"Blyton, Enid - St Clare's 03 - Summer Term at St Clare's" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

Pamela was not very attractive-looking. She wore big glasses, and her straight hair was tightly plaited down her back. She had a very earnest face, and paid the greatest attention to everything Miss Roberts said.
Miss Roberts had some more to say. She flipped at the marks list with her first finger and then looked firmly at Alison, Sadie, Doris and Carlotta.
'You are all bottom,' she said. 'Well, we know some one has to be bottom-but nobody needs to be quite so very low-down as all of you are. Sit up, Sadie!' Carlotta, there is no need to grin round the class like that. It isn't funny to get so few marks in any and every subject!''
Carlotta stopped grinning round and scowled. She looked like a fiery little gypsy with her black curls, deep-brown eyes and creamy-brown skin. Not even her school uniform could make her look ordinary. She glared at Miss Roberts,
Miss Roberts took no notice of the scowl or the glare, but went calmly on. 'Doris, you have been in my form for four terms now, and I'm really tired of seeing you at the bottom still. You will have extra coaching this term, because you really mustn't stay in my form much longer.'
'Yes, Miss Roberts,' murmured poor Doris. The girls glanced at her, trying to cheer her up. Doris was a real dunce and knew it-and yet of all the girls in the school she could be the very funniest, sending the class into squeals of laughter by her imitations of mistresses and other girls. Every one liked her, even the mistresses who laboured so hard trying to teach her.
'Now you, Alison,' began Miss Roberts again, looking at the twins' cousin with the intention of telling her that she also could do better, 'flow you, Alison . . .' Then she stopped and looked at the girl carefully.
'Alison,' she said, 'there is something very strange about you this morning. It seems to me that you have forgotten to do your hair."
'Oh no, Miss Roberts,' began Alison, eagerly. 'Sadie showed me a new way. She said I had the kind of face that...'
Alison, you don't really mean to tell me that your hair is done like that on Purpose!' said Miss Roberts, in pretended horror. Alison subsided at once, and the girls giggled. Alison really did look a little silly with her hair all piled in floppy curls on top of her head. Miss Roberts never could stand what she called 'frippery' in dress or hair style.
'Much as I hate you to lose any part of my lesson, Alison,' she said, 'I must ask you to go and do something to your hair that will make you look a little less amazing.'
'I thought she'd be sent out to do her hair properly,' whispered Janet to Pat. Miss Roberts's sharp ears caught the whisper.
'No talking,' she said. 'We'll now get on with the lesson. Open your maths books at page sixteen. Pat and Isabel, bring your books up to my desk, please, and I will try and explain to you what the class did last week when you were away. The rest of you get on with what you began yesterday.'
In a little while all was silence as the class applied itself to its work. Edison slipped back into the room quietly, her cheeks flaming. Her hair was now taken down and brushed back properly, and she looked what she was, a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl. Sadie sent her a look of sympathy.
Prudence and Pamela bent their heads almost to their desks, so concentrated were they on their task. They sat next to each other. Prudence took a quick look at Pamela's book to see if her own sums showed the same answers. Janet nudged Hilary.
'Our pious little Prudence isn't above having a peep at Pain's work!' she whispered, opening her desk to hide the fact that she was speaking. Hilary nodded. She was about to open her own desk and make a remark, but Miss Roberts's eye caught hers and she decided not to. Miss Roberts didn't seem to be standing any nonsense that term! She meant her class to do well, and to make a good showing when most of it went up into Miss Jenks's form the next term!
Pat and Isabel stood beside Miss Roberts struggling to understand what she was explaining. Their five weeks' holiday had made them rusty, and it was difficult to get back the habit of concentration again. But at last they understood and went back to their places to work. Miss Roberts got up to go round the class.
A suppressed giggle made her look round. Bobby Ellis had balanced a sheet of blotting-paper on the bent head of the unsuspecting Prudence. It sat there, moving slightly whenever Prudence turned her head a little to refer to her text-book. Then it floated gently to the ground, much to Prudence's surprise.
'I imagine that, as you find time to play about with blotting-paper, Roberta, you have also found time to do every one of the sums set,' said Miss Roberts in a cold sort of voice. Bobby said nothing. She hadn't done even half the sums glanced at her, trying to cheer her up. Doris was a real dunce and knew it-and yet of all the girls in the school she could be the very funniest, sending the class into squeals of laughter by her imitations of mistresses and other girls. Every one liked her, even the mistresses who laboured so hard trying to teach her.
'Now you, Alison,' began Miss Roberts again, looking at the twins' cousin with the intention of telling her that she also could do better, 'now you, Alison. ' Then she stopped and looked at the girl carefully.
'Alison,' she said, 'there is something very strange about you this morning. It seems to me that you have forgotten to do your hair."
'Oh no, Miss Roberts,' began Alison, eagerly. 'Sadie showed me a new way. She said I had the kind of face that...'
'Alison, you don't really mean to tell me that your hair is done like that on purpose!' said Miss Roberts, in pretended horror. Alison subsided at once, and the girls giggled. Alison really did look a little silly with her hair all piled in floppy curls on top of her head. Miss Roberts never could stand what she called 'frippery' in dress or hair style.
'Much as I hate you to lose any part of my lesson, Alison,' she said, 'I must ask you to go and do something to your hair that will make you look a little less amazing.'
'I thought she'd be sent out to do her hair properly,' whispered Janet to Pat. Miss Roberts's sharp ears caught the whisper.
'No talking,' she said. 'We'll now get on with the lesson. Open your maths books at page sixteen. Pat and Isabel, bring your books up to my desk, please, and I will try and explain to you what the class did last week when you were away. The rest of you get on with what you began yesterday.'
In a little while all was silence as the class applied itself to its work. Edison slipped back into the room quietly, her cheeks flaming. Her hair was now taken down and brushed back properly, and she looked what she was, a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl. Sadie sent her a look of sympathy.
Prudence and Pamela bent their heads almost to their desks, so concentrated were they on their task. They sat next to each other. Prudence took a quick look at Pamela's book to see if her own sums showed the same answers. Janet nudged Hilary.
'Our pious little Prudence isn't above having a peep at Pam's work!' she whispered, opening her desk to hide the fact that she was speaking. Hilary nodded. She was about to open her own desk and make a remark, but Miss Roberts's eye caught hers and she decided not to. Miss Roberts didn't seem to be standing any nonsense that term! She meant her class to do well, and to make a good showing when most of it went up into Miss Jenks's form the next term!
Pat and Isabel stood beside Miss Roberts struggling to understand what she was explaining. Their five weeks' holiday had made them rusty, and it was difficult to get back the habit of concentration again. But at last they understood and went back to their places to work. Miss Roberts got up to go round the class.
A suppressed giggle made her look round. Bobby Ellis had balanced a sheet of blotting-paper on the bent head of the unsuspecting Prudence. It sat there, moving slightly whenever Prudence turned her head a little to refer to her text-book. Then it floated gently to the ground, much to Prudence's surprise.
'I imagine that, as you find time to play about with blotting-paper, Roberta, you have also found time to do every one of the sums set,' said Miss Roberts in a cold sort of voice. Bobby said nothing. She hadn't done even half the sums.
'Well, if you haven't done all the sums and got them right too, by the time I get round to you, you will stay in at break and do them then,' said Miss Roberts. 'Prudence, pick up the blotting-paper and put it on my desk.'
'Miss Roberts, I didn't know anything about what Bobby was doing,' said Prudence, anxiously. 'I was quite lost in my work. I . . .'
'Quite so, Prudence,' said Miss Roberts. 'Now pick up the blotting-paper please and get lost again.'
Poor Bobby lost her time at break. There was no doubt about it-Miss Roberts was on the war-path that term!
'What did I tell you?' said Janet, when the morning ended at last, and the girls trooped out to wash for lunch.
'What a morning! Alison sent out to do her hair again- most of us scolded-Bobby kept in for break-Janet ticked off for talking twice-Doris pulled up for dreaming in geography-Carlotta sent out of the room for answering back-and double the amount of prep we usually have! Golly, this is going to be a term!'





4 THE FIVE NEW GIRLS

IN a day or two the twins had settled down so well again that no one even remembered they had been late in coming back. They felt that it was a little unfair that the teachers so soon forgot this, for once or twice they were scolded for not knowing things that the rest of the class had been taught during the first week.
But the twins had good brains and soon caught up with the others. They had always loved the summer term at their old school, and they found that it was just as nice at St. Clare's. There was no lacrosse that term, of course, but instead there were tennis and swimming-and they were grand I
There were eight courts at St. Clare's, and Belinda Towers, who had charge of them, drew up a careful timetable so that every girl could have her turn at tennis practice. Miss Wilton, the sports mistress, was an excellent coach, and soon picked out the girls who would do well.
Margery Fenworthy, one of the old first-formers who had gone up into the second form, was brilliant at tennis, as she was at all sports. Miss Wilton was delighted with her.
'She's so strong,' she told Belinda, 'and she has a lovely style. Watch her serve, Belinda. See how she throws the ball up high, and gives it just the right smack when it comes down-and skims it over the top of the net. You know, I shouldn't be surprised if she wins the school championship this term, and beats all you top formers!