"Kelly, Myra - A Christmas Present for a Lady" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly Myra)

plainly a hero, and is heard remarking to less favored admirers that "Teacher's
hair is awful softy and smells off of perfumery."
Here a big boy, a very big boy, enters hastily. He does not belong to Room 18,
but he has long known Teacher. He has brought her a present; he wishes her a
merry Christmas. The present, when produced, proves to be a pretty gold cup, and
Eva Gonorowsky, with renewed emotion, recognizes the boy as her assailant and
the cup as her property. Teacher is dreadfully embarrassed; the boy not at all
so. His policy is simple and entire denial, and in this he perseveres, even
after Eva's saucer has unmistakably proclaimed its relationship to the cup.
Meanwhile the rush of presentation goes steadily on. Other cups and saucers come
in wild profusion. The desk is covered with them, and their wrappings of purple
tissue paper require a monitor's whole attention. The soap, too, becomes
urgently perceptible. It is of all sizes, shapes, and colors, but of uniform and
dreadful power of perfume. Teacher's eyes fill with tears of gratitude as each
new piece, or box, is pressed against her nose, and Teacher's mind is full of
wonder as to what she can ever do with all of it. Bottles of perfume vie with
one another and with the all-pervading soap until the air is heavy and breathing
grows laborious, while pride swells the hearts of the assembled multitude. No
other teacher has so many helps to the toilet. None other is so beloved.
Teacher's aspect is quite changed, and the "blue long down like a lady dress" is
almost hidden by the offerings she has received. Jacob's comb has two massive
and bejeweled rivals in the "softy hair." The front of the dress, where aching
or despondent heads are wont to rest, is glittering with campaign buttons of
American celebrities, beginning with James G. Blaine and extending into modern
history as far as Patrick Divver, Admiral Dewey, and Captain Dreyfus. Outside
the blue belt is a white one, nearly clean; and bearing in "sure 'nough golden
words" the curt, but stirring, invitation, "Remember the Maine." Around the neck
are three chaplets of beads, wrought by chubby fingers and embodying much love,
while the waist-line is further adorned by tiny and' beribboned aprons. Truly,
it is a day of triumph.
When the waste-paper basket has been twice filled with wrappings and twice
emptied; when order is emerging out of chaos; when the Christmas tree has been
disclosed and its treasures distributed, a timid hand is laid on Teacher's knee
and a plaintive voice whispers, "Say, Teacher, I got something for you"; and
Teacher turns quickly to see Morris, her dearest boy charge, with his poor
little body showing quite plainly between his shirtwaist buttons and through the
gashes he calls pockets. This is his ordinary costume, and the funds of the
house of Mogilewsky are evidently unequal to an outer layer of finery.
"Now, Morris, dear," says Teacher, "you shouldn't have troubled to get me a
present; you know you and I are such good friends thatЧ"
"Teacher, yis, ma'am," Morris interrupts, in a bewitching rising inflection of
his soft and plaintive voice; "I know you got a kind feeling by me, and I
couldn't to tell even how I'm got a kind feeling by you. Only it's about that
kind feeling I should give you a present. I didn't"Ч with a glance at the
crowded desk "I didn't to have no soap nor no perfumery, and my mama; she
couldn't to buy none by the store; but, Teacher, I'm got something awful nice
for you by present."
"And what is it, deary?" asks the already rich and gifted young person. "What is
my new present?"
"Teacher, it's like this: I don't know; I ain't so big; like I could to know"Ч