“I should like to make a complaint about Fred White,” he said. “He’s always borrowing my things and never giving them back.” “That’s telling a tale, not making a proper complaint,” said William at once, “Go to your monitor to decide silly little things of that sort. Who is your monitor?” “I am,” said a boy called Thomas.
“Well, please explain carefully the difference between telling tales and making a genuine complaint,” said William, “We only decide serious things at this Meeting.” “Any more complaints?” asked Rita, A boy called William Peace got up. He was in the form below Elizabeth, a serious-faced boy, “I have a small complaint to make,” he said. “I learn the violin and I see that my practice-times have been altered to the times when my form goes for a Nature ramble, I belong to the Nature Society, and I hate to miss the rambles. May the time of one of them be altered?” “It would be quite easy,” said William. “Discuss it with Mr. Lewis, the music-master, and see if there is anyone who can change practice-times with you.” “Thank you,” said the boy, and sat down. There were no more complaints. Kathleen did not get up and say anything at all, though the others in her form were almost sure that she would complain about Jenny. They did not know that the girl was going to punish Jenny in her own way.
“The Meeting is dismissed,” said William, and the School filed out, chattering as soon as the children got to their various common-rooms, Elizabeth went to John.
“It’s good that we can have the money for the crocuses, Isn’t it?” she said, with her eyes shining. “We’ll go down to the town to-morrow, John, and see how much they are. I’m longing to plant them, aren’t you? October is the right month, They will look so lovely in the spring-time.” “Elizabeth, I wish you knew how much nicer you look when you are all happy and smiling like that,” said John. “It is so horrid when you frown and sulk.” “You’re always lecturing me, John!” said Elizabeth. But she was glad all the same that John was pleased with her. Alas! He was not going to be pleased with her for long! KATHLEEN PLAYS SOME TRICKS.
KATHLEEN did not change her mind about paying back Elizabeth and Jenny. She began to play all kinds of mean little tricks on them, and she played them so cleverly that they did not guess she had done them, She slipped into the classroom after tea when there was no one there, and went to Jenny’s desk, She knew that Jenny had written out her French home-work very carefully indeed, and she had seen her put the book back into her desk.
Kathleen took out the book and opened it at the place where the work had been done. She dipped a pen in the ink-and then she made three large blots on the page by shaking the pen hard! She looked at it. The page was dreadful. Jenny would get into trouble, no doubt about that! She waited until the blots were dry and then shut the book. She slipped it into the desk and ran back to the common-room, She saw Jenny there and gave her a sly look. Ah, wait, Jenny! You’ll have a shock tomorrow, thought Kathleen.
Elizabeth was in the room too, putting one of her favourite gramophone records on. Kathleen wondered what she could do to her. She sat and thought for a while, then quietly got up. She slipped out of the room and put on her coat. It was dark outside, and she went out of the garden door into the school grounds.
She went to where Elizabeth kept her spade, fork, and trowels. John always insisted that every tool used should be cleaned till it was bright and shining, before it was put away. Elizabeth was always particular ~about this, for she knew that well-kept tools did good work, Kathleen took down the garden tools, She carried them outside, and went to a place where she knew that the earth was damp and muddy. She dug the tools into the wet soil and made them very dirty indeed, Then she carried them back to the shed and put them into a corner. She shone her torch on to them. They were brown with mud, John would be furious when he found them-and as they were the ones that Elizabeth always used, he would be sure to think that she had been careless.
“Well, I’ll soon teach Jenny and Elizabeth that it doesn’t pay to be horrid to me!” thought Kathleen to herself, as she went back to take off her coat. “They deserve to be punished! They’ve been mean to me. Now I’m being mean back to them. Serves them right!” She went back to the common-room. She couldn’t help feeling rather victorious somehow, and she longed for the next day to come, so that she might see her two enemies getting into trouble, The first one to get into trouble was poor Jenny. Mam’zelle asked Kenneth to collect the French books and Jenny gave hers up without even opening it. Mam’zelle set the class some translation to do, and then opened the French exercise-books to correct them.
When she came to Jenny’s, and saw the three enormous blots across the page, blotting out some of the sentences, she threw up her hands in horror.
“What is this?” she cried. “Whose book is this?” She iooked quickly at the name, and gazed across at Jenny in astonishment, “Jennifer Harris! How can you give in work like this! It is shocking!” Jenny looked up in surprise. What could be the matter with her work? She had done it quite carefully. “Why, Mam’zelle!” she said. “Is there something wrong?” “Jenny, my child, you do not belong to the kindergarten!” cried Mam’zelle, holding up the book for Jenny to see. “Look at this page! Is it not disgraceful? You know that you should have written out all this work again- work from this form cannot be given in covered with blots. I am truly ashamed of you!” Jenny stared in the greatest surprise at her book. She knew quite well she hadn’t made any blots at all. It couldn’t be her book! “That’s not my book, Mam’zelle,” she said, “It can’t be. I didn’t make any blots at all. I would never give in work like that.” “Jenny, I am not blind as a bat!” cried Mam’zelle, beginning to get excited, “I read your name here, see- Jennifer Harris, It is most certainly your book. And if you did not make those blots, how did they come? Blots do not make themselves, as you very well know.” “I simply can’t imagine how they came,” said poor Jenny really puzzled now, “Honestly I can’t, Mam’zelle, I’m most awfully sorry. I’ll do the work again.” “And you will be more careful in future,” said Mam’zelle, calming down. Jenny was upset and puzzled. She supposed that in some way she must have made the blots without noticing them, just as she shut the book. She did not see Kathleen looking at her with a spiteful gleam in her eyes. Kathleen was delighted at the success of her trick. She would play a few more on Jenny very soon! There was half an hour that afternoon for any child to go for a walk, practise lacrosse, or do gardening. Elizabeth chose to go to the garden. There was one little piece she hadn’t quite been able to finish digging the day before. She could just finish it in the time, So off she skipped, and called out to John who was already digging hard. But John did not look at all pleased with her.
“Elizabeth, you did do some digging and forking yesterday, didn’t you?” he called, “Rather!” said Elizabeth, stopping beside him “I used nearly all my tools, I was so busy. What’s the matter, John? You look cross.” “I am cross,” said John. “Go and get your tools and you’ll see why.” Elizabeth couldn’t think what he meant. She rushed off to the shed-and stopped in surprise and dismay when she saw her tools. They were all muddy and dirty! Not one of them shone bright and silvery. What a very extraordinary thing! She went outside, carrying them with her. “John!” she said. “I’m quite sure I cleaned them as usual yesterday when I put them away.” “You can’t have,” said John in a cold sort of voice. “Tools don’t get dirty at night by themselves, Elizabeth. Have some sense.” “I’ve got plenty!” cried Elizabeth. “And my sense tells me that if I did clean them, which I know I did, it’s not my fault that they’re dirty now.” “Well, don’t let’s argue about it,” said John, “I’d have thought a lot more of you, Elizabeth, if you’d owned up, and said you’d forgotten just for once. It’s not like you to say you did a thing, when you didn’t,” “John!” cried Elizabeth, shocked. “How can you say such a thing about me! I’m never afraid of owning up.