Free Jane Slayre by Sherri Browning Erwin Page A

school. Did her body parts fall off? I made a mental note to watch her in case she should be prone to falling asleep without notice.
    A half hour's recreation succeeded, then study; then the glass
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    of water and the piece of oat cake, prayers, and bed. Such was my first day at Lowood.
    CHAPTER 6
    THE NEXT DAY COMMENCED as before, getting up and dressing by rushlight. This morning we couldn't even wash, for the water in the pitchers was frozen. The weather had changed the preceding evening, and a keen northeast wind had whistled through the crevices of our bedroom windows all night long.
    That day I was enrolled as a member of the fourth class, and regular tasks and occupations were assigned me. At last I was no longer a mere spectator at Lowood, but a participant, an active captain in command of my own destiny. At first, as I was little accustomed to learn by heart, the lessons appeared both long and difficult. The frequent change from task to task, too, bewildered me. I was glad when, about three o'clock in the afternoon, Miss Smith put into my hands a border of muslin two yards long, together with needle, thimble, and thread, and sent me to sit in a quiet corner of the schoolroom with directions to hem the same.
    At that hour most of the others were sewing likewise; but one class still stood round Miss Scatcherd's chair reading, and as all was quiet, the subject of their lessons could be heard. It was English history. Amongst the readers I observed my acquaintance of the veranda. At the commencement of the lesson, her place had been at the top of the class, but for some error or inattention to stops, she was suddenly sent to the very bottom. Even in that obscure position, Miss Scatcherd continued to make her an object of constant notice.
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    "Burns," the teacher said. The girls here were all called by their surnames, as boys are elsewhere. "Burns, you are standing on the side of your shoe. Turn your toes out immediately." Followed soon by "Burns, you poke your chin most unpleasantly. Draw it in." And next: "Burns, I insist on your holding your head up. I will not have you before me in that attitude," and on and on.
    A chapter having been read through twice, the books were closed and the girls examined. The lesson had comprised part of the reign of Charles I, and most of the girls appeared unable to answer the sundry questions about tonnage and poundage and ship money. Still, every little difficulty was instantly solved when it reached Burns. Her memory seemed to have retained the substance of the whole lesson, and she was ready with answers on every point.
    I kept expecting that Miss Scatcherd would praise her attention; but, instead of that, she suddenly cried out, "You dirty, disagreeable girl! You have never cleaned your nails this morning!"
    Burns made no answer. Why did she not explain that she could neither clean her nails nor wash her face, as the water was frozen? As far as I was concerned, Miss Scatcherd was almost as bad as a vampyre. I studied her closely in case I could catch a glimpse of razor-sharp canines. Was it an accident that she sat far away from any windows?
    Miss Smith drew my attention by requesting me to hold a skein of thread. While she was winding it, she talked to me from time to time, asking if I had ever been at school before, if I could mark, stitch, and knit. Until she dismissed me, I could not pursue my observations on Miss Scatcherd's movements.
    When I returned to my seat, the lady was just delivering an order of which I did not catch the import. Burns immediately left the class, headed into the small inner room where the books were kept, and returned in half a minute, carrying a bundle of twigs tied together at one end. This ominous tool she presented to Miss Scatcherd with a respectful curtsy. The teacher instantly and sharply inflicted on her neck a dozen strokes with the bunch of twigs. The
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    skin broken, a drop of blood rolled down her neck, but not a tear rose to Burns's eye.