LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1221, 1 February 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

FARMER POMEROY’S LEGACY. London Society. Chatter I. THE GIRLS’ SCHOOLROOM. A long low room, not too light or clean, with a carpetless floor and whitewashed walls : its furniture, one table surrounded by three forms rnd four chairs ; some dark and ink-stained desks, notched, scratched, and chipped in innumerable places : painted lockers round the walls, also much kicked and cut and variously stained; a small clock, and a large slate on wheels standing in a wooden frame: evidently the National schoolroom in one of our larger towns; swarming with girls of all ages under fifteen, and of all sizes, in every phase of disorder and misrule possible under the circumstances. Two of the tallest—pupil teachers from their dress and years - gossiped together at a window overlooking the boys’ playground ; a third—a pale quiet looking girl—was try ing hard to preserve some semblance of work and order among a class of unkempt and insurgent juveniles, the junior class, sorely impeded by the presence of a dark hirsute youth, a pupil teacher from the boys’ school, under the same roof, on a piratical inroad among his female co-mates. Two young women, standing at the door of a little anteroom the pupil teachers’ class room, which led from the outer staircase into this Babel of confusion and tongues —paused, transfixed and totailynnperceived, gazing upon the scene of misrule with horror in their countenances The one was a tall, fair, pretty girl of nineteen or twenty, very handsomely die sed, with a pr. fusion of light-brown hair, knotted in light mass 8 beneatU a piquant hat, from under the shadow of which surprised bbie eyes, lvnta h very arched eyebrows, contemplated with amazement the chaos which met her view. This was the daughter of the clergyman of the parish, known to her friends—and they were legion—as Kate Oslow. The other figure was also that of a young woman, apparently older, perhaps two or three and twenty, clothed in a dark and plain, but perfectly fitting, gown, with no ornament save little white frills at the neck ami wrists. In stature Miss Onslow’s companion w T as small, but of remarkably upright, firmlymoulded, and well-rounded figure, with a small head carried on a very straight and column like neck, and round which was tightly braided, straight, smooth, dark hair. This girl surveyed the Babel before her with deepest dark eyes, which had no astonishment, but much unfeigned indignation, in them. ‘Dear me,’ said Miss Onslow, at last finding voice ‘ I am horrified ! Indeed, Miss Astry, they are worse than usual. Will you try what you can do wdth them ? I seem to do more harm than good whenever I try to keep order. 1 am afraid they don’t respect me properly,’ she added, shaking her pretty head. ‘ It is too bad of young Martin to come in here. The last master and mistress kept no order at all. I am afraid you will find it very difficult. Bub I really think you had better go in alone.’ The new mistress smiled slightly. Leaving Mias Onslow' still unperceived at the doer, she crossed the room quickly and suddenly, with a noiseless step, to the chair placed before the table in the window'. There, drawing a little whistle from her pocket, she blew it once shrilly. Her advent had been unnoticed. An electric start ran through the room at the sound of the blast, and the effect was not lessoned by the sight of the determinedlooking little figure standing perfectly calm and unmoved in the midst of the strife of tongues. Silence fell instantly. ‘First class come to your places round me. Pupil-teachers, take each of you one of the other classes.’ Her voice was singularly clear and penetrating ; her eye commanded immediate attention. Without a word, all. fell into their respective stations; the hirsute pupil-teacher crept crest-fallen from the room. Miss Onslow, nodding her head, went aw'ay still unperceived. At a quarter to twelve aha came again, this time advancing to, the mistress’s table. ‘ What a transformation 11,I 1, she said, looking round the b,nsy classes. ‘ Order evolved out of chaos. Mias Astry, papa desires me to say that he thinks you may give a half holiday, if you have found matters satisfactory, this being your first day with us, you know. Perhaps you will let tho girls go after sieging their hymn, fapa is utwoitu-

nately so great an invalid that he has commissioned me to do anything I can for you in his place Here are the tunes they know —I am afraid very imperfectly, for I am not a good teacher, and o*r late mistress had no voice. *

The new mistress gave out the Evening Hymn : after reading the words distinctly and solemnly she began to sing; theairsha chose was that one often known as Keble. Miss Onslow stood entranced ; her voice was a clear and pure soprano, her manner of singing as correct as it was simple, the tune perfect. For a line or two all the hearers stood silent with surprise; then Miss Onslow, recovering herself, joined in, the girls followed, draggling and stumbling after the fashion of ill-taught school chileren in a countiy parish some fifteen years ago. ‘OMiss Astry,’ cried K*te Onslow, directly the last notes died away, ‘how delightful it is to hear you can sing ! We want a treble so much —some one to lead the singing well in church. It is so dreadful now, the children are so bad. We practise on Wednesday evenings. I play, there being no one to do it better. And now we shall be able to effect some improvement, for I hear the new master of the boys’ school has a capital tenor. How well you do manage them!’ she ran on, watching the mistress marshalling the throng. One after another an orderly and quiet row of si ent girls filed out. ‘ They have been used to tumble out like great boys, hustling and shrieking. They were a great deal too much £• r poor Mrs Cotton, and her husband found just as much difficulty with ihe boys’ school But they had six children, and so papa didn’t like to get them turned out. At last he got Mr Cotton a clerkship in the bank ; and I do hope now the schools will get on.’ ‘I will do my best, Miss Onslow,’ said the new mistress.

CHAPTER IT. CHOIR PRACTICE.

Cliffe, the town in which is situated the National school to which Miss Onslow had just introduced its new mistress, is one of our southern country towns, a place anciently of importance far surpassing its present status. Upon a high mound on a centre knoll rises the castle, built by William the Norman to guard the expanse of swelling sea-bound downs which stretch for miles along the coast. Red-roofed houses rise to the foot of the castle hill; seven churches remain of the fourteen which once were served by the monks of a stately priory, testifying to the depart d glory of the ecclesiastical privileges of Cliffe, and pointing a moral as to the present condition of the Church, for the united incomes of all seven would not suffice to maintain now-adays in comfort the household of one married rector blessed with a large family. But the Reverend Frederick Onslow had some property of his own, and only one child to share it. St. Stephen’s, hisvicarage, was situated under the shadow of the castle hill. It was a square, low-towered, brick building, defaced outwardly with factory windows, and inwardly with whitewash, high pews, and galleries. Into the organ loft the new schoolmistress was guided by Grace Ellis, the pale and quiet pupil teacher, on the first Wednesday evening after her arrival. Eight o'clock had struck, but one b : g boy in a smock frock, evidently the organ blower, who pulled his forelock at sight of the “new guv’ness,” was the only person punctual. Miss Onslow was the next to arrive; then came five or six boys belonging to the National school, the trebles ; then the basses, Martin the pupil teacher, and an old man dressed in rusty black, whom the schoolmistress recognised as the pew-opener. Two others next appeared, the daughter of the pew opener, and one of the National school girls; and much giggling ensued between them and the trebles previously arrived. * We must begin a new order of things tonight, Miss Astry,’ said Kate Onslow, turning to her. ‘ Generally we waste so much time in talking. I believe you have been used to a mixed choir; have you any hints to give us ? ’

‘ I should advise the proper placing of the various voices, and that strict attention to the business of the evening should be preserved.’

She gave a glance as she spoke at Martin, who was already edging his way behind Miss Onslow’s back to where Grace Ellis stood with downcast eyes

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