Pepper for the Professor.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 5, 4 August 1906, Page 43

Pepper for the Professor.

Of course you know about the Old Woman who lived in a shoe, who had so many children that she didn’t know’ what to do. But did anyone ever tell ypu why she gave them all broth with out any bread, and whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed? I’ll tell you; but don’t please, go and copy them—will you? tyell, first ot all, the Old Wpman kept a boarding-school. That was why she had so many children to look nfter. The School was in the Shoe, which

was generally a hundred million times bigger than due of your shoes, and had rooms and doors anti windows, though, as it was a magic Shoe, the Old Woman coidd change it to any size ami shape she diked. I dare say you’ve seen pictures of her and her children sitting together in it, as if it were a big Bathchair. (Don’t you wish you could change your house into a eoaeh-aml-four or motor-car whenever you wanted a drive?) Now, the Shoe children weren't any fonder Of lessens than yon are. though, of course, some schooldays seemed nicer than others. But the nastiest day of the whole year was the one on which Professor Smackemwell —he was the Old Woman’s brother-—came to give them an examination on everything they’d learnt during the year. He was always as cross as two sticks when he gave lessons, and so fond of putting children in the corner that, by the. end of the day, although the Shoe was a very eornery place, there really weren’t enough to go round; ami they would all be standing in rows against the wall. That, year things were worse than ever, because they’d begun French; and, if you don’t know how it feels when somebody glares at you over big glasses, and says: "‘First person plural, preterite tense of etre—quick!” and you can’t for the life of you remember, well, I hope you never will! . . “How I wish that old Smavkemw ell wasn't coming to-morrow!” said Wilfred Wilkins. ‘‘He's a hundred times worse than Mother Birch! Let’s have a lark and pay him off for bothering us!” “How?” eried a number of voices. (There were so many children in the schoolroom that I can’t remember all their names, so I shall just tell you the principal ones who were speaking.) “Put some tar on his ruler! He's always waving it about!” suggested Wilfred. “Or sprinkle pop, cr on his desk to make him sneeze!” eried Jerry Jacobs. “Or chalk something on his baek!” giggled Esther Eccles. “Or stitch up his coatsleeves b< forb be goes!” said Lena Little. , They really were naughty children, weren’t, they! Mary .Mayflower, another little girl, who had been thinking hard ever sine# Jerry had mentioned pepper, suddenly sa id: “I’ve a much better plan! You know Mrs Birch always sends him in a cup of broth at eleven?” “Yes; ami he fus:.?s his-head off for fear she should have forgotten and put ]>epper in it! He hates pepper!” said Wilfred. “That’s it!” cried Mary excitedly. “I thought what fun it would be if we eould put some in!” . . , “Oh-h-h!” gasped the. children. , It really was a very daring idea. You see, between yon ami me. Professor Smackemwell was rather greedy. And they knew he wouldn't suspect them if his broth was spoilt; and they thought it would be al! the greater fun if he flew into a temper and scolded Mrs Birch before she’ll bail time to say that she’d had nothing to do with it! So they planned, then and there, that-, during the ten-minutes’ playtime that they had at eleven, some of them should get her mil. of the way, while three nt hers slipped into the kitchen and peppered the Professor’s cup of soup, which was sure to be waiting there. (Whew! Don't you wonder what’s coming?) Now well go on to the next morning; and I'll tell you what Professor Smackemwell was like. Very tall ami very thin, with a pointed nose and a pointed chill dear me, I didn't mean to be writing in verse! — and white hair, (hat stood straight up round his head. And he wore a black coat, with long tails, and always carried a long ruler as if he were going to hit somebody, and talked in a high, squeaky voice. This particular morning his head was crammed with nasty irregular French verbs; and he kept pointing down the, class- "Quick, quick, quick!”—and giving the children no time to think; till, by ten minutes Io eleven, all the corners and two sides of the schoolroom were used up! Weren't, they glad when a bell rang, which meant that they might all go into the playground for ten minutes! Only, as you can guess, they didn't all go into tlje playground. Ethel Eeelcs slipped down to the kitchen and.

knotted at the door, and asked Mrs Birth, who waa cooking instead of teaching that morning, if she would please go upstairs and speak to Protestor SmaokemwcU. And no sooner had Mrs Birch bustled out of the kitchen than Mary Mayflower and Wilfred Wilkins crept in; and they all began hunting hard tor the cup of broth and the pepper pot. "Here’s his tray all ready; but the cup’s empty!” cried Maty. “She hasn't ponied the broth out yet.” ‘•lt's here, in this big saucepan on the tire. Smells awfully good!” said Ethel. “We’ll have to put the pepper in the pan, ’cause if we ladle any broth into the cup, she’ll guess!” ‘•1 can't lind the pepper-pot; but there’s a whole tin of pepper hereijj said Wilfred, who had climbed on to the dresser. “Suppose we— Achishoo! aehishoo!” He had taken the lid off the tin and sniffed, and of course it made him eueeze like anything. “For goodness’ sake be quick, or Mrs Birch'll be Track'” said Ethel. "Where’s the tin? Better put in a good dose, or he’ll never taste it in that big pan!” She seized the tin from Wilfred, who was still “chishchisliooing.” Next minute the tin was empty, and she was stirring the broth round with a wooden ladle. “There!” she said. “That’ll pay him out for putting me in the corner! Hurry up! 1 believe that was the bell!” Didn't they scuttle upstairs again! When Professor Smaekeniwell came back to the schoolroom, they were all Sitting demurely in their places. And they never even smiled when Mrs Birch tapped at the door a minute, later, and said: “Your broth, Horatius.” “I trust, my dear,” said the Professor, “that you have remembered that I don’t like pepper?” "Of course I’ve remembered!” snapped Mrs Birch, setting down the tray. And Professor Smackemwell said: “Boys write out the conditional of “etre,” and girls the subjunctive of “avoir," and took up his teacup and drained it at one gulp! Oh. my dear chicks! He coughed, he Spluttered, he stormed, he fumed. And Mrs Birch rushed in again, and began patting him hard on the back. And he gasped out: “How dare you?” because, of course, h? thought she’d, peppered his broth. And, when ho went on panting “Pepper, pepper, pepper!” she began to understand, and declared that there hadn't been any. “Should—l be—going on—like this—if there —hadn’t?” stormed the Professor. “I’ve burnt my throat—dreadfully, I tell you! Send for the doctor!” “Nonsense!” said Mrs Birch. lint the Professor was in such a temper that she simply had to. And, when the doctor arrived, he said that, though there was nothing really wrong, the Professor had better keep quiet for the rest of the day. Well, the children—who didn’t hear this—sat on in the schoolroom, feeling rather frightened, and expecting every minute that Mrs. Birch would come back and say she’d found them out. But, as time went on and nothing happened, they got rather braver, and began to play "naughts and crosses;” and then “turn the trencher” with Professor Smackemwell's saucer. At last the first bell rang as usual, for dinner. And they went rather nervously into the dining room, and found Mrs Birch standing at the end of a long table before a soup-tureen. "Be quick, children!” she said. “I'm going to have my dinner upstairs with I’rofessor Smackemwell.” She didn’t sound cross, though her eyes gleamed hard from behind her horn spectacles as she ladled out mutton broth into blue plates. But—l wonder if you’ve guessed what’s coming?— no sooner had Wilfred tasted his first spoonful than he put it down very quickly, and took a drink of water. "Can I have some bread, please?” he Baid. Ethel Eccles had suddenly begun to rough. “You don’t any of you need bread to-day. with good soup like this!” said Mrs Birch. Mary Mayflower had turned very red, and put her spoon down. “There's so much pepper! I’ve burnt my tongue!” whimpered Peter Telling, from the end of the table. “Nonsense!” said Mrs Birch. “How can there lie pepper, when I’ve not put any in? I'm afraid you won't get any-

thing else, because, with Professor Smackem well’s not being well, I’ve had no time for cooking. The broth’s just as 1 poured it out of the saucepan. Don’t be fanciful!” Well, Mary, and Ethel and- Wilfred saw at once what had happened. They’d not only peppered the Professor’s broth, but they’d peppered their own at the same time, because the big naacepan had held the soup for their dinner as well! And of course, they knew perfectly well that Mrs Birch had guessed this. And there they sat, getting redder and redder, and trying to get down spoonfuls of the broth, and coughing and choking, because they’d no bread to help them with it. And finally they put down their spoons, and gave it up altogether! And then Mrs Birch just said: **Kow, cinfwyp vbmfgk vbgkqj vbgkq emfwypm as you know perfectly well what I’m going to punish you for, we needn’t waste time with talking about it*” And. as you know perfectly well what happened next (think of the third and fourth lines of the “Old Woman” rhyme!), I needn’t take up your time in describing it. Besides, it’s kinder to the children if I don’t! You can understand that, after no dinner and a long afternoon in bed (they were sent there directly after Well, what we’re not going to talk about!), they felt frightfully hungry for tea. And they were allowed to come down for it, and found Mrs Birch and the Professor in a good temper again, and extra supplies of thin bread-and-butter all round.

But I think they deserved something to remember that examination-day by, don’t you?