Earthly Astonishments Read Free Page A

would remain as summer boarders.
    Many parents arrived by horse cab, while some families, like Charlotte’s and Emmy’s, had splendid carriages of their own.
    The Academy choir lined the walk, wearing their new summer boaters and singing, “Onward Christian Soldiers.”
    Josephine spied through the cellar door onto the street, watching the ladies arrive in skirted coats, with gentlemen in silk top hats. They all paused to smile at the chorus of girls before entering the school and being directed toward the dining room.
    Josephine wondered briefly where her own parents were today. Certainly not dressed in Sunday clothes, stepping lightly out of horse cabs. Not visiting their only daughter, bearing gifts of books and peppermints. Not thinking about her at all.
    “Hey! Worm!” Sylvester yanked her from the doorway. “Time to serve the high and mighty!”
    The kitchen had produced delicacies rarely tasted at MacLaren Academy. The traditional Parents’ Day luncheonwas a roasted lamb with parslied potatoes and pitchers of gravy and whole gardens-full of green beans. Josephine wondered if the parents were hearing complaints of the usual fare or whether they believed their own bellies.
    As luncheon was cleared away, parents were invited into the classrooms to inspect examples of their daughters’ work. Miss MacLaren hovered at the bottom of the stairway, directing traffic with a beaming countenance.
    “Lovely to see you, Mrs. Hicks! I’m sure you’ll find that Felicia’s penmanship has improved this term.
    “Mr. St. James! It’s an honor to have you with us today. A busy man like you!
    “Mrs. Montgomery, I hope you’ll take a moment to go over the Academy Betterment Fund with me. I know you pride yourself on being a generous contributor.”
    The afternoon program included Miss MacLaren’s speech on the importance of discipline in education, as well as a recitation by the lower school of the poem “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Then Josephine could hear the steady intonation of times tables while she laid out the tea things in the visitors’ parlor. She liked this room best in the whole school. It was dim and cozy, and even in summer, there was a fire in the grate, crackling a welcome to company.
    The hammering of footsteps on the stairs warned Josephine to hide. Usually the thought of spectators would send her scooting down the hall to seek cover inthe kitchen. But today curiosity burned fiercely. She decided not to scurry away. She would stay and watch the families.
    The door flew open to admit a breathless, thirsty throng. Josephine stood on tiptoes, trying not to rattle the cups as she reached up to place them in gilt-trimmed saucers. No one paid her a moment’s attention as they helped themselves to the bounty of cakes.
    Miss MacLaren had reminded the girls that this was an opportunity to demonstrate their company manners. The girls, who liked best to scoff and sulk, were curtseying and simpering like society ladies.
    Emmy’s mother smoothed her daughter’s hair. Felicia was fussing about her new gloves being too small. Josephine listened to parts of several conversations.
    “Oh, Daddy, do you really mean it? May I ask a friend?” Nancy glanced around quickly. “Anne? Do you want to come with us to Mr. Barnum’s two-ring circus on Saturday next?”
    Anne clapped in delight, and the two girls retreated to the corner to whisper.
    Emmy leaned against her father’s shoulder. “I’m happy you came, Papa.”
    He patted her awkwardly.
    “Have you heard anything from Margaret?” she asked.
    Emmy’s father, balancing his top hat on his knee, looked out the window and shook his head.
    “We don’t discuss Margaret, Emmeline. Unless youwish to break your mother’s heart. Tell us about your studies. How is the French grammar this term?”
    “Oh!” cried Emmy suddenly, jumping up. “I’m meant to be passing biscuits!” She seized a plate of gingersnaps from the table and