The Sweet Far Thing (Page 172)
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185
- Page 186
- Page 187
- Page 188
- Page 189
- Page 190
- Page 191
- Page 192
- Page 193
- Page 194
- Page 195
- Page 196
- Page 197
- Page 198
- Page 199
- Page 200
- Page 201
- Page 202
- Page 203
- Page 204
- Page 205
- Page 206
- Page 207
- Page 208
- Page 209
- Page 210
- Page 211
- Page 212
- Page 213
- Page 214
- Page 215
- Page 216
- Page 217
- Page 218
- Page 219
- Page 220
- Page 221
- Page 222
- Page 223
- Page 224
- Page 225
- Page 226
- Page 227
- Page 228
- Page 229
- Page 230
- Page 231
- Page 232
- Page 233
- Page 234
- Page 235
- Page 236
- Page 237
- Page 238
- Page 239
- Page 240
- Page 241
- Page 242
- Page 243
- Page 244
- Page 245
- Page 246
- Page 247
- Page 248
- Page 249
- Page 250
- Page 251
- Page 252
- Page 253
- Page 254
- Page 255
- Page 256
- Page 257
Mrs. Nightwing enters, clapping her hands. “Ladies, let our rehearsal commence.”
The other teachers corral the younger girls, separating the tigers from the fairies. They have them sit on the floor whilst Mrs. Nightwing oversees our performances with the charm and largesse of a prison warden: “Miss Eaton, are you playing the piano or murdering it?” “Ladies, your curtsies must be as snowflakes falling to earth. Softly, softly! Miss Fensmore, that is not a snowflake but an avalanche.” “Miss Whitford, sing out, if you please. The floor may hear your song quite well, but it is only the floor and cannot applaud it.”
When Mrs. Nightwing calls me to recite my poem, my stomach churns. I do not relish standing before them all, being the center of attention. I shall never remember the words. The girls look at me with expectation, with boredom, with pity. Mrs. Nightwing clears her throat, and it is like a gun firing the start of a race. I am off and running.
“‘Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World—’”
Mrs. Nightwing interrupts me. “Gracious, Miss Doyle! Is this the derby or the recitation of a poem?” Tittering trickles through the girls. Some of the little tigers giggle behind their hands.
I start again, trying my best to temper my voice and rhythm, though my heart thumps with such force I can draw only the shallowest of breaths. “‘Turn if you may from battles never done, / I call, as they go by me one by one. / Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace, / For him who hears love sing and never cease.’”
The word love has the younger girls giggling again, and I have to wait while Miss McCleethy upbraids them for their rudeness and threatens not to allow them cake if they do not behave. Mrs. Nightwing nods for me to continue.
“‘Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! / You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled / Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring / The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing….” I swallow once, twice. They look at me with such expectation, and I feel that no matter what I do, I shall disappoint. “Um…‘Beauty grown, beauty grown sad…’” My eyes are itchy with tears I want to shed for no reason that I can name.
“Miss Doyle?” Mrs. Nightwing calls. “Do you intend to add a dramatic pause? Or have you gone into a catatonic state?”
“N-no. I only forgot my place,” I murmur. Don’t cry, Gemma. For heaven’s sake, not here. “‘Beauty grown sad with its eternity / Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea. / Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait, / For God has bid them share an equal fate; / And when at last, defeated in His wars, / They have gone down under the same white stars, / We shall no longer hear the little cry / Of our sad hearts, that may not live or die.’”
There is halfhearted applause as I leave my spot. Head raised, Mrs. Nightwing glares at me through the bottom of her spectacles. “That wants work, Miss Doyle. I had rather hoped for more.”
“Yes, Mrs. Nightwing,” I say, and the tears threaten again, for underneath it all, I should like to please her, if it’s possible.
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Nightwing says, softening. “Do practice, will you? Miss Temple, Miss Hawthorne, and Miss Poole, I believe we are ready for your ballet.”
“You shall be proud of us, indeed, Mrs. Nightwing,” Cecily trills. “For we have rehearsed ever so much.”
“I am relieved to hear it,” our headmistress replies.
Blasted Cecily. Always so very superior. Does she ever have bloodstained dreams? Does her sort ever worry about anything at all? Living in her precious cocoon where no trouble may intrude.
Cecily floats across the floor with absolute grace. Her arms arch over her head as if they would shield her from all harm. I cannot help it: I hate her smugness and sureness. I wish I could have what she does, and now I hate myself for that.
Before I can stop it, the magic roars through me. And before I can call it back Cecily slips out of her graceful pirouette. She falls hard, her ankle twisting painfully underneath her as she hits the floor with a loud bang.
Everyone gasps. Cecily’s hands fly to her bleeding mouth and her swelling ankle as if she cannot decide which hurts more. She bursts into tears.
“Good heavens!” Mrs. Nightwing exclaims. Every girl scurries to her side save for me. I stand watching, the magic still weighting my limbs. A tea towel is offered for Cecily’s lip. She sobs while Mrs. Nightwing offers cold comfort by telling her she shouldn’t make such a fuss.
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185
- Page 186
- Page 187
- Page 188
- Page 189
- Page 190
- Page 191
- Page 192
- Page 193
- Page 194
- Page 195
- Page 196
- Page 197
- Page 198
- Page 199
- Page 200
- Page 201
- Page 202
- Page 203
- Page 204
- Page 205
- Page 206
- Page 207
- Page 208
- Page 209
- Page 210
- Page 211
- Page 212
- Page 213
- Page 214
- Page 215
- Page 216
- Page 217
- Page 218
- Page 219
- Page 220
- Page 221
- Page 222
- Page 223
- Page 224
- Page 225
- Page 226
- Page 227
- Page 228
- Page 229
- Page 230
- Page 231
- Page 232
- Page 233
- Page 234
- Page 235
- Page 236
- Page 237
- Page 238
- Page 239
- Page 240
- Page 241
- Page 242
- Page 243
- Page 244
- Page 245
- Page 246
- Page 247
- Page 248
- Page 249
- Page 250
- Page 251
- Page 252
- Page 253
- Page 254
- Page 255
- Page 256
- Page 257