DADDY-LONG-LEGS

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster

JEAN WEBSTER

DADDY-LONG-LEGS

Copyright © 1912 by The Century Company

TO YOU

‘BLUE WEDNESDAY’

The first Wednesday in every month was a Perfectly Awful Day – a day to be awaited with dread, endured with courage and forgotten with haste. Every floor must be spotless, every chair dustless, and every bed without a wrinkle. Ninety-seven little orphans must be scrubbed and combed and buttoned into freshly starched ginghams;* and all ninety-seven reminded of their manners, and told to say, `Yes, sir,' `No, sir,' whenever a Trustee spoke.

It was a distressing time; and poor Jerusha Abbott, being the oldest orphan, had to bear the brunt of it. But this particular first Wednesday, like its predecessors, finally dragged itself to a close. Jerusha escaped from the pantry where she had been making sandwiches for the asylum's guests, and turned upstairs to accomplish her regular work. Her special care was room F, where eleven little tots, from four to seven, occupied eleven little cots set in a row. Jerusha assembled her charges, straightened their rumpled frocks, wiped their noses, and started them in an orderly and willing line towards the dining-room to engage themselves for a blessed half hour with bread and milk and prune pudding. Then she dropped down on the window seat and leaned throbbing temples against the cool glass. She had been on her feet since five that morning, doing everybody's bidding, scolded and hurried by a nervous matron, Mrs. Lippett.

The day was ended – quite successfully, so far as she knew. The Trustees and the visiting committee had made their rounds, and read their reports, and drunk their tea, and now were hurrying home to their own cheerful firesides, to forget their bothersome little charges for another month. Jerusha leaned forward watching with curiosity – and a touch of wistfulness – the stream of carriages and automobiles that rolled out of the asylum gates. In imagination she followed first one equipage, then another, to the big houses dotted along the hillside.

Jerusha had an imagination – an imagination, Mrs. Lippett told her, that would get her into trouble if she didn't take care – but keen as it was, it could not carry her beyond the front porch of the houses she would enter. Poor, eager, adventurous little Jerusha, in all her seventeen years, had never stepped inside an ordinary house; she could not picture the daily routine of those other human beings who carried on their lives undiscommoded by orphans.

Je-ru-sha Ab-bott

You are wan-ted

In the of-fice,

And I think you'd

Better hurry up!

Tommy Dillon, who had joined the choir, came singing up the stairs and down the corridor, his chant growing louder as he approached room F. Jerusha wrenched herself from the window and refaced the troubles of life.

`Who wants me?' she cut into Tommy's chant with a note of sharp anxiety.

Mrs. Lippett in the office,

And I think she's mad.

Ah-a-men!

Tommy piously intoned, but his accent was not entirely malicious. Even the most hardened little orphan felt sympathy for an erring sister who was summoned to the office to face an annoyed matron; and Tommy liked Jerusha even if she did sometimes jerk him by the arm and nearly scrub his nose off.

Jerusha went without comment, but with two parallel lines on her brow. What could have gone wrong, she wondered. Were the sandwiches not thin enough? Were there shells in the nut cakes? Had a lady visitor seen the hole in Susie Hawthorn's stocking?

The long lower hall had not been lighted, and as she came downstairs, a last Trustee stood, on the point of departure, in the open door that led to the porte-cochère. Jerusha caught only a slight impression of the man – and the impression consisted entirely of tallness. He was waving his arm towards an automobile waiting in the curved drive. As it sprang into motion and approached, head on for an instant, the glaring headlights threw his shadow sharply against the wall inside. The shadow pictured grotesquely elongated legs and arms that ran along the floor and up the wall of the corridor. It looked, for all the world, like a huge, wavering daddy-long-legs.*

Jerusha's anxious frown gave place to quick laughter. She was by nature a sunny soul, and had always snatched the tiniest excuse to be amused. She advanced to the office quite cheered by the tiny episode, and presented a smiling face to Mrs. Lippett. To her surprise the matron was also, if not exactly smiling, at least appreciably friendly; she wore an expression almost as pleasant as the one she donned for visitors.

`Sit down, Jerusha, I have something to say to you.'

Jerusha dropped into the nearest chair and waited with a touch of breathlessness. An automobile flashed past the window; Mrs. Lippett glanced after it.

`Did you notice the gentleman who has just gone?'

`I saw his back.'

`He is one of our most affluential Trustees, and has given large sums of money towards the asylum's support. I am not at liberty to mention his name; he insisted on remaining unknown.'

Jerusha's eyes widened slightly; she was not accustomed to being summoned to the office to discuss the eccentricities of Trustees with the matron.

`This gentleman has taken an interest in several of our boys. You remember Charles Benton and Henry Freize? They were both sent through college by Mr. – er – this Trustee, and both have repaid with hard work and success the money that was so generously spent. Other payment the gentleman does not wish. I have never been able to interest him in the slightest degreein any of the girls in the institution, no matter how deserving. He does not, I may tell you, care for girls.'

`No, ma'am,' Jerusha murmured, since some reply seemed to be expected at this point.

`To-day at the regular meeting, the question of your future was brought up.'

`Usually, as you know, the children are not kept after they are sixteen, but an exception was made in your case. You had finished our school at fourteen, and having done so well in your studies – not always, I must say, in your conduct – it was decided to let you go on in the village high school.** Now you are finishing that, and of course the asylum cannot be responsible any longer for your support. As it is, you have had two years more than most.' Mrs. Lippett overlooked the fact that Jerusha had worked hard for her board during those two years, that the convenience of the asylum had come first and her education second;that on days like the present she was kept at home to scrub. `As I say, the question of your future was brought up and your record was discussed – thoroughly discussed.'

`Of course the usual disposition of one in your place would be to put you in a position where you could begin to work, but you have done well in school in certain branches; it seems that your work in English has even been brilliant. Miss Pritchard, who is on our visiting committee, is also on the school board;* she made a speech in your favour. She also read aloud an essay that you had written entitled, "Blue Wednesday".'

Jerusha's guilty expression this time was not assumed.

`It seemed to me that you showed little gratitude in holding up to ridicule the institution that has done so much for you. Had you not managed to be funny I doubt if you would have been forgiven. But fortunately for you, Mr. –, that is, the gentleman who has just gone – appears to have a good sense of humour. On the strength of that impertinent paper, he has offered to send you to college.'

`To college?' Jerusha's eyes grew big. Mrs. Lippett nodded.

`He waited to discuss the terms with me. They are unusual. The gentleman, I may say, is wrong. He believes that you have originality, and he is planning to educate you to become a writer.'

`A writer?' Jerusha's mind was numbed. She could only repeat Mrs. Lippett's words.

`That is his wish. Whether anything will come of it, the future will show. He is giving you a very liberal allowance, almost, for a girl who has never had any experience in taking care of money, too generous. But he planned the matter in detail, and I did not feel free to make any suggestions. Your board and tuition will be paid directly to the college, and you will receive in addition during the four years you are there, an allowance of thirty-five dollars a month. This will enable you to enter on the same standing as the other students. The money will be sent to you by the gentleman's private secretary once a month, and in return, you will write a letter of acknowledgment once a month. That is – you are not to thank him for the money; he doesn't care to have that mentioned, but you are to write a letter telling of the progress in your studies and the details of your daily life. Just such a letter as you would write to your parents if they were living.

`These letters will be addressed to Mr. John Smith and will be sent in care of the secretary. The gentleman's name is not John Smith, but he prefers to remain unknown. To you he will never be anything but John Smith. His reason in requiring the letters is that he thinks nothing helps better to become a writer than letter-writing. Since you have no family with whom to correspond, he desires you to write in this way; also, he wishes to be informed of your progress. He will never answer your letters, nor in the slightest particular take any notice of them. He detests letter-writing and does not wish you to become a burden. If any point should ever arise where an answer would seem to be necessary – such as in the event of your being expelled, which I trust will not occur – you may correspond with Mr. Griggs, his secretary. These monthly letters are absolutely obligatory on your part; they are the only payment that Mr. Smith requires, so you must be as accurate in sending them as though it were a bill that you were paying. I hope that they will always be respectful in tone and will reflect credit on your training. You must remember that you are writing to a Trustee of the John Grier Home.'

Jerusha's eyes longingly looked for the door. Her head was in a whirl of excitement, and she wished only to escape from Mrs. Lippett's dull remarks and think. She rose and took a step backwards. Mrs. Lippett stopped her with a gesture.

`Not many girls in your position ever have such an opportunity to rise in the world. You must always remember –'

`I – yes, ma'am, thank you. I think, if that's all, I must go and sew a patch on Freddie Perkins's trousers.'

The door closed behind her, and Mrs. Lippett watched it with dropped jaw, her last words in mid-air.

Task 1 (“Blue Wednesday”)

1. Read the text and find in it the words and word combinations from this list, supply them with Russian equivalents.

Word List 1

to feel sympathy for smb (smth)

to catch a slight impression of smb

to wear an expression

to bring up a question

to make an exception

to overlook smth

to make a speech in smb’s favour

to ridicule smb (smth)

to have a good sense of humour

to give smb a liberal allowance

to pay smb’s board & tuition

to take notice of smb

obligatory

2. Remember the context in which they were used.

3. Answer the following questions:

1) What can you say about the first Wednesday in every month at John Grier Home? Why did the author call it a Perfectly Awful Day?

2) Who was the oldest orphan at John Grier Home? How old was she?

3) What were Jerusha’s duties at the asylum and what was her special care?

4) Why was she kept at the asylum that long?

5) What can you say about Jerusha’s imagination? Why did Mrs Lippett tell her that her imagination would get her into trouble?

6) Who did Jerusha see in the long lower hall that had not been lighted? Why did the man remind her of a huge wavering Daddy-Long-Legs?

7) What did Mrs Lippett inform Jerusha of in her office? Was the information pleasant or unpleasant?

8) On what terms did the Trustee offer to send Jerusha to college?

9) What kind of institution was the John Grier Home in your opinion?

10) What was Jerusha’s reaction when she heard Mrs Lippett’s words?

11) What do you think of Jerusha?

12) What is your opinion of Mrs Lippett? Do you think Mrs Lippett liked the idea of Jerusha’s going away from the asylum?

4. Find sentences in the text to prove that:

– Jerusha’s life at the John Grier Home was not easy;

– Jerusha had an unusual imagination;

– Jerusha was by nature a sunny soul;

– the Trustee who offered to send Jerusha to college was an unusual man;

– Mrs Lippett neither liked Jerusha nor sympathized with her.

5. Someone who feels blue feels sad and depressed. This is an expression that is used in informal mainly American English (old-fashioned use). Why do you think the author calls the introduction to the book ‘Blue Wednesday’?

6. Choose the best answer to the question “Why was Judy sent to college?” Use the text to prove it. Because…

– she was very industrious and worked a lot for the asylum;

– she was very talented and had an imagination;

– she was too old to be kept at the asylum;

– Mrs Lippett wanted to get rid of Jerusha;

– one of the Trustees thought that Jerusha’s composition showed a lot of originality and believed her to be a very talented girl.

7. Get ready to speak on the following:

1) Jerusha Abbott and her life at the asylum.

2) Mrs Lippett – the matron of the asylum.

3) John Smith – the Trustee who sent Jerusha to college.

8. Speak about Judy on the part of:

– Mrs Lippett;

– Tommy Dillon;

– the Trustee who sent her to college.

9. Think of what could happen to Jerusha in future and remember what you’ve said to compare it with the author’s version at the final discussion.