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"Games In Gardens"
by
“They weren’t trying to,” Miss Bailey tried to explain, but Isaac’s picturesque recital was not lightly to be effaced.
“I guess games in gardens ain’t so awful healthy for somebody,” was Yetta Aaronsohn’s pronouncement. “My mamma says you could to make yourself a sickness sooner you runs awful hard, on’y Ikey, he says a whole bunch from mans und boys they chases theirselves like an’thing. They runs und they runs, und all the times the mans und the ladies scups und yells und makes go their flags. Ikey says it looks like a awful fight is comin’, on’y these boys und mans they couldn’t never run to catch theirselves, und so there ain’t no fight. Ikey had a awful sad over it.”
It was evident all through this recital that Eva Gonorowsky had a communication of a more important and confidential nature upon her conscientious little mind. When at last the other Monitors had scattered to their duties, and Room 18 was in a satisfactory stage midway ‘twixt chaos and order, Eva drew Miss Bailey into the corner between the window and the bookcase.
“Nobody ain’t told you all what Ikey says,” she whispered, with much the same gusto as she had seen her elders display as they gathered close about the very heart of a scandal. “Everybody has fraids over telling you.”
“Afraid!” repeated Miss Bailey in surprise, well knowing this to be the last feeling she inspired. “Afraid to tell me!”
“Teacher, yiss, ma’am. They has fraids. It’s somethin’ fierce what Ikey says. He says like that: all those mans what couldn’t to catch nothings und couldn’t to hit nothings. He says somethin’ fierce over all those mans.” And here Eva pressed her professionally soiled hand over her mouth and regarded Miss Bailey with scandalized eyes.
“Go on, dear,” said Miss Bailey encouragingly. “If Isaac has told you and Morris and the others I might as well know it too.”
Eva removed her hand. “Ikey Borrachsohn, he dun’no what is polite for him,” she made reply. “He tells it on everybody–in the yard even, where the babies is–he tells it out. He needs he shall get hit off of somebody.”
“Now you tell me,” said Miss Bailey, “and I’ll see about Isaac.”
“He says,” whispered Eva, “how all those mans they don’t puts them on like mans mit suits und hats und pants und coats–no, ma’am, that ain’t how they makes–they puts them on like ladies und like little girls. On’y,” and Miss Bailey had to stoop to catch this last overwhelming sentence–“on’y they don’t puts them on so much.”
“Why of course not, Eva,” answered Miss Bailey, repressing with stern effort an inclination to wild laughter. This repression she knew to be the corner-stone of the First Reader’s faith in her. She never, openly, laughed at their little confidences. She was a serious-minded person, always ready to discuss a serious problem seriously. Quite gravely now she pointed out to Eva the difficulty of violent exertion in street attire.
“You yourself,” she amplified, “take off your coat and hat when you come to school, and yet you only read and write a little, and do quiet things like that. Now these men and boys, dear, that Isaac Borrachsohn has been telling about were running and exercising just as hard as they could; you know how hot we sometimes get here when we only stand in our places and exercise our arms and legs.”
Eva was impressed, but not yet quite convinced.
“It ain’t,” she insisted, a gentle last word, unanswerable, overwhelming, “it ain’t hats und coats what Ikey Borrachsohn says them mens in Gardens takes off.”
* * * * *
Misunderstandings of this sort are a natural part of the order of the day in class rooms such as Room 18, where children, alien to every American custom, and prejudiced by religion and precept against most of them, are undergoing their training in citizenship. Generations of muffling and swaddling were behind Eva’s shocked little face. Her ancestors had not taken their recreation in running or rowing or swimming. And the scene at Madison Square Garden was as foreign to the First Readers’ traditions as a warm afternoon in Athens during the age of Pericles would have been to a New England spinster. It was the sort of misunderstanding which must be faced instantly, and immediately after assembly on the next morning Miss Bailey faced it.