graduated. It had been important to protest at the start, but Theo knew this was one he couldn’t win so there was no need to drag the unpleasantness out.
Theodore Artemus Lyman—he’d given his son a different middle name, Speedwell, which seemed enormously ironic at the moment—sighed heavily and got up. “See that you do. I’ll be getting weekly reports, and those papers must be submitted to the college by the end of July.”
“Don’t worry, Father. It’s going to be a wonderful summer.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Mr. Lyman muttered as his feckless son escaped out the door.
Ursula crouched lower behind one of the tall blue and white Japanese porcelain jars that stood in the hallway on either side of the library door. Soon she wouldn’t be able to fit into the space between the jar and the wall—it was getting to be a tight fit—and one of her favorite hiding places would be gone. You could hear everything that was said in the library, especially if the door hadn’t been closed all the way as today. She loved the jars, with their misty scenes of landscapes that came straight from one of Andrew Lang’s fairy-tale collections. She leaned her cheek against the jar’s cool surface and closed her eyes, gently tapping the rim. She imagined that the soft, clear note was a temple gong and shadowy figures were moving in a rapid wave toward a shrine.
She leaned back against the wall and opened her eyes, in no hurry to move. School was over for the year and the house was in an uproar of cleaning and packing. Most of the rooms would be shut, the furniture draped like so many ghosts. Father would dine at his club and only use his library, one sitting room, and his bed and dressing rooms.
Poor Theo! It was a shame that he’d have to spend his summer studying, but Ursula was glad the Professor would be with them. When she had been introduced to him, she’d immediately asked him if he liked birds, and instead of answering “Only songbirds, kiddo,” as Scooter had, the Professor had replied, “All birds or specifically shore, meadow, or woodlands?” He wouldn’t be working with Theo every minute, and she’d already packed the Leitz binoculars she’d asked for and received for her birthday plus her little life-list notebook bound in bright red Moroccan leather, hoping he would join her when she searched for new sightings to add.
She was worried about what the storm on Sanpere had done to her things—her bedroom was in the back of the house, which had received the worst damage. Was her fern collection safe? She’d spent hours neatly pressing, labeling, and gluing them into a scrapbook. And what about the abandoned birds’ nests she’d found and arranged on a shelf in her room? For all she knew they could be in a sodden heap in the middle of the floor. It was exciting to go to a new place, but she wished they could go to Sanpere for just a little while, even if they had to stay elsewhere. Her father had promised a full account of her things. He was going up in August to check on the work. She sighed. It was a long time to wait.
What was this summer going to be like? In her mind the two events—the damage to the Sanpere house and Theo’s disastrous grades—had somehow merged together as the reason why they had to go to this new island. It might not make sense, but it was how she felt.
Why couldn’t Theo just do his schoolwork and then go have fun afterward! That was why he kept failing. All that fun. He needed more serious friends, although Scooter was awfully nice. But a friend who would keep him from his weaknesses. A friend like the Professor.
Father had just said that Theo must get it through his head that he would have to make his own way in the world. Theo had laughed and said that was exactly what he intended to do—enter the business world like his father. He’d quoted former President Coolidge, “The business of America is business.” Ursula knew this was one thing father and son
Theodore Artemus Lyman—he’d given his son a different middle name, Speedwell, which seemed enormously ironic at the moment—sighed heavily and got up. “See that you do. I’ll be getting weekly reports, and those papers must be submitted to the college by the end of July.”
“Don’t worry, Father. It’s going to be a wonderful summer.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Mr. Lyman muttered as his feckless son escaped out the door.
Ursula crouched lower behind one of the tall blue and white Japanese porcelain jars that stood in the hallway on either side of the library door. Soon she wouldn’t be able to fit into the space between the jar and the wall—it was getting to be a tight fit—and one of her favorite hiding places would be gone. You could hear everything that was said in the library, especially if the door hadn’t been closed all the way as today. She loved the jars, with their misty scenes of landscapes that came straight from one of Andrew Lang’s fairy-tale collections. She leaned her cheek against the jar’s cool surface and closed her eyes, gently tapping the rim. She imagined that the soft, clear note was a temple gong and shadowy figures were moving in a rapid wave toward a shrine.
She leaned back against the wall and opened her eyes, in no hurry to move. School was over for the year and the house was in an uproar of cleaning and packing. Most of the rooms would be shut, the furniture draped like so many ghosts. Father would dine at his club and only use his library, one sitting room, and his bed and dressing rooms.
Poor Theo! It was a shame that he’d have to spend his summer studying, but Ursula was glad the Professor would be with them. When she had been introduced to him, she’d immediately asked him if he liked birds, and instead of answering “Only songbirds, kiddo,” as Scooter had, the Professor had replied, “All birds or specifically shore, meadow, or woodlands?” He wouldn’t be working with Theo every minute, and she’d already packed the Leitz binoculars she’d asked for and received for her birthday plus her little life-list notebook bound in bright red Moroccan leather, hoping he would join her when she searched for new sightings to add.
She was worried about what the storm on Sanpere had done to her things—her bedroom was in the back of the house, which had received the worst damage. Was her fern collection safe? She’d spent hours neatly pressing, labeling, and gluing them into a scrapbook. And what about the abandoned birds’ nests she’d found and arranged on a shelf in her room? For all she knew they could be in a sodden heap in the middle of the floor. It was exciting to go to a new place, but she wished they could go to Sanpere for just a little while, even if they had to stay elsewhere. Her father had promised a full account of her things. He was going up in August to check on the work. She sighed. It was a long time to wait.
What was this summer going to be like? In her mind the two events—the damage to the Sanpere house and Theo’s disastrous grades—had somehow merged together as the reason why they had to go to this new island. It might not make sense, but it was how she felt.
Why couldn’t Theo just do his schoolwork and then go have fun afterward! That was why he kept failing. All that fun. He needed more serious friends, although Scooter was awfully nice. But a friend who would keep him from his weaknesses. A friend like the Professor.
Father had just said that Theo must get it through his head that he would have to make his own way in the world. Theo had laughed and said that was exactly what he intended to do—enter the business world like his father. He’d quoted former President Coolidge, “The business of America is business.” Ursula knew this was one thing father and son
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