Шарлотта Бронте – Jane Eyre. An Autobiography / Джейн Эйр. Автобиография (страница 5)

“She had better be put to bed soon; she looks tired: are you tired?” she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“A little, ma’am.”

“And hungry too, no doubt: let her have some supper before she goes to bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you have left your parents to come to school, my little girl?”

I explained to her that I had no parents. She asked how long they had been dead: then how old I was, what my name was, whether I could read, write, and sew a little: then she dismissed me along with Miss Miller.

The lady I had left might be about twenty-nine; the one who went with me appeared some years younger: the first impressed me by her voice, look, and air. Miss Miller was more ordinary; she looked, indeed, what I afterwards found she really was, an under-teacher. Led by her, I passed from passage to passage of a large building; till we entered a wide, long room, with great tables, and seated all round on benches, girls of every age, from nine or ten to twenty. They were uniformly dressed in brown frocks, and long pinafores. It was the hour of study; they were busy doing their to-morrow’s task.

Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a bench near the door, then she cried out —

“Monitors, collect the lesson-books and put them away!”

Four tall girls arose from different tables, and gathered the books and removed them. Miss Miller again gave the word of command —

“Monitors, fetch the supper-trays!”

The tall girls went out and returned presently, each bearing a tray, with portions of something, and a pitcher of water and mug in the middle of each tray.

The portions were handed round; those who liked took a sip of the water, the mug being common to all. When it came to my turn, I drank, for I was thirsty, but did not touch the food: I now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared into fragments.

The meal over, prayers were read by Miss Miller, and the classes went off, two and two, upstairs. Tired, I scarcely noticed what sort of a place the bedroom was, except that it was very long. To-night I was to be Miss Miller’s bed-fellow; she helped me to undress. I glanced at the long rows of beds, each of which was quickly filled with two occupants; in ten minutes the light was extinguished, and I fell asleep.

The night passed rapidly. I was too tired even to dream. When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell was ringing; the girls were up and dressing. I too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold, and I dressed as well as I could for shivering, and washed when there was a basin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was one basin to six girls. Again the bell rang: all formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom: here prayers were read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out —

“Form classes!”

A great tumult lasted for some minutes. When it ceased, I saw the girls all in four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the four tables; all held books in their hands, and a great book, like a Bible, lay on each table, before the vacant seat. A distant bell tinkled: immediately three ladies entered the room, each walked to a table and took her seat. Miss Miller took the fourth vacant chair, around which the smallest of the children were assembled: to this inferior class I was called.

Business now began, certain texts of Scripture[18] were said, and reading of chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour, was done. By the time that exercise was done, day had fully dawned. The bell now sounded for the fourth time: the classes marched into another room to breakfast: how glad I was to get something to eat! The refectory was a great, gloomy room; on two long tables smoked basins of something hot, which, however, gave an odour far from inviting[19]. The tall girls of the first class whispered —

“Disgusting! The porridge is burnt again!”

Hungry, I ate a spoonful or two of my portion without thinking of its taste; but burnt porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes. I saw each girl taste her food and try to swallow it. Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted.

A quarter of an hour passed before lessons again began, during which the schoolroom was in a tumult. The whole conversation ran on the breakfast. Miss Miller was now the only teacher in the room: a group of great girls standing about her spoke with serious gestures. I heard the name of Mr. Brocklehurst pronounced by some lips; at which Miss Miller shook her head disapprovingly.

A clock in the schoolroom struck nine; Miss Miller left her circle, and standing in the middle of the room, cried —

“Silence! To your seats!”

Discipline prevailed: in five minutes the crowd was brought to order. The upper teachers now punctually took their posts: but still, all seemed to wait. What was the matter? I had heard no order given: I was puzzled. The classes were again seated: but all eyes were now turned to one point, mine followed the general direction, and met the personage who had received me last night. She stood at the bottom of the long room. Miss Miller said aloud —

“Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!”

The lady moved slowly up the room. Miss Temple – Maria Temple, as I learned afterwards, the superintendent of Lowood, having taken her seat before a pair of globes, began giving a lesson on geography. The duration of each lesson was measured by the clock, which at last struck twelve. The superintendent rose —

“I have a word to address to the pupils,” said she.

She went on —

“You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat; you must be hungry: – I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese shall be served to all.”

The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise.

“It is to be done on my responsibility,” she added, and immediately afterwards left the room.

The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, to the delight of the whole school.

After morning classes I went into the yard for a short walk, when the sound of a cough made me turn my head. I saw a girl sitting on a stone bench near; she was bent over a book. In turning a leaf she looked up, and I said to her directly —

“Is your book interesting?”

“I like it,” she answered, after a pause of a second or two, during which she examined me.

“What is it about?” I continued. I hardly know where I found the courage to open a conversation with a stranger.

“You may look at it,” replied the girl, offering me the book.

I did so; but I saw nothing of interest to me. I returned it to her; she received it quietly, and was about to start reading: again I dared to disturb her —

“Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the door means? What is Lowood Institution?”

“It is partly a charity-school: you and I, and all the rest of us, are charity-children. I suppose you are an orphan?”

“Both my parents died before I can remember.

I wonder if they keep us for nothing?”

“We pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each.”

“Does this house belong to that tall lady who said we were to have some bread and cheese?”

“To Miss Temple? Oh, no! I wish it did: she has to answer to Mr. Brocklehurst for all she does. Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our food and all our clothes. He lives two miles off, at a large house. He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good.”

“Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?”

“Yes.”

“And what are the other teachers called?”

“The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she teaches us to sew; the little one with black hair is Miss Scatcherd; she teaches history and grammar; and the one who wears a shawl, is Madame Pierrot: she comes from France, and teaches French.”

“Do you like the teachers?”

“Well enough.”

“But Miss Temple is the best – isn’t she?”

“Miss Temple is very good and very clever; she is above the rest, because she knows far more than they do.”

“Have you been long here?”

“Two years.”

“Are you an orphan?”

“My mother is dead.”

“Are you happy here?”

“You ask too many questions. I have given you answers enough for the present: now I want to read.”

But at that moment the bell sounded for dinner; all re-entered the house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more appetising than at breakfast: I ate what I could, and wondered whether every day’s food would be like this.

After dinner, we immediately went back to the schoolroom: lessons recommenced, and continued till five o’clock.

We had another meal, consisting of a small mug of coffee, and half-a-slice of brown bread. I ate my bread and drank my coffee with pleasure; but I was still hungry. Half-an-hour’s recreation followed, then study; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and bed. Such was my first day at Lowood.

Chapter VI

The next day began as before, but this morning we couldn’t wash up; the water in the pitchers was frozen. Before the long hour of prayers and Bible-reading was over, I felt ready to die with cold. Breakfast-time came at last, and this morning the porridge was not burnt; the quality was eatable, the quantity small. How small my portion seemed! I wished it had been doubled.