Lenore Elizabeth Mulets - "Stories of Birds"

Thorstein Veblen - "An Inquiry Into The Nature Of Peace And The Terms Of Its Perpetuation"

John Philip Newman - "'America for Americans!'"

Unknown - "The Junior Classics, Volume 1"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Rosemary

J >> Josephine Lawrence >> Rosemary




"How could it get like that!" puzzled Rosemary as she drank a glass
of water. "I tasted it just before we served it and it was fine.
What on earth must Miss Parsons be thinking of me!"

Empty plates were carried back to the kitchen next time, and word
reached the young cooks that the pies were "wonderful" or "simply
great"--this last the expressed opinion of Mr. Oliver--and the fruit
salad met with an equally hearty reception. But not even the evident
enthusiastic approval which greeted the delicious ice-cream and cake
and perfect coffee which concluded the dinner, could compensate
Rosemary for her earlier mortification. When the meal was over and
the guests had gone down to the gymnasium for the reception and the
other girls had shed their aprons and followed, Nina too eager to
display the blue velvet frock to wait for Rosemary who insisted
there were several things she had to attend to, then she felt she
might cry a little for the first time in that long evening.

"Rosemary, my dear child, what is the matter?" Miss Parsons bustled
in, followed by the three elderly women who were to wash the dishes.
"Are you tired out? Was the dinner too much work?"

"The soup!" choked Rosemary. "Nobody could eat it. And I took such
pains with it."

"Well, I was sorry afterward that I told you to salt it again," said
Miss Parsons regretfully. "I suppose you were nervous and added too
much. But don't let that grieve you dear. The rest of the dinner was
perfectly delicious and you should hear what people are saying about
you. I want you to come down to the gymnasium now and meet some of
the teachers."

"Miss Parsons, I didn't over-salt the soup," protested Rosemary
earnestly. "I tasted it before and added just a dash as you told me;
and then I tasted it again, and it was all right. I _know_ I didn't
put in too much salt."

"Oh, nonsense, Rosemary, you were excited, that's all," said Miss
Parsons briskly. "Any one is likely to make a mistake when she has a
good deal on her mind. Don't give it another thought, and if you
do, just remember it is a warning against the next time. I like to
think that every mistake we make keeps us from running into danger
some other time when the results might be more serious."

Rosemary followed her teacher down to the gymnasium, but she only
half heard the introductions that followed and the kind comments on
her skill in cooking. She was wondering how she could convince Miss
Parsons that she had never put all that salt into her soup.

"Why it tasted as though a whole box of salt had just been thrown
into it," said Rosemary to herself, standing near a window to watch
for Doctor Hugh and the car. "I don't care how much any one has on
her mind, no one puts a whole box of salt into a soup kettle!"

And the voices of a group of girls, going home early, floated up to
her.

"She says she didn't do it," said one of them, and Rosemary could
not identify the speaker though the tone sounded familiar. "But if
it had been good I'll bet she would have taken all the credit. They
say it was fairly briny, it was so salty!"

Rosemary flushed scarlet. It wasn't fair!

"For I didn't, I didn't, I know I didn't!" she declared, sitting
between Doctor Hugh and Jack that night as they sped home in the
car. "I'm just as sure as I can be that I didn't make a mistake--why
I tasted it afterward and it was delicious."

"Well, if you didn't over-salt it, who did?" asked Jack practically.

"I don't know," admitted Rosemary. "I could cry when I think of it."

"I wouldn't do that," said her brother, turning in at their
driveway. "How about making us a chicken pie for Sunday dinner,
Rosemary, and asking Jack over to sample it?"

"I'll make it," agreed Rosemary, "but just the same I want to know
who salted my soup."




CHAPTER XVIII

SHIRLEY IN MISCHIEF


The chicken pie was a wonderful success, so Doctor Hugh and Jack
assured Rosemary at the Sunday dinner, but the mystery of the
over-salted soup seemed destined to remain unsolved. Miss Parsons
never mentioned it again and Rosemary herself might have forgotten
it more readily except for several ill-natured references by Fannie
Mears whenever the Institute dinner was spoken of. Fannie and
Rosemary did not get along very well together and this was, in one
way, odd, because Fannie and Nina Edmonds were apparently most
congenial. They usually ate their lunches together, but Rosemary
chose to be with Sarah and Shirley and their corner table was
usually crowded with younger girls who adored Rosemary openly.

The brief Thanksgiving holidays--with no school from Thursday to
Monday--brought the Willis family a more sincere appreciation of
their blessings than ever before. A short note from the little
mother lay beside each plate on Thanksgiving Day morning, and Winnie
kept one hand on hers tucked in her apron pocket even when she
served the golden brown waffles. When Aunt Trudy asked who would go
to church with her, Doctor Hugh answered for them all.

"We'll please Mother," he said simply, and after the service he
packed the three girls into the little roadster and carried them off
for a long cold ride that gave them famous appetites for Winnie's
dinner.

Doctor Hugh's practice was growing to include a wide radius of
countryside and the "young doctor" was gaining a name as one never
"too busy" to answer a country call. Doctor Jordan had prolonged his
vacation till late in October and then had returned to Eastshore
just long enough to sell his practice, office and instruments to his
young colleague and set off on a leisurely trip to California, a
luxury well earned after years of sacrificing service. Doctor Hugh
still retained the Jordan office, while seeing an increasing number
of patients at his home within fixed hours.

His office had a great attraction for Shirley, and Rosemary had
discovered her one afternoon standing on a chair and calmly smelling
the rows of bottles that stood on the cabinet shelf, one after the
other. The shining instruments, in their glass racks, had a
fascination all their own for the small girl and she declared that
she intended to be a doctor when she grew up.

"All right, and I'll take you into practice with me," Doctor Hugh
promised, having surprised her in a hurried investigation of his
medicine case. "But leave all these things alone, until you are
ready to study medicine. Don't come in the office when I'm not here,
Shirley; you'll hurt yourself some day, if you are not careful."

But Shirley was possessed with the idea that she would like to be a
doctor. She begged and carefully treasured all the empty bottles and
pill boxes she could gather; she demanded a knife for "operations"
and was highly indignant when Winnie gave her a pair of blunt
scissors and told her they would have to do; usually tender-hearted,
she drew the wrath of Sarah by declaring that she would like to cut
off a rabbit's leg, "just like a doctor."

"I think you're a cruel, cold-blooded girl!" stormed Sarah. "Cut off
a rabbit's foot indeed! Why don't you cut off your own foot and see
how it feels?"

"Oh, Shirley just says that," Rosemary tried to soothe her outraged
sister. "She wouldn't hurt a rabbit any more than you would, Sarah.
You know that. But you've gone without dessert twice for meddling
with Hugh's things, Shirley, and you did promise to remember after
the last time, you know."

Shirley, deprived of pudding and charlotte, was grieved and
penitent, but her memory was resilient and the day after
Thanksgiving temptation assailed her again. Winnie had gone to carry
a pie to an old neighbor several blocks away, Sarah was out playing
with a school chum and Rosemary and Aunt Trudy were deep in the
discussion of new curtains for the former's room. Shirley was left
to amuse herself and her small feet carried her to the empty office.

"Jennie needs an operation," whispered Shirley, her dancing eyes
roving toward the desk.

As luck would have it, a curved scalpel lay there in plain view.
Ordinarily it would have been locked up safely, but Doctor Hugh,
hurriedly selecting his choice of instruments that morning, had not
bothered to replace it in the rack. Shirley went over to the desk,
picked up the shining silver thing and carefully put it down.

"I'll go get Jennie," she said to herself. "She's very, very bad
this morning, and I ought to 'tend to her right away."

Upstairs she trotted, past Aunt Trudy's room and on to her room and
Sarah's where she rescued Jennie from under the bed.

"What are you doing, honey?" called Rosemary, as Shirley passed the
door again on her way down stairs.

"Playing with Jennie," was the wholly satisfactory answer.

"I think she plays better by herself than with Sarah," announced
Aunt Trudy. "Sarah is so apt to lead her into mischief. Would you
rather have a hem-stitched hem or ruffles, Rosemary?"

Back in the office, Shirley wasted no time in planning what to do.
She knew exactly how to proceed. Jennie was placed on the desk and
Shirley climbed into the swivel chair and grasped the scalpel. The
"operation" was to be performed on Jennie's arm, she, as a celluloid
doll, possessing an odd ridge in her anatomy that had always puzzled
Shirley. What made the ridge and what the inside of Jennie looked
like, were two questions that young doctor was determined to have
settled.

Jennie proved unexpectedly difficult to cut. Shirley stuck out her
tongue in her anxiety and breathed hard as she tried to drive the
scalpel in. It slipped suddenly, the chair tilted and the curved
shining blade cut a cruel gash in the little hand holding it so
tightly.

Pain, fright and a guilty conscience were blended in Shirley's
scream. Rosemary came rushing down, followed by Aunt Trudy who added
her cries to the child's when she saw her doubled up on the floor,
rocking back and forth and calling for Rosemary.

"Are you hurt, darling? What's the matter? Tell Auntie," begged Aunt
Trudy bending over the little girl.

"I cut my hand!" Shirley straightened up and Aunt Trudy caught a
glimpse of the bleeding hand and the front of the child's blouse all
stained where she had held it.

The sight of blood always unnerved Aunt Trudy. She shrieked now and
covered her eyes with her hands.

"I can't look at it--I'll faint, I know I shall!" she cried.
"Shirley will bleed to death, Rosemary. She has an awful cut. What
shall we do! What shall we do!"

The terrified Shirley began to scream more loudly and Aunt Trudy
walked up and down the floor moaning that it was awful!

"I'll get Hugh!" Rosemary flew to the desk 'phone.

She had heard him say where he meant to make a call and she hoped
desperately that he might be at that house or that she might be able
to leave a message for him if he had not yet arrived. But the doctor
had "come and gone" Mrs. Jackson said. He was going to stop at the
Winters, he said. Yes, they had a telephone.

Three more numbers Rosemary called, before she gained a ray of
comfort. At the fourth farmhouse the farmer's wife said that the
doctor was expected back in twenty minutes with a new brace he had
wanted them to try for their son's foot. He had offered to bring it
to them from the post-office because her husband was sick himself
with a cold--

Rosemary managed to check the good woman's flow of conversation and
to ask her to tell Doctor Hugh that he was wanted at home, when he
came. Shirley, tell him, had cut her hand.

Shirley's cries, subdued while Rosemary talked over the 'phone,
burst out again as the receiver clicked in place.

"Oh, dearest, hush!" implored Rosemary. "It doesn't hurt you so
very much, does it? Can't you be quiet till Hugh comes and makes you
all well?"

"It bleeds and bleeds," screamed Shirley, and Aunt Trudy groaned
that the child would bleed to death before their eyes.

"I'll wash it and bind it up myself," declared Rosemary, distracted
by the noise and confusion. "I don't know anything about such
things, but I think I can make it stop bleeding."

"I can't help you," said Aunt Trudy hastily. "I faint the minute I
see blood. My knees are weak now. Don't ask me to hold her, will
you, Rosemary?"

"I won't," promised Rosemary, biting her lower lip to keep it from
trembling. "I can take care of her, I know I can. Hugh keeps
bandages in this lower drawer and Winnie always has hot water in the
tea-kettle."

Aunt Trudy frankly ran from the room when Rosemary returned from the
kitchen with a basin of warm water and arranged a package of gauze
and the scissors on the glass topped table between the windows.

"I can't stay--I simply can not stay," she stammered and ran
upstairs to lie on her bed with her fingers in her ears.

Her going was rather a relief to Rosemary who was sure she would be
less nervous and shaky herself with her aunt out of the room. But
before she had finished with Shirley she was ready to admit that the
mere presence of a third person would have been some comfort,
however cold.

For Shirley shrieked protestingly when Rosemary approached her to
carry her over to the table. She fought off all attempts to look at
her hand. And when Rosemary forced her to yield and gently plunged
the poor little hand into the basin of water which was promptly
stained deep scarlet, Shirley, sure she was bleeding to death,
pulled away and ran for the door.

"Oh, darling, don't act this way," begged Rosemary, catching her and
holding her close. "Be a brave little girl and let sister wrap the
hand for you; it isn't such a bad cut, dear, and after we have
washed off the blood, there'll be nothing to be afraid of."

But Shirley continued to sob and squirm all the while Rosemary cut
and wound the gauze about her hand. As nearly as the inexperienced
Rosemary could tell, the cut was not serious though it was ugly to
see. Just as she fastened the tiny safety pin in place and was ready
to pronounce her bandaging done, the familiar two honks of the car
sounded outside.

"Oh, Hugh, I never was so glad to see you in my life!" exclaimed
Rosemary, as the doctor appeared in the doorway. "Shirley cut her
hand and she screamed and screamed and Aunt Trudy cried and it was
awful."

"Must have been," said Doctor Hugh briefly. "Let's see the cut."

Shirley, exhausted from crying and struggling, made a feeble attempt
to put her hand behind her, but the doctor held her firmly between
his knees and inspected the bandage.

"Pretty neat job," he said approvingly.

Shirley began to cry again as he unwound the gauze and when he asked
Rosemary to hand him a certain bottle and pour some of its contents
on the cut, the little girl's shrieks of pain were heart-rending.
Rosemary watched in amazement as her brother calmly dressed the cut
with fresh gauze and then, when he had finished, gathered Shirley up
in his arms to soothe her gently.

"She'll go to sleep in a minute," he said quietly. "She's worn out
with crying. How did it happen?"

Shirley heard him and half raised herself in his arms.

"I was going to operate on Jennie," she sobbed. "And the nasty knife
cut me. But I won't ever touch anything again, Hugh. Honest, I
won't."

In a few minutes she was sound asleep, and the doctor placed her on
the couch in one corner of the room and covered her with a light
blanket.

"Had a tough time, didn't you, Rosemary?" he said understandingly,
glancing from the basin on the table to Rosemary's tired face.
"Nobody home to help you and Aunt Trudy screaming louder than
Shirley I'll bet. I remember Aunt Trudy in hysterics when I came
home from school with a black eye one day."

"Well, I felt like screaming, too," admitted Rosemary, "the blood
did make me a little sick. But then there would have been no one to
look after Shirley. I did the best I could, but I'm a poor nurse,
Hugh."

"You never lose your head and that's the first rule for a good
nurse," said her brother. "Many a girl would never have thought of
trying to follow me up on the 'phone. And that was a mighty neat
bandage you did, child. You ought to learn first-aid, Rosemary.
Every girl should know what to do in an emergency or accident. I'll
teach you, if you like."

Rosemary was wise enough to accept his offer and her first-aid
lessons began that week, for Doctor Hugh did not believe in
postponement. He was determined, though he did not say to his
sister, to "make hysterics difficult" under any circumstances and
especially in a household emergency.




CHAPTER XIX

BUCKING THE STUDENT COUNCIL


Early December brought cold weather in its train and unusually heavy
snows. Householders were kept busy shoveling walks clean and the
boys and girls reveled in plenty of coasting. Sarah was invariably
late for supper these days and no amount of scolding from Winnie, or
pleading from Aunt Trudy, could induce her to desert the hill as
long as a single coaster remained to keep her company. Finally
Doctor Hugh devised a plan of going around that way before he came
home and, if Sarah were there, picking her and the sled up bodily
and bestowing them in the car.

"I'll bet I know something you don't," said Fannie Mears one noon,
coming over with Nina Edmonds to sit at the corner table with
Rosemary in bland indifference to scowls from Sarah and sighs from
Shirley.

Fannie Mears and Rosemary were not close friends at all, and the
latter was surprised at the overture. But she hospitably swept part
of the lunch aside to make room for the visitors and offered them a
couple of Winnie's delicious egg sandwiches.

"Thanks, we have enough," said Fannie. "Have you heard what the boys
are going to do?"

"Boys" with Fannie, meant the high school lads as Rosemary
immediately understood. The boys in the seventh grade failed to
interest either Fannie or Nina.

"No, what?" answered Sarah bluntly, in blissful ignorance that she
was not supposed to be included in the conversation.

"The Common Council has asked 'em to clean off the streets,"
announced Fannie, addressing herself to Rosemary, "and Jack Welles
is going to make himself awfully unpopular, if he isn't careful."

"Clean off the streets?" repeated Rosemary. "Why what do you mean?"

"There's been so many storms, they haven't been able to keep some of
the streets clear of snow," explained Nina, biting into a cup cake,
for Nina lunched almost exclusively on cake. "They've had gangs of
men working, but before they get one snow carted away, another
falls. And now the Common Council has decided to ask the high
school boys to work after school. My father is a Councilman, and he
told us all about the last meeting. They'll pay the boys and it will
be a regular lark."

"Yes, if Jack Welles doesn't go and spoil everything," said Fannie
darkly.

"How can he spoil everything?" Rosemary demanded.

She had not seen Jack so often once the school year was well under
way. Football practice had absorbed him during the early fall and
later came basketball. Other school and class activities, too,
claimed his attention, for Jack was popular and a good student as
well. He was president of his class, the Sophomores, and had that
year been appointed Student Advisor to the grammar school boys.

"How can Jack spoil things?" repeated Rosemary.

Fannie leaned across the table--she dearly loved to be important and
now she had something to tell.

"It's like this," she began. "My brother told me. The Student
Council had a letter from the Eastshore Common Council, saying they
wanted volunteer snow workers among the high school boys. And the S.
C. called the presidents of the four classes together and told them
to go ahead and get the workers, twelve from each class."

Fannie stopped and looked at Rosemary expectantly. Sarah's mouth was
wide open and she was listening eagerly. Shirley had wandered away
to play.

"Well?" said Rosemary sharply.

"Well," echoed Fannie disagreeably. "The boys made out their lists
and when Jack read his he had asked the two Gordon boys, Jerry and
Fred, and Eustice Gray and Norman Cox and Ben Kelsey. And Will says
the president of the Student Council was simply furious."

Rosemary began to fold up the napkins and put them back in the box.
Will Mears was Fannie's brother and the other boys she knew only by
sight.

"Why was Frank Fenton furious?" asked Sarah, delighting in the sound
of the three F's, though quite unconscious she had used them.

"Oh, do be still!" Fannie tried to squelch the younger girl. "Frank
was mad, of course, because the S. C. counted on having all the snow
money for the dramatic fund. They want to put on a play this spring
and Will says they haven't a cent in the treasury. And now Jack
Welles goes and spoils a perfectly splendid chance to earn a lot of
money."

"That's the third or fourth time you've said that about Jack," cried
Rosemary, stung into speech at last. "What has he done to spoil
anything? I don't see."

"Why I should think you would," said Fannie, while Nina nodded
sagely. "The Gordon boys and Eustice and Norman and Ben are as poor
as can be; they want the money for themselves, and Will says they
jumped at the chance to earn it. Don't you see, it will keep that
much out of the dramatic fund, and Jack could just as well have
appointed boys who could have been glad to turn over the money to
the school. Will calls it a disgusting lack of class spirit."

Rosemary's blue eyes snapped and fire burned in her cheeks.

"There's nothing the matter with Jack Welles' class spirit, Fannie
Mears!" she cried. "I should think you would be ashamed to repeat
anything like that, I don't care who said it."

"Well I'm not the only one who said it, or Will, either," declared
Fannie, rising as the warning bell sounded. "The president of the
Student Council told him what he thought of him, all right."

Inwardly seething, Rosemary managed to get away to her class room
without further argument. She had never liked Fannie Mears, she told
herself and now she almost hated her. As for Will Mears, president
of the High School Juniors, well he wasn't a bit better. What a
disagreeable family the Mears must be!

It was cooking class day, and Rosemary stayed almost an hour after
school that night, "puttering" as Miss Parsons called it, about the
school kitchen. Sarah and Shirley went home without her, and she was
walking briskly along alone, tramping hardily through the snow late
that afternoon, when Jack Welles overtook her.

"How's the soup?" he asked cheerfully, that being a stock question
of his ever since the fateful Institute dinner.

"How's the Student Council?" asked Rosemary.

Jack's open face changed.

"What do you know about the Student Council?" he said gruffly.

"Oh, I heard--something," replied Rosemary. "Was Frank Fenton
unfair, Jack?"

"Well, he doesn't think so," said Jack, "I suppose you girls have
been gossiping and you might as well get the story straight," he
added.

Rosemary nodded eagerly.

"I hope the Gray boys and the others will shovel snow," she cried
impulsively. "I don't give a fig for the old dramatic fund, Jack."

"I do," said Jack. "It's all right to turn the snow money into the
fund and I've nothing to say against that. But when the Student
Council kicks because five boys out of forty-eight want to keep what
they earn, and they know they are putting themselves through school,
I think it shows a contemptible, small spirit and I told Frank so
to-night. You see, Rosemary," he went on a little more calmly,
"there aren't a whole lot of ways a boy can earn money and go to
school in a small town like this--nearly everyone tends to his own
fires and sweeps off his own walks and runs his own errands. If we
hadn't had one snow storm after another, there wouldn't have been
this chance. And I purposely appointed these five boys because I
know what they are up against. And by gum," he said forcibly if
inelegantly, "on my squad they stay!"

"But can't the Student Council make you back down and appoint
others?" asked Rosemary, glowing with excitement. "I thought the S.
C. could do anything in high school, Jack."

"They are pretty powerful," her companion admitted, "but they don't
dare carry this to the faculty, because they'll look so small and
Eustice Gray is in the direct line for one of the college
scholarships. Every teacher on the faculty staff will stand by the
boys--they're all fine students and making a stiff fight to get
through school. You don't suppose Mr. Hamlin is going to think the
dramatic fund is more important than shoes for Norman Cox, do you?"

Mr. Hamlin was the principal of the high school.

"But it can't be very pleasant for the boys," urged Rosemary,
troubled.

"You've said it," confessed Jack gloomily. "I had a second fight
there, for after the fellows heard the Student Council was raising a
rumpus, they said they would get off my team and let others take
their places. Norman said he guessed they could get independent jobs
shoveling snow after school hours."

"Could they?" asked Rosemary.

"I suppose they could, but they won't if I have anything to say
about it," declared Jack with what Doctor Hugh called his "bull-dog"
expression. "I was told to appoint a snow cleaning team and I've
done it, and by gum my nominations stand. If the Student Council
doesn't like 'em, they can appeal to the faculty--and they'll get
what's coming to them! The town Council doesn't give a hoot where
the money goes, all they want is to have the snow cleaned away. I
told the fellows if they walked out, they made me just five short,
for I wouldn't appoint anyone in their places. If they want to see
the Sophomore class fall down on the job, all right. You watch my
twelve names go through!"

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.