Night Lamp Read Online Free PDF Page B

degree which transcends simple arrogance, to become an Elemental Principle: a real achievement for a person so young and slight of physique.” He thought it best not to say that he found her captivating.
    “She’s not a bad girl,” said Dame Wirtz. “There’s nothing vicious or mean in her nature, though of course she can be quite exasperating.”
    “She’s a little snip,” said Dame Borkle. “She needs a good spanking.”
    Since Skirlet was a Clam Muffin by birth, while Jaro, a nimp, commanded no prestige whatever, there was small chance for communication between the two, and even less for any social connection. Jaro had already discovered that some girls were prettier than others. At the upper end of the list he included Skirlet Hutsenreiter. He liked her taut little body and the swagger with which she conducted her affairs. Unfortunately, it was not Skirlet, but Dame Idora Wirtz, the middle-aged mathematics instructor, who found Jaro a charm and a delight. Jaro was so handsome, so clean, so innocent that she could barely restrain herself from seizing him and hugging him until he squeaked like a kitten. Jaro sensed her inclinations and kept out of reach.
    Idora Wirtz lacked physical appeal; she was small, thin, energetic, with sharp features and a barbaric ruff of brick-red ringlets. She wore garments of gaudy, purposely discordant, colors and always a dozen or more jangling bracelets, often on both arms. She had achieved the Parnassians, a society of the middle range, but could not escape; despite her most earnest efforts, she had been denied ascent into the clever Safardips, and the even more avant-garde Black Hats.
    One day she took Jaro aside. “A word with you, if you please. I must gratify my curiosity.”
    Dame Wirtz led Jaro into an empty classroom; then, leaning against the desk, studied him a moment. She said, “Jaro, you must be aware that you do excellent work—in fact, sometimes it is truly elegant.”
    “Thank you,” said Jaro. “I like doing my best.”
    “That is evident. Mr. Buskin says that your compositions are very well done, though they always deal with impersonal subjects, and that you never express your own point of view. Why is that?”
    Jaro shrugged. “I don’t like to write about myself.”
    “I realize that!” snapped Dame Wirtz. “I asked for your reasons.”
    “If I wrote of myself everyone would think I was vain.”
    “Well, what then? Skirlet Hutsenreiter writes the most scurrilous things imaginable, and doesn’t care a fig whether anyone likes it or not. She lacks all inhibition.”
    Jaro was puzzled. “And this is how I should write?”
    Dame Wirtz sighed. “No. But you might consider changing your point of view. You write like a proud recluse. Why are you not out there in the swim, breasting the social currents?”
    Jaro smiled. “Probably because I truly am a proud recluse.”
    Dame Wirtz made a sour face. “Naturally you know what those words mean?”
    “I think it is someone like a Clam Muffin who has never paid his subscription.”
    Dame Wirtz went to look out the window. When she turned back, she said, “I want to explain something very important. Please give me your attention.”
    “Yes, Dame Wirtz.”
    “You cannot go out into life without giving your best effort to the striving.”
    Jaro remained patiently silent. Idora Wirtz resisted the impulse to ruffle his hair. If she had one like this for her very own, how she would dote on him! She said, “As I recall, your parents are faculty folk at the Institute?”
    “Yes.”
    “I believe that they are nimps, as well. Mind you,” she hastened to say, “there’s nothing wrong with that! Though I myself prefer the social slope, for all its intricate nonsense. But of yourself? Naturally you do not intend to remain a nimp, and now is the time to set your foot on the ladder. The first rung is usually the Junior Service League. Anyone can join, so the prestige is small. Still, it’s a useful springboard