Emiline dreams of being a fair lady. She longs for drama, fashion, cities and fancy tea parties. But as a twelve-year-old, farm girl in the late 1800's, those things seem to be out of her reach. Meanwhile, a mystery begins to grow as she and her bes...
The ticking noise of the clock sounded loud in the class room. Dorothy's eyes looked up at it with yearning. As soon as those hands struck twelve, she would run outside. She was so hungry! At last, the wonderful moment came. Mrs. Weed snapped her book shut and all of the children leapt up from their desks and headed for the door. Dorothy was still one of the last. She had gone barefoot to school, and her poor feet were still sore from the pebbles she had walked on.
"That doesn't matter though," she told herself cheerfully. In time, her soft feet would be as hard as the soles of shoes and she would be able to run and play better than she had before. She didn't give a thought to the coming winter and how cold she would be when the snow started falling. Who could say? Maybe by then her father would gain enough money to buy her a new pair.
Pulling out her lunch, Dorothy sat down on the lowest stair step of the porch and dug into her food hastily. Until her feet got used to the rocky ground, she wouldn't be running off to her play house. She would just stay close to the school and listen to all of the things her classmates said.
The stairs squeaked as someone trotted down them and plopped down on the step beside her. Dorothy smiled up at the person welcomingly, but that sparkling smile almost faded when she saw that it was Julian. She tossed her worries behind her and broke the silence.
"I'm glad that it's lunch time!" she said brightly. "I was so hungry! Besides," she giggled, "I wanted to come outside. Isn't it a beautiful day God has made?" She gazed up into the deep ocean of sky and wished that she was a bird so she could fly through it. Julian didn't answer her. He only shot her an annoyed glare.
"Do you have to talk so much, Snotty?" he growled. Dorothy cowered nervously.
"No, I guess not," she answered quietly.
"Then don't!" the boy snapped. "I can't stand your squeaky voice! It's giving me a headache." He took a huge bite of the sandwich he had brought to school and then ate in grumpy silence.
Dotty tried to eat too, but she felt very uncomfortable. She wanted to leave, but she didn't want to be rude. Suddenly, she heard someone clear their throat and she looked up from her turnips and biscuit. A little ways away, Peter was sitting all alone on a large stump. His eyes were fixed on her and as soon as she saw him, he made a silent motion for her to follow him. Then, he got up and headed for the field behind the school. Dorothy sighed in relief. Now she had an excuse to leave.
Quickly, she obeyed the boy's invitation and hurried after him. It wasn't hard to walk through the soft grass of the field, so the two traveled a long ways away from the schoolhouse to a peaceful place beneath a tree.
The sunshine streamed through the leaves and limbs, making golden spots on the ground. Dotty closed her eyes and felt the beams of light dancing across her face.
"It's a nice day, isn't it?" she ventured with a shy blush. Julian hadn't thought much of God's beautiful day, but as soon as she said the words, Peter smiled and nodded.
"Did you hear the Robins?" the boy asked. "Sometimes I think that the birds must be singing praises to God. Maybe its their way of thanking him." Dorothy's eyes sparkled. This was a kind of poetry that she could understand and love.
Time slipped away quickly. Suddenly, a distant noise of tromping feet and chattering voices made Peter and Dorothy look up. All of the children were hurrying back into the schoolhouse. Lunch was over.
"Oh, we're going to be late!" Dotty exclaimed. She stood up on her sore feet as fast as she could. "You can run back, Peter. I'll be there soon." She would have loved to run, but she just couldn't today. Peter laughed and shook his head.
"That's alright," he said. "We won't be too late. I don't think Miss Weed will mind that much." The girl gave him a thankful smile and together they walked slowly back to the school.
When they left the sunshine and stepped into the cool of the building, everything seemed still and strange. The children were all seated at their desks, but they hadn't begun their lessons yet and Miss Weed was standing by her desk looking thoughtful. Peter glanced around curiously as he sat down. Usually Miss Weed greeted them all with a happy smile, but right now she looked worried and almost upset. Had something happened? At last, the teacher took a deep breath and tried to smile.
"Children," she began in a calm voice. "I have a dilemma and I need you to be very honest." The classmates all exchanged questioning glances. "This morning, I placed my lunch near the window," the woman went on. "But when I went to eat it, my lunch was gone. I'm not accusing anyone of taking it, I just need to know whether any of you have an idea of what happened to it." Silence was the only answer to her words. Finally, the lady shrugged her shoulders, feeling confused. They went on with their lessons, and for a couple of days, everyone forgot about the strange mishap. Then it happened again. Miss Weed tapped her finger against her desk in a frustrated way.
"This can't be a coincidence," she said almost sternly. "This is the second time my lunch has gone missing. Someone has to be taking it! I don't know who it is, but I'm sure everyone here knows how wrong it is to take things that don't belong to them." The children looked shocked and worried.
They shook their heads frantically, trying to avoid being blamed for the crime.
"We wouldn't steal from you, Miss Weed," one of them said. The others quickly agreed. A look of miserable defeat crossed the teacher's face.
"I hope that's true," she said quietly. Then, wracking her brain for an answer she mumbled to herself, "Maybe I'm wrong. Did I leave it home? Did I lose it?" Suddenly, a voice piped in with a tone of respect.
"I'll look for it if you want me to, Ma'am!" Miss Weed smiled gently.
"That's good of you Julian," she said. Peter glared over at the grinning bully.
"Hypocrite," he grumbled in disgust. "He wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone. Not unless he thought he could get something in return." But, to everyone's surprise, the boy did look high and low. Most of the other children searched too, and Miss Weed even checked the children's lunch pails and pockets. But there was no sign of her missing lunch. Dorothy offered to share her own turnips and half a muffin with the teacher, but the lady refused them politely.
Peter couldn't help but suspect thatJulian had taken the lunch. But the boy looked just as shocked about the newsas the others. It didn't seem possible for him to put on such a convincing act.The mystery went on and on.
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