Ellen Tebbits (8 page)

“Come on, let’s practice skating backward.”

“I can’t stay long today, Austine. Mother says I have to change my clothes after a while and go downtown with her to pick out patterns and materials, so she can start making me some new school clothes. I wish I didn’t have to go. I’d rather skate.”

“I suppose Mother will take me down sometime before school starts and get me some boughten dresses,” said Austine.

“Austine, you know what?” Ellen twirled her skate key around by its string. “I have the most wonderful idea!”

“Oh, Ellen, tell me!”

“Well,” said Ellen, “wouldn’t it be fun if we could have dresses alike? And go downtown together Wednesday, when I go to show the dentist the bands on my teeth, and pick out our very own material and pattern all by ourselves?”

“Oh, Ellen,” squealed Austine. “That’s a wonderful idea!”

“People might even think we were twins,” added Ellen.

“Of course, we don’t look a bit alike,” said the practical Austine, “but they might think we’re the kind of twins who don’t look alike.” She thought a minute and said,

“The trouble is, your mother makes your dresses and my mother buys mine.” 

“Doesn’t your mother ever sew?” asked Ellen. She couldn’t imagine a mother not knowing how to sew.

“Well, sort of. She mends things and she lets my dresses down when they get too short. Maybe she could make a dress if I asked her to. Maybe it would be safer to ask your mother first,” suggested Austine. “If she says you can, then maybe Mother will let me.” This seemed like a good idea. If one mother said yes, the other usually did too.

The girls were always careful to ask the right mother first. Now they skated back to Ellen’s house, clumped up the front steps on their skates, and called to Mrs. Tebbits through the screen door. Ellen explained what they wanted to do.

“Well, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Tebbits, putting down her dustcloth and coming to the door.“Are you sure you would wear the dresses after they were made?”

“Oh yes, Mother. We want people to think we’re twins. They might think we were the kind that don’t look alike. Please, Mother, say we can.”

Mrs. Tebbits smiled. “I suppose you’ll have to learn to choose your own clothes sometime. If Mrs. Allen says you may, it’s all right with me.”

“Oh, thank you,” said both the girls.Then they clumped down the steps, skated back to Austine’s house, clumped up her front steps, and called through the screen door.

Mrs. Allen laughed when she heard what they wanted. “Where do you girls get such ideas?”

“Please, Mother,” begged Austine.“Ellen’s mother says we may.”

“But, Austine,” protested her mother, “I always buy your dresses ready-made. You know what my sewing is like.”

“We’d pick out a real easy pattern,” promised Austine. “Please, Mother, couldn’t you make me a dress just once?” Mrs. Allen smiled. “All right, dear. Since you want it so much, I’ll make you a dress.” On Wednesday, after the dentist had looked at the bands on Ellen’s teeth, the girls rode the escalators, which were more fun than elevators, to the fifth floor of a department store. Ellen led the way to the pattern department, where she had shopped with her mother many times.The girls knew they wanted a dress with a flared skirt, so it did not take them long to select a pattern.

Choosing the material came next. The two mothers had agreed that the girls could buy anything they wanted as long as it did not cost more than seventy-nine cents a yard. There was so much to choose from: plain materials, plaids, polka dots, stripes; materials printed with leaves, flowers, kittens, ducks, airplanes—almost any design you could think of. The girls looked and looked.

Ellen felt the materials between her thumb and forefinger the way she had seen her mother feel yard goods. She was not sure how it was supposed to feel, but she liked to pretend she knew a good piece of material when she felt it.

“I don’t want stripes,” said Austine firmly. “Mother always chooses dresses for me with up-and-down stripes to make me look thinner.”

Ellen giggled. “Mother thinks stripes running around make me look fatter. And I don’t want a dress printed with kittens. I have kittens on my pajamas.”

“I’d like something with red in it,” said Austine. “Mother never buys me anything red.”

“I like red, too,” agreed Ellen. “Here’s a piece with some red in it. Look, Austine, it’s printed with darling little red monkeys.”

“And palm trees,” exclaimed Austine. “I like palm trees.”

The girls admired the material. Red palm trees were printed on a white background.

From each tree a small red monkey hung by its tail. Ellen and Austine thought it was the nicest material they had ever seen and just what they wanted for their dresses.

For the next few weeks the girls talked of nothing but the first day of school, when they would dress alike. Austine even changed the part in her hair from the left side to the right side so she and Ellen would look more alike. They agreed that they would both wear white bobby socks. Since it would be their first day in the fourth grade, their mothers said they could wear their black slippers. After that they would have to wear their everyday Oxfords.

Mrs. Tebbits cut out Ellen’s dress first.

When it was ready to try on, Austine came over to watch. It fitted nicely, and Ellen twirled around in her flared skirt. Even though it was without a collar and sleeves and the skirt was not hemmed, the girls could see it was going to be a lovely dress.

“I wish Mother would hurry up with mine,” said Austine.

But Mrs. Allen did not sew as quickly as Mrs. Tebbits. She pinned and basted and stopped frequently to read the directions.

She spent a lot of time ripping. Sometimes she stuffed the whole thing in a drawer and did not sew at all for several days. The girls became more and more anxious. Ellen asked about the dress so many times she felt it would not be polite to ask any more.

Austine stopped mentioning it altogether.

Then the evening before school started, Austine telephoned Ellen.“Guess what!” she said.“Mother is hemming my dress this very minute and it’ll be ready in time for tomorrow. I thought she wasn’t going to get it finished, but she worked all afternoon, and Bruce and I fixed dinner so she could sew.

Don’t forget to wear your white socks.” The next morning Ellen dressed carefully and did not squirm while her mother brushed her hair and tied her sash in a nice fat bow. She twirled around to admire the fullness of her skirt and peered over her shoulder at her sash. She liked her new dress more than any dress she had ever owned.

She could hardly wait to walk into her new fourth-grade room with Austine.

She walked as quickly as she could to Austine’s house. She walked, because her sash might come untied if she ran. She tap-danced,
hop, one-two-three
, on Austine’s porch and waited for Austine to come out. She waited a long time.
Hop, one-two-three, slap
down, slap down
.

Finally Austine came out with a piece of toast in her hand. “Well, come on,” she said crossly.

Ellen stared. Austine’s dress did not look the least bit like hers. The material was the same, but everything else was different.

Austine’s skirt sagged at the bottom. The sleeves did not puff the way Ellen’s did and the collar did not quite meet under Austine’s chin.The buttons were sewed on over snaps instead of buttoning through real button-holes. The waist was too tight and gapped between the buttons. Worst of all, there was no sash to tie in a nice fat bow.

“But, Austine,” said Ellen in dismay,

“there’s supposed to be a sash.” Austine finished the last bite of toast and licked her fingers. “Well, there isn’t going to be on mine. I’m bigger than you are, and Mother had to allow extra material on the sides of the dress. And then she made a mistake in cutting the sleeves, and when she got through there wasn’t any material left for a sash. Mother says I’m too plump to wear such a wide sash, anyway.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Ellen didn’t know what to say. She was terribly disappointed.

She supposed she ought to offer to take off her sash, but it was such a lovely one.

Besides, her mother had stitched it to her dress at the sides, so she would not lose it.

“Well, I think you might take off your sash,” said Austine, pulling a basting thread out of her hem. “We’re supposed to look like twins, you know. It was all your idea in the first place.”

“I can’t take it off. It’s sewed to my dress,” said Ellen, secretly glad she could not take off her sash.

Austine did not answer. The girls walked in unhappy silence. When they were half a block from school, the first bell rang.

“Come on,” said Ellen, glad to have an excuse to speak. “We’d better run.” She started to run and as she did, Austine grabbed the end of her sash.The bow came untied. Austine laughed.

“Oh, Austine. Now look what you’ve done,” said Ellen, trying to retie the bow. It was hard to tie a bow she could not see. One loop pointed up and the other pointed down. Austine did not offer to help.

Austine seemed to feel better after that.

She even took Ellen’s hand as they hurried down the hall to their new fourth-grade room. Ellen squeezed her hand in excite-ment. The first day in a new room was so exciting. She thought the boys and girls going into the third-grade room looked very young.

In the fourth-grade room the children were busy deciding which seats to sit in.

“What are you dressed that way for?” demanded Linda Mulford, as some of the class crowded around the two girls.

“Maybe they think they’re dressed like twins,” said Joanne.

“Girls always want to be twins,” said George. “I think it’s dumb.”

“Where’s your sash, Austine?” asked Amelia.

“I don’t see why everyone has to make such a fuss, just because we happen to have dresses made out of the same material,” said Ellen.

Otis came over to inspect the dresses.

“Look at the monkeys!” he yelled. Leaning forward and dangling his arms, he bent his knees and walked like a monkey.

“Cut it out, Otis,” ordered Austine. “You think you’re funny, but you’re not!” Otis scratched himself under one arm and pretended to look for fleas.

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Ellen, and turned her back.

Otis hopped around in front of her and scratched himself under the other arm.

“Oh!” said Ellen furiously, and whirled around again.

Then Mrs. Gitler, their new teacher, came into the room and asked the boys and girls to take seats. When Ellen started to hurry to a back seat, Austine took hold of her sash and, as Ellen walked, it came untied.

“Austine, I wish you’d stop untying my sash,” snapped Ellen.

“I didn’t untie it,” said Austine.“I held on to it and you untied it when you walked.” Ellen was so cross she didn’t answer. By that time all the back seats were taken, so she chose a seat by the window. Austine took a seat by the blackboard. Ellen was sorry Austine didn’t want to sit beside her any more. She really didn’t want to quarrel with her best friend.

It was not until lunch time that the real trouble began.When the class crowded into line at the door to wait for the bell to ring, Ellen knew that Otis and Austine were standing behind her.“Hey, quit shoving,” she heard Otis say.

Someone bumped against Ellen. “Excuse me,” said Austine, and then added to someone else, “Well, you don’t have to push.

There’s plenty of room.”

It’s silly, getting mad over a sash, thought Ellen. I’m going to pretend nothing has happened. She was about to turn around and ask Austine to eat lunch with her in the cafeteria, when she felt someone grab her sash and yank.

This time Ellen was really angry with Austine. Without stopping to think, she whirled around with her hand out. She turned so quickly that Austine, who was laughing, didn’t have time to dodge.  

Before Ellen realized what was happening, the palm of her hand struck Austine’s face with an angry smack. Austine gasped and put her hand to her cheek. Her face turned red and her eyes filled with tears.

Ellen stared, horrified. The classroom began to buzz with whispers. Mrs. Gitler clapped her hands. “Boys and girls, I don’t like this talking. If I hear any more, we shall all go back to our seats until we can be quiet.”