Young Witches & Warlocks by Asimov Isaac

Author:Asimov, Isaac
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-16T16:00:00+00:00

Mistress Sary

William Tenn

It was a particular talent Sarietta had . . . to get others hot under the collar.

* * *

This evening, as I was about to enter my home, I saw two little girls bouncing a ball solemnly on the pavement to the rhythm of a very old little girls’ chant. My lips must have gone gray as the sudden pressure of my set jaws numbed all feeling, blood pounded in my right temple; and I knew that, whatever might happen, I couldn’t take another step until they had finished.

One, two, three alary—

I spy Mistress Sary Sitting on a bumble-ary, Just like a little fairy!

As the girl finished the last smug note, I came to life. I unlocked the door of my house and locked it behind me hurriedly. I switched on the lights in the foyer, the kitchen, the library. And then, for long forgotten minutes, I paced the floor until my breathing slowed and the horrible memory cowered back into the crevice of the years.

That verse! I don’t hate children—no matter what my friends say, I don’t hate children—but why do they ' have to sing that stupid little song? Whenever I’m around. ... As if the unspeakably vicious creatures know what it does to me. . . .

Sarietta Hawn came to live with Mrs. Clayton when her father died in the West Indies. Her mother had been Mrs. Clayton’s only sister, and her father, a British colonial administrator, had no known relatives. It was only natural that the child should be sent across the Caribbean to join my landlady’s establishment in Nanville. It was natural, too, that she should be enrolled in the Nanville Grade School where I taught arithmetic and science to the accompaniment of Miss Drury’s English, history and geography.

“That Hawn child is impossible, unbelievable!” Miss Drury stormed into my classroom at the morning recess. “She’s a freak, an impudent, ugly little freak!”

I waited for the echoes to die down in the empty classroom and considered Drury’s intentional Victorian figure with amusement. Her heavily corseted bosom heaved and the thick skirts and petticoats slapped against her ankles as she walked feverishly in front of my desk. I leaned back and braced my arms against my head.

“Now you better be careful. I’ve been very busy for the past two weeks with a new term and all, and I haven’t had a chance to take a good look at Sarietta. Mrs. Clayton doesn’t have any children of her own, though, and since the girl arrived on Thursday the woman has been falling all over her with affection. She won’t stand for punishing Sarietta like—well, like you did Joey Richards last week. Neither will the school board for that matter.”

Miss Drury tossed her head angrily. “When you’ve been teaching as long as I have, young man, you’ll learn that sparing the rod just does not work with stubborn brats like Joey Richards. He’ll grow up to be the same kind of no-account drunk as his father if I don’t give him a taste of birch now and then.

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