Chapter 7 chapter Five

On the morning of January 19th, just as the clock struck five, Bessie came into my little room with a candle in her hand.She found me up and almost dressed.Half an hour before she came in, I got up and washed my face.At this time, half a bright moon was setting in the west, and I put on my clothes by taking advantage of the moonlight shining in from the small window beside the bed.On this very day I shall leave Gateshead Hall in the carriage which passes the gates of the Court at six o'clock in the morning.Bessie alone was up; she had lighted a fire in the nursery, and was now preparing my breakfast.Few children can afford to eat when they are excited about the idea of ​​a trip, and neither do I.Bessie made me drink some teaspoons of the warm milk she had prepared for me, and some bread, but it was no use, but she wrapped some biscuits in paper, and put them in my bag.Then she helped me into my coat and hat, and wrapped herself in a shawl, and left the nursery with me.Passing Mrs. Reed's bedroom, she asked, "Would you like to go in and say good-bye to Mrs."

"No, Bessie. She came to my bed last night when you came down to supper, and asked me not to wake her, or my cousins, in the morning. She wanted me to remember that she always She's my best friend, and she wants me to say the same to people, and to appreciate her." "Then what do you say, miss?" "I didn't say anything. I covered my face with the quilt, turned to face the wall, and ignored her." "That's not right, Miss Jane." "That's quite right, Bessie, that lady of yours has never been my friend, she has always been my enemy."

"Oh, Miss Jane! Don't say that!" "Goodbye, Gateshead!" I said aloud as we crossed the hall and exited the front door. The moon had set, and it was dark, and Bessie carried a lamp, which shone on the steps and gravels which had just thawed and become wet.My teeth chatter as I hurry down the driveway on a damp and cold winter morning.There was a gleam of light in the caretaker's hut.When we got there, the janitor's wife was lighting a fire.My box, which had been brought down the night before, was tied up with a rope and placed by the door.It's only a few minutes until six o'clock.Shortly after the stroke of six, the sound of wheels in the distance announced the approach of the carriage.I walked to the door and saw the lights of the car approaching rapidly in the darkness.

"She's going alone?" asked the porter's wife. "yes." "how far?" "Fifty miles." "What a distance! I wonder how Mrs. Reed dares to let her go so far alone." The carriage arrived and stopped at the gate, with four horses harnessed to it, and the top seat full of passengers.The steward and the coachman urged loudly to get on the car.My suitcases were loaded into the car, and I put my arms around Bessie's neck and kissed, and was pulled away. "Be sure to take good care of her!" Bessie shouted as the driver carried me into the car.

"Yes, yes!" replied the steward.The doors slammed shut, someone yelled "OK!" and off we went.In this way I said good-bye to Bessie, and left Gateshead Hall, and was hastily taken away to a strange place which seemed to me at the time still remote and mysterious. I don't remember much about the situation along the way. I only know that that day seemed strangely long to me. We seemed to have traveled hundreds of miles.We passed through several towns, and the carriage stopped in one of the larger ones.The horses were all unloaded, and the passengers got off to eat.The steward took me to an inn, and asked me to eat something there, but I didn't want it, so he left me in a big room.There were fireplaces at either end of the room, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a small red display case nailed high on the wall filled with musical instruments.I walked up and down there for a long time, feeling very uncomfortable, and very afraid that someone would come in and take me away.I believe in kidnappers, and their work is often seen in Bessie's fireside stories.At last the steward returned, and I was thrust into the carriage again.My protector climbed into his own seat, blew his humming horn, and we continued on our way through the "cobblestone streets" of Le City amidst the rattle of traffic.

In the afternoon it became humid and a bit foggy.Towards dusk I began to feel that we were really far from Gateshead.We did not pass through the town again, and the scenery of the field changed, with gray mountains jutting out from the surrounding horizon.As twilight grew we entered a dark, wooded valley, and long after night had settled over the surrounding landscape, I heard the wind howling through the trees. Under the hypnosis of this sound, I finally fell asleep.But I didn't sleep for long when the car stopped suddenly and woke me up.The car door opened, and a woman who looked like a servant stood by the door.With the help of the light, I could see her face and clothes clearly.

"Is there a little girl called Jane Eyre in the car?" she asked.I answered "Yes", and then I was carried out of the carriage, and my suitcase was handed down.Then the carriage was on its way again at once. My body was stiff from sitting so long, and my head was dizzy from the noise and jolts of the car.After returning to normal, I looked around, but saw that the surroundings were dark and windy and windy.Still, I vaguely discerned a wall in front of me, and a door in the wall that was open.I followed my new guide into the gate, and as soon as we were in she shut the door behind her and locked it, and now I can see that there is a house or houses—for the houses spread far—and there are many The windows, and some of the windows had lights in them.We walked on a wide gravel road, splashing water and walking forward.After going through a door, the maid led me down a corridor, and finally into a burning room.She left me there alone.

I stood there, warming my numb fingers over the fire, and looked around.There were no candles in the room, but the flickering fire in the fireplace occasionally illuminated the wallpapered walls, the rugs, the drapes, and the gleaming mahogany furniture.It was a drawing-room, not quite so spacious and grand as the drawing-room at Gateshead Hall, but comfortable enough.I was struggling to make sense of a picture on the wall when a man walked in holding a candle.Another person followed closely behind. Walking in front was a tall lady with black hair, dark eyes, and a broad, pale forehead.Half of her body was wrapped in a large shawl, her face was serious, and her manner was dignified.

"The child is too young to come alone." She put the candle on the table as she spoke.She studied me carefully for a minute or two, then went on: "Better put her to bed right away, she looks exhausted. Are you tired?" she asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. "A little bit, miss." "Hungry too, sure. Give her something to eat before bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you've left your parents and come to school? My little girl?" I told her I have no parents.She asked me how long it had been since they had died, and how old I was, what my name was, and if I could read and write, and if I could do a little sewing.Then she touched my cheek lightly with her forefinger, and said she wished me to be a good boy, and sent me away with Miss Miller.

The lady I had just left was about twenty-nine years old, and the one I was going with looked a few years younger.The voice, appearance, and demeanor of the previous lady made a deep impression on me.Miss Miller is quite ordinary. Although her face looks overworked, her face is still ruddy.He was in a hurry, both in his steps and in his manner, like someone who always has a lot to do.She looked very much like an assistant teacher, and I later learned that she was an assistant teacher.She led me through one room after another and through one corridor after another in this large house with a very irregular layout.The places we walked were very still, a little desolately quiet.But as soon as he walked out from here, he heard a buzzing and noisy voice, and then came to a wide and long room.There were two large wooden tables at either end of the room, and a pair of candles were burning on each table.A group of girls of various ages, from nine, ten, to twenty, sat on stools around the table.From the dim light of the candles it seemed to me that there were innumerable numbers of them, though in reality there were no more than eighty.They were all dressed in strange brown woolen smocks and long linen aprons.It's study time now, and they are carefully studying the homework that will be checked tomorrow. The buzzing sound I heard just now is the sound they made while reciting in a low voice.

Miss Miller motioned me to sit on a stool near the door, and then going up the long room, cried: "Squad leaders, put away your textbooks and put them away!" The four tall girls got up from their big board tables, walked around the table, collected the books and put them aside.Miss Miller went on to order: "Squad leaders, go get the dinner tray!" Those tall girls went out and came back after a while, each carrying a big tray with a portion of food in it, but I don't know what it is.There is also a jug of water and a large cup in the center of each plate.The food was handed over one by one.The cups are shared, and whoever wants to drink can drink.When it was my turn, I took a few sips of water because I was feeling thirsty, but I didn't touch the food, the excitement and fatigue made me unable to eat anything.But, now that I see it, it was a thin oatcake; divided into many pieces. After dinner, Miss Miller said her prayers, and the girls from each class filed up the stairs two by two.By now I was so exhausted that I didn't even pay attention to what the bedroom looked like, I only knew it was similar to the classroom and very long.I must share a bed with Miss Miller tonight.She helped me undress.After lying down, I looked at the long rows of beds, each of which quickly accommodated two people.Ten minutes later, the only light went out, the surrounding was silent and dark, and I fell asleep. The night passed quickly, and I was too tired to even dream.I only woke up once to hear the wind howling and the rain pouring down, and to feel that Miss Miller had gone to sleep beside me.When I opened my eyes again, a loud bell was ringing.The girls were up and dressing, it was not yet dawn, and a rush candle or two was burning in the room.I also had to reluctantly get up.It was so cold that I was shivering and had difficulty getting dressed.When the washbasin was empty, I went to wash my face.The washbasin was not available anytime soon, for six girls shared one, and it stood on the washbasin stand in the middle of the room.The bell rang again, and everyone lined up downstairs, two by two, into the dark and cold classrooms dimly lit by candles.Inside, Miss Miller said the prayers, and then she cried out: "Split!" A few minutes of chaos ensued, and Miss Miller repeatedly yelled, "Quiet!" There were four empty chairs at a table, each with a book in his hand.On each table was a large book that looked like a Bible, just in front of the empty chair.There followed a pause of a few seconds, punctuated by the low, indistinct humming of the girls.Miss Miller walked from class to class, silencing the indistinct sound. A bell rang in the distance, and three ladies immediately entered the room and sat down at a table.Miss Miller sat down in the fourth empty chair.This location is closest to the door, surrounded by a group of youngest children.I, too, was called into this junior class and placed in the last place. The day's homework begins now.First the short prayer for the day was recited, then a few passages of scriptures, and then a few passages from the Bible, which lasted for an hour.After finishing these homework, the sky is bright.At this time, the tireless clock rang for the fourth time.The classes lined up again and went to another room to have breakfast.Seeing that there is something to eat, I am very happy!I've eaten so little the day before, and I'm starving now. The dining-room was a large, dimly lit room with a low ceiling, and there were several steaming pots on two long tables, but to my dismay the smell was not at all appetizing.I saw that this group of people who were destined to eat this kind of food expressed their dissatisfaction when they smelled the smell.From the front of the queue, among the tall girls in the first class, came a soft murmur: "Damn it! The porridge is burnt again!" "Quiet!" Suddenly someone shouted, it was not Miss Miller, but a senior teacher, a small dark man, well dressed, but with a gloomy face.She sat at the head of one long table, and at the other long table sat a more robust lady.I tried to find the lady I first met the night before, but I couldn't find her, she wasn't there.Miss Miller sat at the bottom of my table.At the bottom of the other table sat a strange old lady who looked like a foreigner. I later learned that she was a teacher of French.A long prayer of thanksgiving was said, and a hymn was sung, and then a servant brought tea to the teachers before breakfast began. I was so hungry that I was a little dizzy at the moment, so I didn't care about the taste, so I wolfed down a spoonful or two of my porridge.But when the intense hunger eased a little, I found that the pot of things in my hand was really disgusting.Burnt porridge is almost as unpalatable as rotten potatoes, and even when you are hungry, it will make it very unappetizing.With the slow movement of the spoons in the hands of the people, I saw each girl taste her food and try to swallow it, but most of them immediately gave up the effort.Breakfast was over, but no one had breakfast.We thanked God again for the gift we hadn't actually received, and sang another hymn before we left the dining room for the classroom.I was the last to leave, and as I walked past the table, I saw a teacher pick up a bowl of porridge and taste it.She also looked at the other teachers, and they also showed displeasure on their faces. One of them, the stronger one, said in a low voice: "Eating this kind of thing for people! It's too shameful!" It was another quarter of an hour before class started, and at this time there was a commotion in the classroom.During this time, it seemed that talking louder and more casually was permitted, and everyone made the most of their privilege.The whole conversation was centered around this breakfast, and everyone was yelling and yelling.Poor man!This is their only consolation.At this time, Miss Miller was the only teacher in the classroom, and a group of big girls surrounded her. They talked with solemn and angry gestures.I heard Mr. Brocklehurst's name mentioned in several speeches.Miss Miller shook her head disapprovingly, but made no effort to suppress the general outrage.No doubt she felt the same way about it herself. The clock in the room struck nine, and Miss Miller left her circle, stood in the middle of the room, and cried: "Quiet! Sit in your seat!" Discipline prevailed, and in less than five minutes, the chaotic crowd became orderly again, and the relative silence overwhelmed the chatter.At this time, several senior teachers were seated on time, but everyone seemed to be waiting for something.Eighty girls sat motionless on stools on either side of the room.They appeared to be a rather queer lot, with their hair combed straight back, with no curl in sight, all dressed in brown, with high collars and a narrow cravat round their necks, There was also a small burlap bag fastened to the front of the coat (somewhat like a Scotch purse), which served as a pocket for work; and each wore woolen stockings and earthen shoes with brass buckles.About twenty of the persons who wore it were older girls, or rather young women, for whom the attire was so inappropriate that even the prettiest girls would look grotesque in it. I still look at them, and occasionally at the teachers—none of them I really like.The stocky one was a bit vulgar, the dark one was savage, the foreigner was gruff and grotesque, and Miss Miller, poor thing!They looked purple, weather-beaten, and overworked—and just as I was looking from face to face, the whole school stood up at the same time, as if driven by the same spring. How is this going?I didn't hear anyone send the password, I'm just confused.Before I could understand, everyone in each class sat down again.However, everyone's eyes turned to one place at this time, and I followed suit, unexpectedly seeing the person who received me last night.She was standing by the fireplace at the end of the long room—for there was a fireplace at each end of the room.With a solemn expression, she silently looked at the girls sitting in two rows.Miss Miller stepped forward, probably asked her a question, and after getting her answer, she returned to her place and said loudly: "Squad leader, go get the globe!" When the squad leader went to carry out the instructions, the lady who gave the instructions walked slowly towards the other end of the room.I think that I must have a well-developed organ dedicated to admiration, because to this day, I still retain the admiration that I had when I followed her footsteps.It was broad daylight, and she looked slender, beautiful, and well-proportioned.A pair of brown eyes, with a kind expression in them, and the long eyelashes around them, which seem to be drawn out, further accentuate the whiteness of her broad forehead.His dark brown hair at the temples was combed into round curls according to the fashion of the time, before bare braids and long curly hair were in fashion.Her dress, also in the fashion of the day, was purple with Spanish trims of black velvet.A gold watch (watches were not as common then as they are now) gleamed at her belt.It is better for the readers to complete this portrait by themselves. You only need to add a handsome face, a slightly pale but clear complexion, and a dignified demeanor. Within the limits of the description, there is a more correct concept.Her full name was Maria Temple, which I later learned from her signature in the prayer book she told me to take to class. The Superintendent of Lowood (which was the lady's job) sat down at a table before which stood two globes.She called all the students in the first class to her side and began to teach them geography. The other classes were also called by other teachers to recite history, grammar, etc., which lasted for an hour.Words and arithmetic followed, and Miss Temple gave music lessons to the older girls.The time of each class is stipulated by the hour, and finally the clock finally struck twelve o'clock.The superintendent stood up. "I still have something to say to my classmates." She said. The clamor of the end of class had already begun, but as soon as she spoke, everyone immediately fell silent.She continued: "You couldn't eat your breakfast this morning. You must be hungry now. I have ordered you to serve a bread and cheese for dessert." The teachers all looked at her with a look of surprise. "I'm in charge of this matter." She added another sentence, as if explaining to them, and walked out of the classroom after speaking. Bread and cheese were brought in and distributed in a short time, and the whole school was in great joy and high spirits.Then, the order "To the garden!" was issued.Each wore a rough straw hat with a colored cloth band, and a gray tweed cloak.I was also dressed in the same way, and ran outside with the flow of people. The garden was a large ground surrounded by a high wall, which shut out the view from outside at all.On one side of the garden there is a covered cloister and several wide promenades surrounding a central area divided into dozens of small flower beds.These small flower beds are the gardens allocated to the students for planting.Every flower bed has an owner.In the season when the flowers are in full bloom, it is undoubtedly very beautiful here.But it was only the end of January, and everything took on the withered and withered look of winter.I stood there, looking around, shivering with cold.The weather is too cold for outdoor activities.Although there was no rain, the yellow mist made the surroundings dark.Due to the heavy rain yesterday, everything under my feet was still wet.The stronger girls were running around, still playing vigorous games, but a few girls with pale faces and thin bodies gathered together, looking for a warm hiding place in the corridor.Thick fog invaded their trembling bodies, and from time to time I heard a hollow cough among them. I haven't talked to anyone yet, and no one seems to notice me.I stood there alone, very lonely.But I'm used to this feeling of loneliness, so it doesn't bother me much.Leaning on a pillar in the cloister, I wrapped my gray cloak tightly around my body, trying to forget the chill outside and the unquenched hunger gnawing at me, and indulge myself in observation and thinking.My mind was too wandering and fragmented to be worth remembering.I hardly know where I am myself.Gateshead House and my past life have drifted away, drifting away to infinity, and everything in front of me is so strange, so vague, and as for the future, I have no way of guessing. I look around this Abbey looking up at the garden, and then at the house.It was a sprawling building, half dark and odd looking, the other half new.The new section contained classrooms and dormitories, with tiny latticed windows gleaming like a cathedral.There is a stone plaque on the top of the door with the following words engraved on it: Lowood School - This part was rebuilt in XXXX by Naomi Brockhurst of Brockhurst House in this county. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." - Matthew 5:16. I've read this passage over and over again and always feel that it has some meaning, but I can't quite understand what it is.I was trying to figure out the meaning of the word "Yishu", trying to figure out the relationship between the previous passage and the following quotation from the Bible. At this moment, a cough sounded from behind me, and I couldn't help but turn my head. go.I saw a girl sitting on a nearby stone bench, burying her head in a book, seemingly lost in thought.From where I stood I could see the title of the book in her hand, La Serras.I thought the title of the book was weird, so it aroused my interest.When she was turning the pages of the book, she just looked up, and I asked her directly: "Is your book interesting?" I was already planning to ask her to lend me the book someday. "I like it very much." She hesitated for a second or two, looked me over, and answered. "What's in it?" I asked, and I just don't know where I got the courage to strike up a conversation with a stranger like this, which is contrary to my nature and habits.But I think, it must be her concentrated expression on reading that touched a heartstring somewhere in me and resonated with me.Because I also love to read books, even though they are all shallow and childish.A really serious and informative book that I have yet to digest or understand. "You can read it." The girl replied, handing me the book. I took the book and looked at it. After flipping through it briefly, I felt that the content of the book was not as attractive as the title."Rasselas" seemed too dull for my shallow taste.I could see neither fairies nor monsters, and there seemed to be nothing rich and colorful on the densely printed pages.I handed the book back to her, and she took it silently, without saying anything, and was about to immerse herself in the book just like before, when I interrupted her again: "Can you tell me what the words on the stone plaque above the door mean? What is Lowood College?" "It's the house you've come to live in." "Then why is it called Yijuk? Is it different from other schools?" "It's a semi-charity school, and you, me, and everyone else are charity kids. You're an orphan, I suppose. Is your father or your mother dead?" "They all died before I could remember." "Yes, the girls here either lost their parents, or their parents died, so this place is called Yishu, and it raises orphans." "We don't all have to pay? Are they feeding us for nothing?" "We shall pay, or our relatives and friends shall pay, fifteen pounds a year each." "Then why do they still call us charity school kids?" "Because fifteen pounds is not enough to pay board and tuition fees, and the shortfall is made up by donations." "Who will donate?" "The good ladies and gentlemen who live in the neighborhood and in London." "Who is Naomi Brocklehurst?" "That's what the stone plaque says. It's the lady who built this part of the new house. Everything here is supervised and managed by her son." "why?" "Because he is the treasurer and director of the institution." "So the house doesn't belong to the tall lady with the watch who said she'd give us bread and cheese?" "Miss Temple? Oh no! I hope it's hers. She's responsible for everything she does. Mr. Brocklehurst is responsible for all our food and clothing." bought." "Does he live here?" "No—in a big house two miles from here." "Is he a nice guy?" "He was a priest and is said to have done many good things." "Did you say the tall lady was called Miss Temple?" "yes." "What are the names of the other teachers?" "The red-cheeked one is called Miss Smith, and she does the work and cuts it herself—for we make everything ourselves, whether it's a smock or a coat. The little black-haired one is Smith Miss Catcher, who teaches history and grammar, and is also responsible for the recitations of the second class. In a shawl, with a handkerchief tied around her waist with a yellow ribbon, is Madame Biello. She is from Lille, France, Teach French." "Do you like these teachers?" "Quite like." "Do you like that little black man, and that... what lady? I can't pronounce that name you say." "Miss Scatcherd has a quick temper—you'll have to be careful not to offend her. Mrs. Viello is not a bad person." "But Miss Temple is the best, isn't it?" "Miss Temple is indeed very good and very clever, and she is better than the others, because she knows a lot more than others." "Have you been here long?" "Two years." "Are you an orphan?" "My mother passed away." "Are you happy here?" "You asked too many questions, and I answered enough this time. I'm going to read a book now." However, at this moment, the bell for dinner rang, and everyone returned to the house again.The smell that now permeates the dining-room is no more appetizing than the one our noses had experienced at breakfast.The food was served in two large tin buckets, steaming with a smell of stinky fat.I saw that the mess was a stew of rotten potatoes and rotten slices of meat.Each student gets a plate, which is quite a lot.I tried to eat as much as possible, but I wondered in my heart, is this the same for every meal? After eating, we immediately came to the classroom and resumed class until five o'clock. The only incident of note that afternoon was that the girl with whom I had spoken in the corridor was sent out of History by Miss Scatcherd to stand in the middle of the great room.I find it very humiliating to be punished like this, especially for a girl of her age--she looks thirteen, or more.I expected her to be very distressed and ashamed, but to my surprise, she neither wept nor blushed, but stood calmly in full view, though her face was tense. "How could she have endured it so calmly and so tenaciously?" I asked myself. "If I were in her position, I would have longed for a hole in the ground for me to slip through. She looked as though she were thinking Thinking of something beyond her punishment, beyond her situation, thinking of something that is not around her, not in front of her eyes. I have heard of daydreaming—is she daydreaming now? The two of them staring at the ground, but I'm sure she's blind - her eyes seem to be looking inward, towards the depths of her own mind. I believe she's looking at something in her memory, not something that's actually there in front of her eyes I really can't figure out what kind of girl she is--a good girl or a bad girl?" Shortly after five in the afternoon we had another meal, a small cup of coffee and half a slice of black bread.I wolfed down the bread and drank the coffee with relish.But I wish I could have another one like this—I'm still starving.Half an hour of entertainment after dinner, then study, then that glass of water and that oatcake, and finally prayer, and bed.This was my first day at Lowood.