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 LEARNING
AND TEACHING
BRITISH VALUES
Policies and
Perspectives on
British Identities
Sadia Habib
Learning and Teaching British Values
 Sadia Habib

Learning
and Teaching
British Values
Policies and Perspectives on British Identities
Sadia Habib
Manchester, UK

ISBN 978-3-319-60380-3 ISBN 978-3-319-60381-0 (eBook)

DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-60381-0

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017949200

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2018

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights
of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction
on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and
retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology
now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and
information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication.
Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied,
with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have
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maps and institutional affiliations.

Cover illustration: © Harvey Loake

Printed on acid-free paper

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

The registered company is Springer International Publishing AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
 To my nieces—Hannah and Inayat—and my husband’s
nieces—Madihah, Samihah and Adilah—for taking great interest in my
research, asking pertinent critical questions and sharing their stories.
To the trainee teachers, Art students and teachers who granted me the
privilege of listening to and learning from their narratives.
To the young people and teachers of multicultural Britain, keep on
critically reflecting and seeking social justice.
 Foreword

It was a pleasure to be invited to write the foreword for this book. I had
the great privilege of reading and examining Sadia’s doctoral thesis ana-
lysing young people’s constructions of British identity. The visual depic-
tions were beautiful, compelling and extremely interesting. The analysis
of the artwork and the narratives of Sadia’s young student participants
and that of their teachers exquisitely illuminated the life and identity con-
struction of young Londoners. This book, and the thesis it is based upon,
make for compelling reading. This book is very timely and makes an orig-
inal contribution to the field of social justice and equality in particular
to the ongoing debate of how Britishness is perceived by teachers and
young people. There is no doubt that more work, like this, is required
to extend our knowledge of how young people perceive their identities;
particularly so after the imposition of the duty to teach “Fundamental
British Values” (FBV) in schools by teachers who are themselves unsure
about the concept of Britishness but very aware of the dangers of racism
and xenophobia that may be instigated through the study of Britishness. I
applaud Sadia for making such a contribution to the field and for privileg-
ing the narratives of young people and their interpretations of Britishness.
This book is based on two very interesting empirical studies. The
recent one is related to student teachers at a university in London and
their reflections on the requirement to teach FBV. The earlier study,
which generated data from artwork on the theme of Britishness followed
by interviews with young people and their Art teachers, was conducted
in a South-East London secondary school before the mandate to teach

vii
viii Foreword

British values. The young people’s narratives on their sense of belong-

ing and Britishness make fascinating reading. Sadia has effectively inte-
grated the academic literature related to race, class, identity and nation
as well as critical pedagogy, to foreground how this teaching approach
can be utilised to draw out how pre-service and in-service teachers and
the young people they have the privilege to teach construct Britishness.
The art-based ethnographic study explored the complexities of teaching
and learning Britishness, and how identity and belonging are articulated
by young people reflecting their racialised, classed and localised construc-
tions of identity. In her analysis of the empirical data, Sadia utilises the
theoretical construct of critical pedagogy and race to create a picture of
how the teachers and their students were “liberated” through the use of
critical pedagogy and how the young students were given space to exer-
cise their agency to express their identity as young Britons through art.
The young pupils’ notions of Britishness are multi-layered, fluid and
still under development as they negotiate family and cultural heritage,
which they position alongside their belonging as Londoners. The analy-
sis and interpretation of the data are compared to existing theories to
demonstrate the lived experience of being young and British in twenty-
first-century London. The young people’s depictions of Britishness
in their artwork are presented by the author in a careful, sensitive and
ethical manner. Her empathy with her participants and her openness to
share her own feelings about her British identity enabled the students
to validate their own sense of Britishness. The later chapters identify the
key factors that have shaped the young participants’ perceptions of their
British identity, which contrasts with the confusion and scepticism of the
pre-service teachers towards the teaching of FBV in the earlier chapter.
This book adeptly examines the theoretical notions of Britishness and
contrasts it to the bygone debates associated with assimilation, multicul-
turalism and integration. The author eloquently argues, with the support
of an extensive and robust theoretical framework that (i) the imposition
of the duty on teachers to “not undermine fundamental British values”
within the Teachers’ Standards Department for Education (2011) in
England; (ii) the subsequent adaptation of the Ofsted Framework for
inspection, which specifies that if a school does not teach FBV, it can
be placed in special measures; (iii) placed alongside the mandate to
teach FBV within the curriculum particularly in relation to Spiritual,
Social Moral and Cultural Education, leave teachers no options, thereby
 Foreword ix

limiting their ability to exercise their professionalism. The Government’s

counter-terrorism strategy Prevent (HM Government 2011) defines an
extremist as someone who voices opposition to or acts to oppose “FBV”.
So the phrase has migrated from counter-terrorism legislation to the
Teachers’ Standards and is now governing their personal and professional
conducts in relation to the curriculum, and thereby classrooms.
This is why critical pedagogies offer a means to teachers and their stu-
dents to engage with a contentious topic through the medium of art. In
the earlier chapter, Sadia’s reflective student teachers critique the notion
of FBV highlighting the contradictions inherent between the rhetoric
of values such as liberty and tolerance and how they play out in real-
ity. As one young teacher in training notes it is “tolerance in theory but
not in practice”. The “insidious imposition of a political securitization
agenda, onto an unsuspecting profession and pupil population” (Lander
2016: 274) through policy is palpable in the discomfort expressed by
student teachers as they try to reconcile notions of contemporary mul-
ticultural Britain with those of colonialism and imperialism associated
with Britain’s past and the common tropes used to depict Britishness
such as the Tower of London, Beefeaters and the monarchy. The stu-
dent teachers, Sadia shows, considered the notion of Britishness as divi-
sive, exclusionary and wholly inappropriate for preparation to live in a
diverse multicultural country. Sadia notes that these teachers were from a
range of ethnic and cultural backgrounds and they were learning to teach
in multicultural London schools. She is mindful that not all pre-service
or in-service teachers would critique the teaching of Britishness in the
same vein, consciously or dysconsciously (King 2004) opting to assert
the assimilationist thrust underpinning the teaching of Britishness.
Within Sadia’s book, the artwork undertaken by the young school
students was considered “meaningful, healing, therapeutic” and cathar-
tic, but also affirming. The Art teachers, whose classes formed the
research site for the second empirical study, reflected on their own iden-
tities to in turn support their young students’ explorations of identity. It
was interesting to read how some young people from the White major-
ity group articulated how they owned Britishness thus rooting it in a
White identity. One young man, Joe, was a fervent adherent to White
Britishness and its attendant privileges. While one young White woman
depicted her identity through fashion labels, dress and the association of
these signifiers with the derogatory label of “chav”, a term of derision
x Foreword

used for White working-class people. In her artwork and her narrative,
Ellie expresses her resentment against such a label positioning her in class
terms as the abject “Other”. This exclusionary discourse affects her sense
of self and ascribes her sense of belonging to her locality and class.
In this way, Sadia’s work shows how the notion of Britishness while
associated with being White is not only a raced, but also a “class situ-
ated” notion. Joe and his articulation of Britishness continue to worry
me long after reading the thesis and the manuscript of this book. Some
of his utterances are worrying and racist, for example, he says, “I con-
sider White people as like the first race…”. The expression of his iden-
tity underscores the power of whiteness and in parts; his expressions of
identity are based on White supremacy. For example, Joe felt it is only
the Black and minority ethnic students who have to work to develop
their Britishness when he does not really consider them to be truly
British indicates there is, in his mind, and perhaps others, a hierarchy
of Britishness where those who are White occupy the highest position
in this hierarchy or supremacist framework. The book highlights that
the study of identity might furnish students like Joe with a stage for his
racist whiteness, particularly if it took place in school, and if teachers and
student teachers are not properly trained to deal with racism and xeno-
phobia.
The Black minority ethnic young people in the study expressed their
identity and feelings of belonging in terms of their cultural heritage as
well as a local sense of belonging. Their articulations of being British
alluded to hyphenated identities and they saw little conflict between the
two or more ethnic and cultural aspects of their hybrid British identity.
They expressed pride in each facet of their British identity refusing to
be subjugated by the hegemonic notion of a White British identity. One
young woman, Kadisha, and her strident challenge to Joe have left an
inedible impression. Her challenge of Joe’s White supremacist views is an
example, as Sadia points out of “talking-back”, in the example provided
Kadisha metaphorically “puts Joe in his place” by telling him that we all
originated from Africa and didn’t he know that? Thus, pointing out the
baselessness of his supremacist views.
Kadisha’s courage to do this is indeed an example of her multicul-
tural Britishness borne, no doubt, from the struggles to mediate her
sense of belonging to the nation and to her ethnic, cultural and religious
identities, which she manages to negotiate everyday even when she is
 Foreword xi

positioned as an outsider by her classmate. Her identity, and that of oth-

ers, stems from who they say they are and also in terms of what they do
in their everyday lives. The chapters examining young people’s narratives
of their identity in relation to Britishness are simultaneously fascinating
and yet worrying given the current geopolitical climate following the rise
of racism as a result of the EU Referendum, the election of Trump as
President of the USA and the subsequent emboldening of the political
Right and Far Right.
There are clear implications of this study for teachers, teacher train-
ing and schools with respect to the important task of preparing young
citizens to live in and belong to multicultural Britain. It is imperative as
Sadia argues so well to educate teachers not only to understand “race”,
class and identity formation but also to educate their students to engage
critically with these concepts to develop a secure sense of self, a sense of
belonging to Britain and to have pride in asserting their Britishness as
equal citizens of Britain regardless of their skin colour, class or religion.
Sadia urges teachers to resist reproducing notions of Britishness based
on White identities, which would merely serve to re-inscribe the “notion
of insider-outsider citizen” (Lander 2016: 275), or might inadvertently
endorse “a stratification of citizenship into those who really belong,
namely the indigenous majority; those who can belong namely those of
minority ethnic heritage who have assimilated or integrated and those
who really don’t quite belong, or those we tolerate up to a point, namely
the Muslim ‘Other’” (Lander 2016: 275).
This important, timely and significant book should be compulsory
reading on all teacher education programme reading lists. All teachers
who are struggling to “teach” British values in their classroom need to
engage with this book, to embrace the messages the young people are
communicating and then to have the professional courage to engage
with the philosophy and methodologies of critical pedagogy to ensure
young people who will be citizens of the future develop a secure sense of
belonging to, and pride in, an inclusive multicultural Britain.

Vini Lander
Professor in Education
Edge Hill University
Ormskirk, Lancashire, UK
xii Foreword

References
HM GOVERNMENT. 2011. Prevent Strategy.
King, J.E. 1991. Dysconscious Racism: Ideology, Identity, and the Miseducation
of Teachers. Journal of Negro Education 60: 133–146.
Lander, V. 2016. Introduction to Fundamental British Values. Journal of
Education for Teaching 42: 274–279.
 Acknowledgements

This book came to be because of the unwavering support of my parents,

Abdul and Zubaida Bari, my sister and brother, Asifa and Tayyub and my
husband Ghulam, as well as my faith in God Almighty.
I am indebted to my doctoral supervisors Vicky Macleroy and Anna
Carlile. They are amazing critical pedagogues. I must also thank col-
leagues at Goldsmiths, including Charmian Kenner and Chris Kearney
(my supervisors initially before they retired) as well as Carrie Paechter,
Rosalyn George, Clare Kelly, Paul Dash, Julia Hope, Sheryl Clark and
Amanda Kipling. And of course my examiners—Vini Lander and Les
Back—who offered constructive advice and supported and challenged
me to be bolder.
My academic identity has been enriched by advice from friends or col-
leagues: Garth Stahl, Shazad Amin, Heather Mendick, Gwen Redmond,
Gemma Casserly, Jessica Elizabeth Peters, Tait Coles, Ian Roberts, Zalan
Alam, Shamim Miah, Aqsa Dar, Bill Bolloten, Debbie Epstein, Michaela
Benson and Mark Carrigan; and by technological help from Naadir (my
brother in law), Mark Leigh Edmondson and Shaf Choudry.

xiii
 Contents

1 Introduction 1

2 Researching Education in Multicultural London 29

3 The Pedagogical Is Political 39

4 Trainee Teachers “Unravel, Criticise and Re-imagine”

British Values 51

5 Learning and Teaching About Britishness 79

6 Students and Teachers Need Critical Pedagogy 101

7 Local and Global Belongings 125

8 Conclusions and Recommendations 149

Bibliography 165

Index 167

xv
 CHAPTER 1

Introduction

Abstract This chapter introduces background information about schools,

teachers and students increasingly being required to develop knowledge
and understanding of Britishness and Fundamental British Values (FBV).
Since 2007, politicians have offered hegemonic ideas about the meanings
of Britishness and called upon the teaching and learning of Britishness
as necessary for social cohesion. This endorsement of national identity
has in recent years evolved into the Fundamental British Values (FBV)
duty where schools have now been placed in a position where they must
actively promote FBV. This chapter also examines how identity, national
identity and nation are defined in the literature, as well as the intersections
of multicultural and White Britishness.

Keywords Britishness · Fundamental British values · Multiculturalism

Identity · Nation

This chapter introduces background information about schools, teach-

ers and students increasingly being required to develop knowledge and
understanding of Britishness and Fundamental British Values (FBV).
Since 2007 politicians have offered hegemonic ideas about the meanings
of Britishness and called upon the teaching and learning of Britishness
as necessary for social cohesion. This endorsement of national iden-
tity has in recent years evolved into the FBV duty where schools have
now been placed in a position where they must actively promote FBV.

© The Author(s) 2018 1

S. Habib, Learning and Teaching British Values,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-60381-0_1
2 S. Habib

The chapter also examines how identity, national identity and nation are
defined in the literature, as well as the intersections of multicultural and
White Britishness.

Teaching Britishness and Fundamental British Values

In the past, perhaps governments may have discouraged citizenship
education, preferring docile subjects to radical citizens who challenge
the status quo (Heater 2001; Andrews and Mycock 2008), but today
critically examining and embracing new conceptions of belongings and
identities is becoming more and more necessary. Educationalists witness
Britishness and British values debated in popular, academic and politi-
cal spheres (House of Lords 2008; Brunel University 2016) “at unprec-
edented levels” (Ward 2009: 3). This is a contrast to decades before
when there was “relatively little public debate about the meaning of
Britishness” (Carrington and Short 1995: 221) when political rhetoric
seemed to doggedly cling onto defence of an exclusive White Britishness
(Ward 2004). Yet paradoxically, the government reacted angrily when
The Parekh Report suggested that symbols of Englishness or Britishness
represented Whiteness (Gilroy 2004), denying the intersections of
Britishness, Whiteness and racism.
Emphasising the reasons it is important to listen to stories about
Britishness, in this book, I report on the outcomes of employing a criti-
cal pedagogy framework when exploring identities, as well as on the
expectations and experiences of trainee teachers, and young people
and their Art teachers when it comes to learning and teaching about
Britishness. With its non-hierarchical and non-elitist approach, critical
pedagogy empowers teachers and students to collaborate; they can work
together to create a schooling space that emboldens students’ voices,
stimulates dialogue and recommends reflection and action to attain goals
of social justice. Education should strive to seek “the opening up of pos-
sibilities through the exploration of alternative understandings, the crit-
ical application of evidence and argument and the development of the
skills and dispositions necessary to act on the possibilities” (Sears and
Hughes 2006: 4). This book will therefore describe how education can
promote the pedagogy of possibility through advocating the alternative
and championing the critical.
In this chapter, I introduce the backdrop against which schools, teach-
ers and students are required to develop knowledge and understanding
 1 INTRODUCTION 3

of FBV. By writing this book, I aim to “make hegemonic forms of sub-

jectivity and identity strange” by “problematizing and relativizing”
(Weedon 2004: 4) concepts of Britishness and FBV, while remaining
mindful of race, nation and ethnicity as “constructed (not inherited)
categories, shaped by political interests exploiting social antagonisms”
(Cohen 1995: 2). “Melancholic nostalgia” seeps into contemporary dis-
courses of Britishness harking back “for a monochrome Britishness that
probably never existed” (Gidley 2014: n.p.). To counter this mono-
chrome and melancholic depiction of a mythical Britishness of the past
that has seeped into our national imaginary, this book moves forwards
by including the voices of ethnic minority and White working-class com-
munities as they seek to rethink and redefine contemporary (national)
belongings and identities. Rather than teaching students about politi-
cised and hegemonic versions of Britishness, I draw upon the ways teach-
ers can choose to galvanise young people to speak boldly about what it
means to be British. This book addresses the ways (trainee) teachers are
working out how they might best incorporate exploration of identities
in their lessons. Teachers and students working together can counteract
“the power of the rhetoric of ‘Britishness’” (Andrews and Mycock 2008:
143) for, as this book substantiates, there is no singular way to experi-
ence Britishness.
Chapter 2 outlines features of educational, urban and critical ethnog-
raphy, arts-based educational research (ABER), as well as critical race
methodology (CRM) and critical pedagogy which I believe are necessary
in enabling participant voice and empowerment, thereby advancing social
justice and social change. Chapter 3 explains the potential of critical ped-
agogies for teachers and students wanting to explore identities, social
experiences and belongings. Drawing upon empirical research conducted
with trainee teachers, and school students and their teachers, Chaps. 4–7
detail how Britishness and FBV teaching are perceived by trainee teachers
and experienced by young people and their Art teachers. I aim to pre-
sent rarely heard voices (Gregory 2005; Smyth and McInerney 2013) on
Britishness and FBV. While we are frequently reminded of government
policy and perspectives on FBV, we urgently need empirical evidence
about the experiences and views of those most immersed in schooling at
the classroom level in their everyday lives: teachers, trainee teachers and
students.
Chapter 4 describes trainee teachers’ experiences of FBV, who
rejecting reification and homogeneity, view FBV as undefined and
­
4 S. Habib

perplexing. Evident in the trainee teacher responses to teaching FBV are

complex notions about identities. Wary of the problematic “ideologi-
cal aura attached to nationhood” (Billig 1995: 4), they think of identity
as never stagnant or stationary but in a state of rapid flux (Hall 1992;
May 1999). Worryingly, dialogue and debate about FBV are not encour-
aged among teachers, nor is there sufficient training on how to tackle
the jingoistic or indoctrinating nature of FBV policies and practices
(Elton-Chalcraft et al. 2017). A big challenge for schools and teacher
education institutions is how to respond to trainee teachers and exist-
ing classroom teachers consistently reporting that they are inadequately
guided or trained to teach young people about multiculturalism and
social inequalities.
Chapters 5, 6 and 7 reveal the benefits of seeking reflections about
identities that are meaningful, open and patient, and conducted through
structured classroom activities. I proposed a project on Britishness to
the Head of the Art department at a South East London school, and
we decided there would be educational, moral, cultural and social value
in exploring Britishness through GCSE1 coursework. The artwork
­produced by students would contribute to their final GCSE grade, giv-
ing the project gravity and significance.2 Chapter 7 lays bare some of
the young Londoner’s conceptions of Britishness as they deliberate over
what it means to be British; I particularly draw upon paired interviews
conducted with students Chris, Ellie, Kadisha and Joe.3 The concluding
chapter argues for the importance of further research on everyday lived
experiences of Britishness, as well as on learning about teaching about
localised and globalised British identities.

Teaching Britishness: Policy, Process and Practice

Teaching Britishness 2007–2010

The research detailed in Chaps. 5–7 was conducted during a time
when the Labour government was buoyant about the possibilities of
Britishness teaching in schools, especially as a solution to social problems
(Garner 2007; BBC News 2007; Ajegbo et al. 2007). Complexities and
uncertainties surrounding notions of immigration, identity, multicul-
turalism and the Union’s future were seen as resolvable by promoting
Britishness in civic, social and educational spaces (Andrews and Mycock
2008). The terror attacks in the USA on 11 September 2001, and in
 1 INTRODUCTION 5

London in July 2005 amplified debates about Britishness (Kiwan 2012).

The British people would witness senior politicians “stress the impor-
tance of education in uniting the nation” (Osler 2008: 11). Gordon
Brown, even before he was Prime Minister, appealed to Britons to be
patriotic (Golmohamad 2009), as he sought to position Britishness “at
the top of the public agenda” (Parekh 2008: 69), defining Britishness as
an issue needing addressing in policy. His conception of British values,
though, was “tolerance, fairness and enterprise, none of which is unique
to the country” (Parekh 2008: 69).
An underlying uneasiness about hegemonic attempts to impose an
unwelcome patriotic—or even racist—agenda on schools troubled me. I
was becoming aware of the political discourses of Britishness as “officially
constructed patriotism” by the powerful elite (Colley 1992: 145), at a time
when the President of the National Union of Teachers critiqued politi-
cians for reinforcing racist rhetoric by ordering schools to teach Britishness
(Eason 2007). During that time the Ajegbo Report (2007) came
about because government combined a “need to counter terrorist activ-
ity and the strengthening of national identity and British values through
the curriculum” (Osler 2015: 7). By 2009, though, the “wave of patriotic
rhetoric” from politicians calling for Britishness to be promoted in schools
and society had “begun to break on the shores of public indifference”
(Hand and Pearce 2009: 464). Britishness sometimes becomes fashion-
able, while other times it is presented by politicians as mandatory—thus,
rising, falling and rising again in public rhetoric and political ideologies.
The zeal for national identity might fade into the background until the
next politician arrives to propose new policies, as happened when the new
­government came into power in 2010.

Fundamental British Values 2011–2015

After the Coalition government of 2010 came into power,4 debates
about immigration, place and national identities continued to amplify.
Communities Secretary, Eric Pickles, demanded the end of “state-­
sponsored multiculturalism”, crusading to popularise “British Values” by
bolstering up a vision of Christianity and the English language as core
to British identity (Walford 2012; Communities and Local Government
2012; Grayson 2012). In changes to teacher education, the “Teachers’
Standards” enjoined teachers not to undermine fundamental British val-
ues (Department for Education 2011), while Ofsted has gone further by
6 S. Habib

encouraging school management to “actively” promote Fundamental

British Values (FBV), not just to undermine FBV (Elton-Chalcraft et al.
2017). Such directives raise obvious questions about how teachers and
school managers might respond to policies that ratify neoliberal regula-
tion of teachers both as professionals and as citizens.
In 2014, the Coalition government announced schools in England
were expected—in line with Spiritual, Moral, Social and Cultural
(SMSC) education—to actively promote FBV (Easton 2014), defined
as “democracy, the rule of law, individual liberty and mutual respect
and tolerance of those with different faiths and beliefs” (Department
for Education 2014). It is important to critically assess political moti-
vations concerning educational policies, for example when it comes to
FBV, Osler (2008: 12) argues that “in commissioning the Ajegbo report,
the government made a direct link between the need to counter terror-
ist activity and to strengthen national identity and British values through
the curriculum”. The FBV guidance (HM Government 2015) origi-
nates from unexpected and controversial beginnings. It does not root
from education policy, but from Home Office documents on “extrem-
ism” (Richardson 2015), where extremism is defined by the govern-
ment as “vocal or active opposition to fundamental British values…”
(HM Government 2015: 2). Britishness discourses might initially have
emerged from the political elite’s anxieties about Scotland and Wales
seeking independence, but by 2011 “unintegrated” ethnic minorities—
particularly Muslims—became the target of FBV policies (Maylor 2016).
The ways teachers are appraised on this professional duty not to
undermine FBV is undoubtedly complicated by the relationship between
FBV and Counter Terrorism and Security (Revell and Bryan 2016).
Teacher educators are concerned about the profession becoming
increasingly politicised, with teachers coerced into monitoring students
(Elton-Chalcraft et al. 2017). Teachers’ Standards therefore come to be
perceived as political tools serving to promote government approved ide-
ologies of Britishness (Maylor 2016), and administering government’s
hard-line approach: “We are saying it isn’t enough simply to respect
these values in schools – we’re saying that teachers should actively pro-
mote them. They’re not optional; they’re the core of what it is to live in
Britain” (Cameron 2014). Schools are warned they might “face action if
they fail to promote ‘British Values’”, and that they are “expected to con-
front pupils, parents or school staff that express intolerant or extremist
views” (The Yorkshire Post 2014). Questions continue to arise—and will
 1 INTRODUCTION 7

keep on emerging—about who defines “British Values”, and whether

religiously, ethnically and culturally diverse Britons are permitted and
welcome to contribute to the conversation on British belongings and
identities (Bragg 2006; Berkeley 2011; Miah 2015; Hoque 2015).

Multicultural British Identities

Identity and Belonging

Identity, a relatively new concept, concerning who we are and what
defines or distinguishes us as individuals (Parekh 2000a), has become
a key conceptual lens employed by academics (Solomos 2001; Sarup
2005). Perceived as important for being human and for our sense of
agency (Cokley 2002), identity is a broad concept with distinctive con-
notations (Brubaker and Cooper 2000; Deaux 2001). The basic tenets
consist of belonging, commonalities and differences (Solomos 2001),
and identity is often “defined in a relation of difference to what it is
not”(Weedon 2004: 19). Belonging refers to acceptance and recognition
within a group or society. Its multiple layers are illustrated by “the inter-
play of the subjective self, collective agency and structural positioning”,
while its multiple facets mean we can “belong to a community, a locality
or a nation”, but also experience “a transnational sense of belonging”
(Vasta 2013: 198). Community concerns the right to feel you belong
within the boundaries of the community, that you matter and make a
difference in that space, and your needs are fulfilled while you share
emotional experiences with other community members (McMillan and
Chavis 1986).
Within debates about (national) identities, referring to multiple iden-
tities is now the norm (Hussain and Bagguley 2005), where “com-
plex affiliations, meaningful attachments and multiple allegiances to
issues, people, places and traditions that lie beyond the boundaries of
their resident nation-state” are recognised and valued (Vertovec and
Cohen 2002: 2). Within communities and nations, identity “is always
being reconstituted in a process of becoming and by virtue of location
in social, material, temporal and spatial contexts” (Edensor 2002: 29).
Jacobson (1997) and Vadher and Barrett (2009) present fluid, con-
text-dependent multiple positionings as the norm for young Britons.
Following Baumann (1996), Vadher and Barrett (2009: 443) describe
national identification as a “dynamic process through which the values,
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pleasant stir, and the insects began to chirp in low tones as if not
quite sure the night was coming.
“What a delightful day! Though I have not done half the things that
I meant to,” said Miss Lucy as they were nearing home. “We were to
look over those Russian views this afternoon, and I was to show you
my sketches. It is all Winthrop’s fault. We shall have to take the day
over again, Fanny.”
“I cannot say that I am sorry I came, having a high regard for the
truth. But then I am going; and the world will still last;” he returned.
“That must be our comfort.”
“I wish you and your sister would come over soon, not merely to
tea, but to spend a good long afternoon;” said Miss Churchill. “And I
have a basket of flowers to send home with you.”
“Does Miss Endicott go alone?” Winthrop asked.
“In the carriage—unless you should have the politeness to
accompany her,” answered Miss Churchill rather inconsequently.
“With pleasure—if Aunt Lucy can spare me.”
“I shall march straight to bed, you saucy boy.”
The ladies were helped out. Fanny thought she had better keep
right on. Miss Churchill brought a great basket of fragrance and
beauty, and said she would send the parcel over the next morning,
“that is if you are quite sure that you will not feel patronized,” she
whispered.
“No,” returned Fan frankly. “Rose and I will be most grateful.”
Lucy kissed her good by. Miss Churchill’s farewell was a little more
formal, but full of sweet cordiality. The coachman sprang up in his
seat and turned the horses slowly.
Mr. Churchill assisted Lucy up the steps. “What a pretty behaved
girl,” he said. “She is bright and pleasant without being bold or
underbred. And she enjoys everything so thoroughly.”
 “She makes one feel young again. She fairly gives of her own
abundant youth.”
In the meanwhile the two rode home together. There was no
moon, but the stars were out by thousands, shining in all their glory.
They talked of the beauty of the night, of the improvements in the
town, and he asked what was going on in the way of entertainment.
This was how Fan came to mention the picnic, and Mr. Ogden was
interested in it immediately.
Nelly and the elders were sitting in the wide, airy hall with the lamp
in the back part, making a golden twilight within. Fan set her flowers
in the midst, and all the air was sweet.
Such a lovely day as it had been! The talk and visiting, the dinner
and tea, the two rides,—Miss Churchill and Miss Lucy—the kindly
messages to mamma,—the invitation to tea, and best of all, the
thought about papa’s sermon. Fan had a way of bringing something
home from every place for every body. It was as good as going
yourself.
“So papa, dear, it wasn’t my fascination altogether, but a little
pinch of your good seed. It springs up occasionally where you do not
expect it. And now tell me what you have been doing?”
Our day had proved one of the unsatisfactory days.
Mamma had gone out in the morning to make some calls, and
found Mrs. Day’s baby very sick. Edith started from her nap in
affright, and while I went down to soothe her, Stuart had tormented
my patient into a fit of passion, so that he had a headache and could
eat no dinner. Then there had been a steady stream of visitors all the
afternoon.
“I didn’t get much of your trimming done,” I said to Fan, “but the
picnic is not until Tuesday.”
“And I can work like a Trojan to-morrow. Oh! mamma and Rose,
there is something else—I hope you will think I have acted rightly
about it.”
Then followed an account of the gift.
 “I do not see how you could well have done differently. Miss
Churchill was very kind and delicate.”
“Fan,” exclaimed papa as if waking out of a dream—“I think I do
see the good seed. But some things are best to let grow by
themselves. If you poke about the roots and snip off and tie up, you
don’t get half the bloom and beauty. People like the Churchills might
bring forth so much fruit. Perhaps it will come. The same God who
made the gourd, made the century plant. Mother, couldn’t we have a
quiet little hymn?”
It was a trick he had when there was any special thing on his
mind. Mamma’s soft playing seemed to smooth out the tangles.
We sang with her, and then kissed each other good night.
The next day was ever so much better. Mamma had talked to both
of the boys, and I think Louis did try to be patient and pleasant. Fan
came in and helped entertain him while we both sewed. The dresses
were sent with a note from Miss Churchill, and mamma thought them
extremely pretty. We finished Fan’s pique all but the button holes, by
night.
Just after tea Mrs. Day sent over. Mamma answered the summons
and staid until ten, then she came home to tell us that the poor little
life had gone out here, to blossom brighter elsewhere. She had
washed it and dressed it for the last time, with her tender hands.
Mrs. Downs had come to stay all night, for Mrs. Day was in violent
hysterics.
Early Sunday morning the baby was buried. Three little graves in a
row, and only Betty and Jem left. I stopped in Church just a moment
to give thanks on my knees that our little flock were all alive and well.
“I wonder how you can take such an interest in everybody?” Louis
said as I sat with him awhile that evening. “In one way your father
and mother have a duty towards all in the parish, but—I don’t know
as I can quite explain,—you seem to make their troubles and their
pleasures your very own. And some of the people must be—very
common, and quite ignorant—excuse me, but it is so all over the
world.”
 “Isn’t that the secret of true sympathy? If you were in great sorrow
and went to a friend, would you not like to have the comfort adapted
to your nature, and wants? The other would be asking for bread and
receiving a stone.”
“It is very good of course, really noble. But it would fret me to do
favors for people who did not interest me one bit. Now I can
understand your sister’s enjoying her day at the Churchills, even if
she was asked partly to entertain an invalid. They were refined,
agreeable people. But that she should give up going to ride with Miss
Fairlie yesterday afternoon, to make a bonnet for that woman who
lost her baby, and who wasn’t a bit thankful—”
“She was thankful,” I interposed.
“Stuart went with your sister, and he said she found fault because
it wasn’t the right shape, and because there was ribbon used instead
of crape. I should have smashed up the thing and thrown it into the
fire, and told her to suit herself.”
I laughed a little, the remark was so characteristic.
“We get used to people’s ways after a while,” I said. “Mrs. Day
never is quite satisfied. If a thing had only been a little different. And
very likely next week she will show the bonnet to some neighbor and
praise Fanny’s thoughtfulness and taste. You see no one happened
to think of a bonnet until it was pretty late.”
“But why could she not have been thankful on the spot? It was
ungracious, to say the least.”
“That is her way.”
“I’d get her out of it, or I wouldn’t do any favors for her.”
“I wonder if we are always thankful on the spot, and when the
favor doesn’t quite suit us?”
There was a silence of some moments, then he said in a low tone:
“Do you mean me, Miss Endicott?”
“No, I am not quite as impolite as that. I made my remark in a
general sense.”
 “Suppose some one gave you an article that you did not want?”
“If it was from an equal, and I could decline it, granting that it was
perfectly useless, I should do so. But an inferior, or a poorer person,
who might have taken a great deal of pains, deserves more
consideration.”
“Is it not deceitful to allow them to think they have conferred a
benefit upon you?”
“I do not look at it in that light. This person intended a kindness,
and I take it at his or her appraisal. I am obliged for the labor and
love that went into it, the thought prompting it.”
“Oh,” after a silence.
“And doesn’t that make the good fellowship of the world? When
equals exchange small courtesies there is no special merit in it. No
self-sacrifice is required, no lifting up of any one, or no going down.
The world at large is no better or stronger for the example. It is when
we go out of ourselves, make our own patience and generosity and
sympathy larger, that we begin to enjoy the giving and doing.”
“But you can not really like poor, ignorant people?”
“Better sometimes than I can like rich, ignorant people. When you
walk along the roadside you enjoy the clover blooms, the common
daisies and mallows, and every flowering weed. The way gives you
its very best. These blossoms laugh and nod and twinkle in the glad
sunshine, and you are joyous with them. But if a friend who had a
large garden and gardeners in abundance asked you to come, and
took you through weedy grass-grown paths, and gathered for you a
bunch of field flowers, you would not feel so much obliged.”
“Why no.”
“It is the giving of one’s best. It may also mean the ability to
appreciate, when another gives of the best he has.”
“But can you like the work? Pardon me, but it has always seemed
to me a hint of a second or third rate mind when one can be happy
with such common pleasures. There, no doubt I have offended you.”
 “If we were always looking for our own perfect satisfaction, it would
not be. But, ‘No man liveth to himself,’ only.”
“Miss Endicott, I don’t wonder you like my brother Stephen. After
all,” rather doubtfully, “isn’t there a good deal of cant preached?”
“Only believe. All the rest will be added,” I said hurriedly.
The church bell was ringing its middle peal. There was a long
pause then it took up a sweet and rather rapid jangle, subsiding into
the slow swells of tender melody. We always called it the middle peal
and began to get ready, as that gave us just time to go to church. I
rose now, and uttered a pleasant good night.
“Say a little prayer for me, if you don’t think I am too wicked;” he
murmured faintly, turning his face away.
How peculiar he was! When I thought him softening, he was
always sure to draw back into his shell again, and his confidences
invariably came unexpectedly. Then too, they puzzled me, I was not
fit to cope with them. They seemed to jar and jangle with the every
day smoothness of my own life.
Mr. Ogden was at church alone that evening, and though the
Maynard girls were there, walked home in our circle. I was going to
stay with Fannie, but Dick Fairlie was on the other side of her, and
George and Allie West swallowed me up in the narrow path.
“I am coming in to-morrow morning to tell you of the picnic plans,”
said Allie as we were about to separate.
“Can’t I come in the evening and hear?” asked Mr. Ogden. “Or am
I the man on the other side?”
“No indeed,” spoke up Allie, “we shall be glad to have you. I will
leave a special message.”
They were a little acquainted with him, having met him at the
Maynards the summer before. The young ladies of that family had
declined participating in the affair.
We heard all the plans on Monday morn. They were to go out to
Longmeadow in wagons and carriages, taking refreshments and
conveniences. There was just a nice party. “The kind of people who
harmonize,” said Miss West. “I never can endure Tom, Dick and
Harry—everybody and his wife.”
“Of course you wouldn’t want everybody in a small party,” I
returned.
“I wish you were going, Rose.”
“The Sunday School picnic comes the week after. I could not go to
both.”
“This will be ever so much nicer.”
“O, I am not sure. There will be more enjoyment at that, because
there will be so many more to enjoy everything.”
“Your way of thinking! Well, if I was a clergyman’s daughter I
should have to go I suppose. I am glad that I can choose my
pleasures. Fanny Endicott, if Mr. Ogden calls this evening give him
my compliments and a special invitation.”
Fan colored and made some laughing retort.
He did come over with a message from his aunts, asking us to tea
on Thursday evening if it was convenient. Then he wanted to know
about the picnic, and said that he might be expected, sure.
Dick and Kate came over for Fanny. Mrs. Fairlie was in the wagon
and leaned out to make some inquiries about Mr. Duncan. Stuart had
taken a knapsack and started on foot.
I went a few steps further on to fasten up a spray of clematis. Dick
followed.
“I don’t see why you couldn’t have gone too;” he said rather
crossly.
“Should I have added so very much?”
“I suppose that grand chap of the Churchills’ will be there?” he
went on without noticing my remark.
“Yes. He was invited by Allie West, you know.”
 He snapped off a piece of honeysuckle. What was the matter with
him this morning?
Fan came down in her new pique dress, her broad sun hat
trimmed with light blue, and her white parasol lined with the same
tint. She was pretty and stylish enough for any lady’s daughter. Kate
was in a silvery, much be-ruffled poplin, and a jaunty round hat that
scarcely shaded her eyes.
Louis was considerably improved that day. He walked into the next
room, arranged some flowers that I brought him, and was quite
cheerful. He wanted very much to go down stairs, but mamma
thought he had better not, so he acquiesced pleasantly.
“If you are no worse to-morrow you may try it,” she promised.
Fan had a royal time, though she declared she was half tired to
death.
Up in our room she told me all the particulars.
“Everything was just lovely! Servants to do the work, make fires
and coffee, and spread tables, while we sat, or walked in the shade,
or rambled through the woods. We had the violins and quadrilles and
gallops and laughing, and may be a little flirting. It was absolutely
funny to see young Ogden.”
“Oh, Fan, I hope you didn’t—”
“My dear little grandmother, I am afraid I did, just the least bit. You
see Kate and Allie West tried so hard for Mr. Ogden, and he kept by
my side so easily. I had only to look. And Dick Fairlie was like a bear.
Something has vexed him.”
“I thought he was cross this morning. But, oh, Fan, I wouldn’t have
you do any thing to—to displease the Churchills.”
“And I wouldn’t, honestly Rose. This is nothing beyond summer
pastime. Why can’t we all be bright and nice and social? It is a
humbug to think of everybody’s falling in love. I don’t believe young
people would think of it, only some one is afraid and speaks before
the time, making a tangle of it all. I do not expect any one to fall in
love with me—at present.”
 CHAPTER IX.

XCITEMENTS and engagements multiplied with us.

One and another had visitors from the city and we were
sent for to tea or to spend the evening. Stuart was
asked every where as well. Louis came down the next
day and sat in the hall with us, where we were sewing
as usual. Then on Thursday we went to the Churchills. They sent the
carriage over early, before we were ready, indeed. Louis eyed the
soft cushions wistfully.
“Oh,” I spoke out before I thought, but I was glad an instant after,
—“if you would spare a few moments,—if you would take an invalid a
short drive—”
“With pleasure Miss. The sick young man, I suppose?”
“Yes,” and I ran to beg papa to help him out. Louis was delighted, I
could see.
They drove down the quiet street, where the trees met overhead.
Quaint and old fashioned, with great gardens, many of the houses
being owned by widows, or elderly people whose children were
married and gone. Less than a quarter of a mile away the road
curved, and in this little three-cornered space stood our pretty gray
stone church, the shady side covered with ivy.
“It was delightful;” said Louis on his return. “But I never thought of
the great liberty we were taking.”
“Do not fret about that,” I made answer gaily. “Be just as good as
you can, while I am gone.”
I was glad they had asked no one else at the Churchills. The
Maynards had been over the day before. Miss Churchill received us
very cordially. I explained what I had done, and made a small
apology.
 “My dear child, I am pleased that you thought of it,” returned Miss
Churchill. “Why, we might send over almost every day. I am glad he
is improving so nicely.”
“It would be a charitable work for me, Aunt Esther. Such a little
satisfies Aunt Lu that I do not keep half busy,” said Mr. Ogden.
“I never knew you to have such an industrious fit;” replied his aunt.
“But I have been in business for a year you see, and have ceased
to be an idler;” and he made a comical face.
Miss Lucy came down soon after. Then we had a nice cordial time
talking about books and looking over pictures.
Sometimes two or three voices sounded at once, not from any ill
breeding, but because we all had so much to say. Then we would
laugh and subside, and begin again. I almost wondered how we
dared feel so much at home, and utter our every day thoughts
unreservedly.
Mr. Churchill joined us, and the conversation, asking about church
matters, and if we were going to take the Sunday School to the
cascade again? Were there many sick in the parish?
“Not very many for this season of the year,” I made answer.
“Our town is about as healthy as any location I know. Why people
must be running off to watering places and leaving comfortable
houses, I can not understand.”
“The grand thing is change. Most of us do get tired of running
along in one groove.”
“Why Esther! I thought you considered the doctrine of change a
great heresy!” and Mr. Churchill looked surprised.
“I have been thinking lately that we might make our lives too
narrow, too self-satisfying. So if we get outside we may have our
ideas broadened, and find something new to do, or if we are
dissatisfied with our surroundings, we may come back quite content.”
“Do you want to go any where?”
 “Not just now.”
Fan and Lucy had been talking over the picnic.
“Can’t we drive there in the afternoon?” she asked of her brother,
“I should like to see a crowd of happy children.”
“Are you going, Winthrop?”
“I expect to be field marshal. Miss Endicott has engaged my
services at an enormous salary. You will be able to tell me by a blue
ribbon around my left arm, and a primrose in the lappel of my coat. I
am to see that the rear guard is prompt at dinner.”
He looked at me very soberly, and the others glanced in the same
direction. I could not help blushing to the roots of my hair, and
exclaiming:
“Why Mr. Ogden!”
“Aunt Lucy will tell you that I have a great deal of executive ability.”
They all laughed.
The tea-table was exquisite as usual. Afterward we had music,
Fan and I singing duets, or Mr. Ogden joining us with a very
promising tenor voice.
“Can we not all sing?” asked Fanny presently. “Let me play some
familiar hymns.”
Mr. Churchill came and stood behind her watching the graceful
fingers that dropped such soft, sweet notes. As if he could not resist
he added his bass voice, and then we had quite a choir.
“Young ladies, you have given me an exceedingly pleasant
evening;” he said as we were preparing to leave. “I hope it may soon
be repeated.”
Winthrop and Fanny laughed at each other all the way home. They
were not a bit sentimental, and I felt quite relieved. Since the
Churchills were so cordial about it, why should I worry?
He came over the next morning with the barouche and two horses
to take out Mr. Duncan.
 “You didn’t ask such a favor for me?” and Louis’ eyes almost
flashed.
“I did not ask anything, or even hint. Why can you not go and
enjoy it?”
“I don’t choose to be patronized.”
“I think this was Mr. Ogden’s own planning. You will like him I am
sure. Oh please go,” I entreated.
In the meanwhile Winthrop had been admiring the baby and
bantering some one else to fill up the carriage. Oddly enough
mamma consented to take Edith. When Louis heard that he made no
further objection.
The result of this was that Winthrop came back and staid to dinner.
We were all going to the Fairlie’s to tea and croquet. And Fan
absolutely sent him home or I believe he would have staid until we
started.
Mamma liked him. Stuart pronounced him jolly, but Louis withheld
his verdict. I must confess that I admired him ever so much. You
could get on with him so nicely.
I was very glad that Fan did not monopolize him during the
evening. Dick appeared quite elated with her notice of him. It was
moonlight and we walked home together, but somehow then Dick fell
to my share.
The next week we hardly had a moment to breathe. What with our
engagements and getting everything in train for the picnic we were
as busy as bees. The aristocratic part seldom joined us, but papa
always obeyed the scriptural injunction. The lame, and the halt, and
the blind were hunted up, the whimsical old people who would not go
without a special invitation, the poor who were sure they had nothing
to wear, and the children who were always ready, but needed getting
in order.
Mamma remained behind with baby and Louis. I was to act for her
as well as I could. The stronger portion of the community were to
meet on the church green and march in regular order. Fan had
beguiled Dick Fairlie into taking Jennie Ryder and her mother, who
was quite disabled from a stroke of paralysis two years before. All
the others were to go in wagons or stages or wheel-barrows, she
said.
Winthrop came over and helped us manage the children. At nine
we took up our line of march under the shady trees. There was a
shorter way in the sun, but we had time enough. This road wound
round the hilly district, crossed the river once, and then seemed to
lose itself in the woods. At least there was the hill and the trees on
one side. Here a craggy declivity stood out bold and brown amid the
waving green, ferns and wild flowers grew in the clefts, or shrubs
with precarious footing. A spur of the creek ran along the height, and
presently began to find its way down through a sort of sloping river,
purling over rocks and stones and fallen trees, and in two places
pouring down a precipitous pathway, making very pretty falls, the
larger one at least ten feet high. Then it ran off and joined the river.
There was one lovely nook, though art had assisted nature here. A
clearing had been made years ago, and now the turf of clover and
grass was like velvet.
It was a small basin between the mountains. Down one side of it
came the cascade, wandering off through the woods in curves that
made a picturesque way. The place was used considerably for
pleasure parties, and kept in tolerable order. The committee had
been down the day before, put up swings, made some long tables
and seats, and given the place quite a homelike air.
The walk was beautiful with varied scenery, fresh, crisp air, and
clearest of skies. Mr. Ogden made acquaintance with Mr. Trafton, our
superintendent, in about five minutes, and they marshalled the
children in a jolly fashion. All heavy baskets and bundles were put in
a great farm wagon, and we had nothing to do but march along
triumphantly to the carol of the birds.
The youngsters were wild, of course. They shouted at a little gray
squirrel which ran along the path, they gave sundry shrill whistles
that exceeded the birds, they laughed and chattered, stepped out of
line to gather wild flowers or pick up some uncommon pebble,
beginning their day’s pleasure at the very outset. But papa did not
care. Indeed he was as merry as any of them.
I thought several times how Stephen Duncan would have liked it. I
wondered what should have brought him so plainly before my mind
on this particular day!
Through winding ways we trooped. Over beyond there were broad
meadows and waving corn-fields, scattered farm buildings and
cottages, with a bit of road, gleaming dusty white in the sunshine, the
river broadening into lakes or bending abruptly; and nearer, the
changing glooms and shadows, the points of the hills in blue and
purple and bronze. All the air was so clear and sweet, it sent the
rushes of warm blood to heart and brain, and then to very finger
ends.
The infantry, as Winthrop called it, reached the ground a long
while first. We had to disband and the children ran around as if they
had never seen a bit of country before. Shawls and baskets were
stowed in out-of-the-way corners or suspended from trees. Some of
the hardier boys pulled off shoes and stockings, preparatory to
having a good time. As for us elders, we began to straighten out our
affairs and set up for house-keeping. There were so many lovely
people. Miss Oldways,—who taught the bible-class of larger girls,—
in her soft, pearl gray dress, and ribbon of the same shade on her
bonnet, with a bit of pale blue inside. She was always so sweet and
lady-like. She and her widowed sister, Mrs. Bromley, kept a little
thread and needle store in the village, and, though they were
business women, I did not see that it detracted in the least from their
refinement.
Annie and Chris Fellows were with us, and Mrs. Elsden, though
she had four children in the Sunday School, but I think she would
have enjoyed herself any way. Mrs. Fairlie and Kate had gone to the
sea-shore the day before, with the Wests and some others. Then
there were Mothers and Aunts of the children, and several of the
farmer families near by.
We had stowed our luggage in a cool, shady place and sent the
wagon home when the caravan arrived. Old ladies who could not
have walked, but were in holiday white apron and kerchief, or best
gingham dress, and some with their knitting. We placed shawls on
the mossy rocks or benches, and seated them.
“Here is your precious cargo,” said Dick to Fannie. “Come and
welcome them.”
“Oh, Mrs. Ryder, I am so glad you could come.”
“I couldn’t if it had not been for you, dear. You are always thinking
of something pleasant. I was so surprised when Dick told me—”
He was Dick to almost everybody, for his father was a plain,
sociable farmer, and the son had grown up with the village boys. It
was a great mortification to Mrs. Fairlie that he did not want to go to
college and liked farming. But then Kate kindly took “cultivation”
enough for two.
“What will you do with her?” asked Dick, lifting her out in his strong
arms.
“Right here. O Jennie!” and she went on making a soft corner.
Dick put Mrs. Ryder in it. The neighbors crowded round, glad to
see her out. A pale, sweet, motherly looking woman, who had been
very handsome in her day, and now her cordial thankfulness was
good to behold.
“You are just splendid;” Fan whispered to Dick.
We all liked Jennie Ryder ever so much, and felt a peculiar
interest in her, beside. Two years ago,—or it would be in September,
—after Jennie had graduated with honors she obtained a situation in
an excellent school some twenty miles away, where she could only
come home every Friday, but then the salary was too good to be
declined. Just after she had taught two months, the stroke had fallen
upon her mother. A cousin who had always lived with them was
taken ill with a fever and died. For weeks Mrs. Ryder lay between life
and death. Jennie was compelled to relinquish her school. It was a
sore disappointment, for she loved teaching. But by spring Mrs.
Ryder had partially recovered her health, yet her limbs were well
nigh useless. She would hobble around a little with crutches, but
Jennie knew that it would never do to leave her alone.
They owned a small cottage and garden, but the sickness had
made sad inroads in the little fortune. Jennie felt compelled to earn
something at home, so she bought a sewing machine and did fine
work. I suppose every town or village thinks it must draw a line
somewhere. There were the exclusive West Side people, who only
expected to exchange calls with each other, there were the rich
people who had been poor thirty or forty years ago, and then there
was the circle who wanted to get on and up, by pushing others down
and clinging to the skirts of those just above them. Somehow Jennie
Ryder was pushed down. The richer girls who were at the Academy
with her dropped her by degrees when she sewed for their mothers.
One and another left off inviting her out to little sociables, or croquet.
I think she felt it keenly, but she made no complaint.
She had so many pretty refined ways and accomplishments. If she
had been in a city she could have made them useful, but here all the
places were filled. She painted in water colors, drew in crayons, that
were almost equal to chromos, made moss baskets and ferneries
and picture scrap-books, and had their house looking like a little fairy
nest. And she was so sunny and cheery, and really charming when
her true self had a chance to peep out from the fence that
circumstances and ignorant people built about her.
“Oh,” she said glancing around; “it is like a bit of heaven framed in,
isn’t it? just look at the sky over head and the tree tops and mountain
tops holding it up, as it were. And a whole long, lovely day! I did not
expect on Sunday that I could come.”
“It’s the daily bread for this day;” said papa softly, as he was
shaking hands with her mother.
“And cake and cream and fruit off of the twelve trees. And the
seventy palms with their shade and beauty.”
“You have brought some sunshine,—you seldom go empty-
handed, Jennie,” said papa.
 Dick turned and looked at her just then. She had such a clear,
sweet, tender expression, the nameless something better than
beauty. A slender, graceful figure, white and peachy-pink tints with
brown hair and eyes. Her dress was white and a marvel of
workmanship, with its bias tucking and straight tucking and bands of
embroidery that she had done herself. Fan once quoted her, but
mamma reminded her that there were seven of us, and that tucks
must be divided by that number.
“And I am going to have a splendid time. Mother, here is your
book. Are you quite comfortable? If you don’t mind, I will take a
ramble with the girls. You and Mrs. Conklin can have a nice talk.”
“No dear, go on.”
Mrs. Conklin had taken out her knitting. She was from one of the
farms over the river, a healthy, happy, rosy-cheeked grandmother,
her fingers flying fondly in and out of the tiny red clouded stocking.
“Where will you go first?” asked Dick of the group of girls.
“To the Cascade,” replied Mr. Ogden.
“You are not girls,” said Fan saucily.
“But you know you wouldn’t that one of us were left behind;” he
quoted sentimentally.
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Modesty is becoming to young
people.”
“Do you expect to find the old ones sitting on the steps of time,
with faces grimly uncovered?”
They all laughed. Fan took Jennie Ryder’s arm, and Dick filled up
the path beside them, so Winthrop fell back with me. Stuart was right
behind with the prettiest girl he could find, as usual. On we started,
but ere we had reached the first ascent we saw numerous followers
in our wake.
“It is like a picture,” exclaimed Winthrop. “Or better still, a series of
pictures. Oh, look at this moss! and these tiny ferns!”
 They all stopped. How beautiful it was in this wide, glowing,
redundant life, the trailing riotous vines, the long streamers of last
year’s Aaron’s beard, the rustling of the leaves and the rippling,
tinkling sound of the water.
“How curious;” said Jennie. “That is a walking fern.”
“Ah, you know it?” and Winthrop glanced up in a pleased fashion.
“I have a fern bed at home. I like them so much. And these grow in
such a peculiar manner.”
“And she has the cunningest winter ferneries that you ever saw,
Mr. Ogden,” declared Fan.
“I like them too. They always give me a peculiar sensation of the
quiet and shade in which they grew. They are like the Quakers,
never surprising you by any gaudy freaks of blossoming. Oh, were
any of you here a month ago?”
“I came for rhododendrons one day;” Jennie answered.
“That was what entered my mind. What crowds and crowds of
trees! I am generally here in August, so I miss that. How perfectly
glorious they must be. What colors?”
“Pure white and pale, blossomy pink.”
“Those are my favorites. I sometimes think I was meant for a
country life. I like the growing and blossoming, the ripening and the
fruit. Autumn rounds everything so perfectly.”
“Yes,” said Dick, “there is always a great richness in Autumn. The
smells of the drying fields, of the stacked corn, the apples and pears
and grapes. And the leaves all aglow, the chestnuts full of yellow
burrs. You ought to come then, Mr. Ogden!”
“I believe I will. Can we all go nutting? That is after the frosts,
though.”
“Yes, late in October.”
“Oh, look!”
 We had been going on for a few moments, now we paused again.
It was so all the way up. Something to see and to feel, to pause and
drink in with all one’s soul. Here a rock sculptured and set as if by an
artist hand. Richest moss, great, feathery fronds, pellucid waters,
breaks of sunshine, and haunts of deep gloom. Now we were
serious, then we laughed gaily at some quick jest. It takes so little to
amuse when one is young and happy.
We passed the stream at length and went on to the mountain-top.
What a fair outlying prospect! There was the village below, the
church spires, some tall factory chimneys, and beyond it all
mountains again. I thought of the hills standing about Jerusalem, and
the Lord everywhere, standing about his people.
“O,” exclaimed Fan at length, “we must go back, who will get our
dinner?”
“Who will eat it? is a subject for our more serious consideration;”
said Winthrop.
“And if—

‘When we get there

The cupboard is bare?’”

“That would be a dire misfortune. By the time we reach the bottom

again, we shall be as hungry as bears.”
“You might comfort yourself like the old man of Kilkenny.”
“How was that?” inquired Winthrop.
Stuart’s eyes twinkled with their fun-loving light as he began:

“There was an old man of Kilkenny.

Who never had more than a penny.
He spent all that money in onions and honey,
This wayward old man of Kilkenny.”

They all laughed heartily. We began our descent but were

changed about somehow. Every body helped the one who came to
hand. Now it was Dick, then Mr. Ogden or Stuart. We slipped and
scrambled and uttered small shrieks, making the way very lively.
“See here!” exclaimed Winthrop—“a wild rose and buds, I think
them so especially beautiful. Who is queen of the May to be
crowned?”
“You are too late;” laughed Fan, “May has gone.”
“Queen of Midsummer, then. Miss Endicott accept this late
treasure. Let it blossom and wither on your heart—sweets to the
sweet.”
This was to Fan. Her blue eyes laughed saucily.
“The sweet in both cases being about alike,” she made answer.
He gave it to her in a mock sentimental fashion just as his speech
had been. She fastened it in the bosom of her dress, making a
sweeping courtesy.
A strange flash glowed over Dick Fairlie’s face. I do not think any
one else observed it, but it sent my heart up to my throat in a
moment. I understood with a kind of secret sense that it was both
love and jealousy. Then I glanced at gay laughing Fan. Did she
mistrust?
I felt strangely, sadly wise, as if in five minutes I had grown years
older. A thing like this coming into our very midst! Well, among so
many girls there would probably be one or two marriages, and who
more likely than winsome, beguiling Fanny.
In the valley they were at work. A fire had been kindled and a
great tea kettle was swinging in the blaze. Baskets were being
unpacked. Table cloths and dishes laid out, and everybody talked at
once.
“Rose,” said papa, “I have been looking for you. Miss Oldways
wants you to help with the table. Where are Daisy, Lil and Tim?”
“Nelly promised to keep watch and ward to-day;” and with that I
shook out my large white kitchen apron which nearly covered the
skirt of my dress, and went to work in good earnest.