Discovering Emily by Jacqueline Pearce Read Free Book Online Page B

quiet. She was like the frogs too — not a beautiful English singing bird, but a spunky creaking British Columbia frog. And she liked it.
    At home she continued to draw at her easel, and Alice continued to complain aboutsweeping around the legs. Sometimes it seemed to Emily, though, that the complaining was just habit, and Alice didn’t really mind. Once, Alice had even told her that she thought Emily’s drawing was improving, but Emily was sure she’d only said it to be nice. Lizzie had not said anything nice when she tripped over one of Emily’s large plaster noses. She still thought Emily was wasting her time with art. Emily scowled at Lizzie and tried to ignore her words, but she felt discouraged. With all her heart, Emily wished she could be an artist. But wishes had disappointed her too many times.
    One art class, Miss Woods announced that they were going to have a contest to see who could copy the best.
    â€œOnce you have learned how to copy,” explained Miss Woods, “you can begin drawing from life.”
    The idea of drawing from life was exciting. Copying pictures was getting dull. Miss woods gave Emily a picture of a boy holding a rabbit. Emily looked at the picture. She tried to imagine drawing a real live rabbit,and thought about what the rabbit would feel like in her own arms. She remembered the day she drew the picture of Carlow — his warm fur and his wet nose. The rabbit’s nose would twitch. Its fur would be softer. Emily’s pencil moved across the paper. She forgot about the other children. The lines of the pencil and the imagined feel of the rabbit blended together and filled Emily.
    When she was finished, Emily put down her pencil. She felt light and happy.
    Miss Woods walked around the room, looking carefully at each of the children’s drawings. She held up one that a girl named Bessie Nuthall had done. The picture of a girl with a basket was very neat and carefully drawn. The winner for sure, Emily thought. But then Miss Woods put the drawing down and walked on. She picked up Emily’s. She seemed to be frowning at the smudged lines, and Emily sank down in her seat. Her happy feeling seeped away. It was hopeless. She would never be good at anything.
    â€œThis is the winner!” Miss Woods announced with a big smile.
    It was Emily’s picture.
    â€œIt’s not the neatest,” said Miss Woods. “But it’s got the most life in it.”

18
The Lily Field
    When Emily walked home from school she felt so light her feet barely touched the ground. The road was muddy from spring rain, so she ran along the wooden sidewalk and jumped off at the gate in front of the Carr house. First, she went to Carlow’s kennel and crouched down to pet him. His muddy paws left marks on her pinafore, but she didn’t care. His tail wagged happily, and Emily felt that if she had a tail it would be wagging too. Then, she ran into the house.
    Dede was just coming out of the kitchen.
    â€œQuiet!” she snapped. “Mother is resting.” Emily stopped as suddenly as if she’dbumped into a wall. Dede was never happy with anything she did. She probably wouldn’t like Emily’s new drawing. She’d think it was messy like the Carlow drawing. She probably wouldn’t care about the contest. Slowly, Emily held out her picture.
    â€œLook,” she whispered. “My drawing was picked the best in the whole class.”
    â€œIt’s not nice to be boastful,” Dede scolded. But she took the drawing and looked at it.
    â€œYou won a contest?” she asked. Did her voice soften? Were the corners of her mouth turning up? Emily wasn’t sure.
    â€œYes,” Emily said.
    â€œWell, well,” Dede said. “Very good.”
    Had Dede actually said “very good”? Emily wanted to leap into the air. She, Emily, had done something good. But Dede’s voice stiffened again, and her face went back to being