Astounding Science Fiction, October 1950 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

NEW FOUNDATIONS 7 Both men turned to look at the child, who had been listening without a word. “I think I would, Uncle Ralph,” said Stella. “Suppose you go along then and make coffee and cut some cake for us,” suggested her uncle. “Give me a little while to talk business with Dr. Welles here.” He walked to the other end of the room, and Stella came to the doctor’s side and said in low, urgent tones: “You were sent to me, weren't you?” “You might put it that way,” replied the psychiatrist. What did she mean? Her uncle was returning with cigarettes and matches, and Stella left the room. “I wanted her to go so I could speak right out,” he said. Dr Welles accepted a cigarette. “The fact is, Stella isn’t happy here,” said her uncle, “and there isn’t much I can do about it. But I tell you fairly, we have no money for expensive schooling.” “No money is needed, Mr. Oates.” “She and her cousins don’t get on. They tease her a lot and I can’t wonder they do. Stella’s notional. Sort of affected. She puts on that superior air of hers, and the other kids don’t like it. They torment her and make her miserable. I moved to this house on purpose so she could have a little room of her own, and I told mine to keep out of it and let her things alone. Bits of poetry she used to try to write, they'd read out loud and laugh over. She’s a bright little thing, Stella is, but sometimes sullen. I’ve often thought if she could go away to school it would be the making of her.” “She is different from her cousins, then.” “Yes, she’s a hop out of kin, all right. And she takes a sort of pride in being dif- ferent, too. I went so far as to have a talk with her teacher about her last May. She told me Stella isn’t much like any other kids and she might grow up to be a genius. I favor her all I can, but she’s beyond me to understand. She has me get the most outlandish books out of the library for her to look at, nothing a normal child would take any interest in.” “What sort of books?” “Oh, old languages, with different alpha- - bets, and ancient history, and things about Asia and Africa. No harm in it that I could see, but I don’t know where she ever even heard of such’ things. She does well in school—much better than the rest of them. — That shows them up, of course, and they don’t like it a little bit. Mine have good heads enough but they're always carrying on and gadding about in a noisy crowd and they don’t take any interest in their books. * My wife’s as good as she can be to Stella, and yet it’s hard all around. Mine act up and make a racket on purpose when they know Stella wants to be quiet, and she shows plain she don’t like it. She always has her nose in a book. She likes deep stuff, too. She says the others are just like savages. Of course, kids will call names, and mine say she just tries to show offi. They say she only pretends to read those history books.” “What do you think?” “T can’t make head or tail of the books myself, and I doubt if Stella can, but it seems to interest her. Now, you see how I’m placed. If I send her away to school at my own expense, mine would feel sort of slighted, you see? They don’t grudge their cousin her fair share, and never did, but that would be a good big slice more than her share. I don’t have too much to do with. So if there is any way it could be managed so as not to take away from my own children, Dr. Welles, let me tell you it would be a godsend.” “Mr. Oates, I am glad you have told me all this, and I can see your problem,” said Peter Welles. “You said you were the school psy- chologist where you live,” said Ralph Oates, “and I thought likely you'd under- stand the girl better than we do.” “Tf you trust her to us, I promise that you ll never regret it.” “ll want to be sure, you know. Look up your references and all that.” “Til give you a list of local men who know me,” said Peter, scribbling rapidly on the back of a used envelope. “Call these. And others in the West,” he scrib- bled more. “The school will not open for some months,” said Peter, who had just had a brilliant idea, “but you can send or bring Stella to us any time. Miss Page would be glad to take her. Miss Page has been teaching in the public schools of Oakley for thirty years or more; she was one of my teachers when I was a boy. Stella might as well live with her and go to public school as Elsie does, and I will do what I can for her. You think, don’t you, that she needs some special atten- tion?” — “Yes, I do. I don’t know much about such things, but she doesn’t seem to adjust well at school, or at home where she has GComichboo <SEiGO ffl)