"Daria, Daria." Rachel Landon called as Daria and Rachel's big sister Jodie approached the Morgendorffer's house.
Daria stopped and regarded Rachel and a friend skipping rope in the middle of the quiet street. Jodie smirked as she saw a tiny smile creep across Daria's face.
"Daria, teach us another song," Rachel requested. "You know all the fun ones."
"Rachel," Jodie said. "You better remember that the last song Daria taught you got you into loads of trouble at school."
"Jodie, we have to show our kid sisters the best things in life." Daria told her. "Who else will?"
Daria put her auburn hair back with a tight rubber binder. Jodie held her cheaters. Daria smiled as she took a jump rope from Jodie's friend. The three other girls watched as the shorter girl warmed up with the rope then began to skip faster and faster with one-legged skips, doubles and fancy manoeuvres. The girls were once again amazed at how the small teen-ager could move so adroitly in her heavy black boots.
Daria slowed and established a consistent rhythm at which point she began to chant in her monotone voice and at a volume to carry over her boots on the pavement, rope sounds and the breeze playing through the trees.
Lincoln Beachey thought it was a dream
To go up to Heaven in a flying machine.
The machine broke down and down he fell.
Instead of going to Heaven he went to…
Lincoln Beachey thought it was a dream
To go up to Heaven in a flying machine.
The machine broke down and down he fell.
Instead of going to Heaven he went to…
Jodie found herself clapping with the other girls and chanting along with Daria to memorize the lyrics.
Daria skipped through another repetition then handed the rope to Rachel's friend. They were about to launch into it when a call sounded from the Morgendorffer's front porch.
"Daria Louise Morgendorffer," Mrs. Landon's voice instantly stopped the girls. "How dare you teach my girls another awful song? Imagine, speculating about a man's eternal destiny just to skip rope!"
"Sorry, Mrs. Landon," Daria said with head down. Even so, Jodie thought she could detect a hint of a smile on her friend's otherwise placid face.
Mrs. Landon crossed her arms and frowned. Jake came out to the porch in his shirt sleeves and the two conversed.
"Kiddo!" Jake addressed his daughter. "You know enough to keep those songs to yourself."
He mused a moment then swung a dusty tan leather briefcase.
"Hey, I got it. How about you get the saddle soap, the leather polish and some elbow grease and clean up my best satchel here? Mr. Landon and I have a big meeting day after tomorrow. You can sing your songs to yourself as you brush and bull the way I showed you. Just like me in the AEF come to think of it."
"See, old man," Jake's sudden stance shaking his fist against the air prompted a side-ways look from Mrs. Landon. "I'm teaching my girl how to do things right. You never taught me anything, did you? You just sat there with your beer and told little Jakey how bad he was at doing everything."
Quinn came out to happily catch her sister getting into trouble. Helen joined the other adults on the porch prompting Jake to quit gesticulating. She was coming home early from the law office more often again, likely to give more work to men with families, Daria speculated to herself.
"And those boots of yours look like they could use a polish too." Helen added. "Remember our deal: if you insist on wearing those men's clodhoppers you have to at least keep them clean and shiny."
"Ishkabibble," Daria said almost silently as she took her father's business bag.
"What was that, young lady?" Helen said louder. "You know we can take that old radio out of your room, Daria. It's obviously a bad influence. Your sister would hate to miss Rudy Vallee you know."
Jodie almost giggled as Daria turned to her and mouthed a silent, "Ishkabibble-cubed."
Helen chose to ignore her daughter's scowl and implied backtalk. Daria took difficult classes and took home the best grades in school and she expected some rebellion from such a talented child. Two years before, the schools had proposed skipping Daria one or even two grades but the Morgendorffers felt their daughter needed to grow both physically and socially before she got into the company of older students.
Jodie's mother was not done yet. "And all you girls best get busy with your homework. If you don't have any I can surely come up with chores you can tackle."
"That reminds me," Helen added. "Daria, Quinn, you two go weed the kitchen garden. You know you can't let it go a couple days."
"Mom," Daria objected. "I've been learning in biology that some weeds attract butterflies, bees and other pollinators. You don't want to upset that balance by having us pull up those beneficials, do you?"
Quinn nodded vigorously, unsure what Daria had said exactly but recognizing she was trying to get them out of manual labor.
Helen folded her arms. "You know the deal Daria, it's have a garden out back, a pear and apple tree and do canning in the fall. Or—"
Helen smirked as she leaned over the rail to address her daughter up close. "Or would you rather take care of a pig and some chickens? Here a chick there a chick. Oink. Oink."
Daria sighed and Quinn shook her head aghast; both teens remembered the ultimatum posed with a choice which the parents had handed down a few years previous. Daria and Quinn had spent brief moments consulting in their shared bedroom before agreeing that raising vegetables was preferable to a pig and chickens.
"Old McMorgendorffer had a farm," Daria said monotone. "A nice, quiet, clean vegetable farm."
"And on this farm she had two field hands named Quinn and Daria," Quinn joined in.
AN: Daria's ditty is a jump rope song from 1920s San Francisco, CA. There is no support from canon but I have long had it as a head-canon that Daria is a skilled jump rope artist.
