Tar and Feathers
After the decided triumph of their Anglo-American tableau at the
carnival, the Camellia Buds held up their heads against their rivals,
the Starry Circle. There was hot competition between the two sororities,
each continually trying to "go one better" than the other. If the Stars
held a surreptitious candy party, the Buds, at the risk of detection by
Rachel or some other prefect, gave a dormitory stunt, throwing out hints
afterwards of the fun they had enjoyed. Both societies produced
manuscript magazines, which were read in strict privacy at their
meetings, and contained pointed allusions to their enemies' failings. No
old-fashioned Whigs and Tories could have preserved a keener feud, the
division between them waxing so serious that sometimes they could hardly
sit peaceably side by side in class.
"It's all Mabel," declared Jess. "Of course we had two sororities before
she came, but we weren't at daggers drawn like this. Mabel has spoiled
Bertha, and those two lead everything--the rest are simply sheep."
"Humph! Pretty black sheep I should call them," snorted Peachy.
"They're siding with one another now to break rules. I don't mean candy
parties or just fun of that kind, but sneaking things: they're cheating
abominably over their exercises, and cribbing each other's translations
wholesale. I found them at it yesterday and told them what I thought
about them. Some of them ought to know better. Rosamonde and Monica
aren't really that sort."
"They're bear-led by Bertha and Mabel. I lay all the blame on them. It
would be a good thing for the Stars if that precious pair could be
caught tripping and taught a lesson."
"I dare say it would but it's not an easy business," said Peachy
gloomily. "Mabel Hughes is an extremely slippery young person, and she
generally manages to keep out of open trouble. I don't suppose any of
the teachers, or even the prefects, have the least idea what she's
really like."
"And we can't go sneaking and tell them, so we must try and engineer the
matter for ourselves."
It was undoubtedly true that with the advent of Mabel Hughes a new and
unpleasant element had crept into the Transition. Such an influence is
often very subtle. Girls who a term ago would not have condescended to
any form of cheating, accepted a lower standard of honor, and tried to
excuse themselves on the ground that they merely did the same as others.
The fact that the Camellia Buds did not share in the dishonesty was set
down to priggishness on their part, Bertha and Mabel often making jokes
at their expense. One day an unpleasant matter happened in the school.
It was the fortnightly examination, and when the Transition took their
places at their desks, with sheets of foolscap and lists of questions,
it was found that the inkwells of each member of the Camellia Buds had
been stuffed up with blotting-paper, so that it was impossible for them
to dip their pens.
Miss Bickford, who did not even know of the existence of the sororities,
and therefore could not perceive the significance of the fact that
certain girls were thus served while others went free, flew into a
towering rage, and accused Peachy, whose reputation as a practical joker
was not altogether undeserved, of having played the shameless "joke."
Peachy, smarting with the injustice of the false charge, forgot herself
and retorted hotly.
"Priscilla Proctor!" thundered Miss Bickford. "I have sometimes excused
high spirits, but I never allow impertinence and insubordination. Leave
the room instantly and go upstairs to the sanatorium. You'll remain
there until you apologize."
A dead hush fell over the class as Peachy, with flaming eyes and chin in
the air, flounced out and slammed the door after her. It was an extreme
measure at the Villa Camellia to banish a girl to the sanatorium, a
public disgrace generally administered only by one of the principals,
and scarcely ever resorted to by a form mistress.
Miss Bickford, with a red spot on each cheek, glared at the row of
faces in front of her.
"Can any one give any information about this business?" she asked, then
as nobody replied she continued, "I'm disgusted with the whole set of
you. I wish to say that I'm not as blind as you seem to think, and I've
noticed many points about your work that are, to say the least,
extremely suspicious. I tell you once and for all _this must stop_! I
won't have cheating, practical jokes, or impertinence in this form. Do
you all thoroughly understand me? Very well then, don't let this kind of
thing ever happen again. Empty those ink-pots out on to that tray, and,
Winnie, fetch the ink-bottle out of the cupboard and refill them. This
senseless proceeding has wasted a large part of your examination time,
but I shall make no excuse for it. Your papers will be marked as if you
had begun at nine o'clock."
With Miss Bickford on the war-path no one dared to say a single word,
but at mid-morning interval the injured Camellia Buds snatched their
biscuits, and fled to their grotto in the garden to hold an indignation
meeting. Here they talked fast and freely.
"It's a jolly shame!"
"_Most_ unfair!"
"Poor old Peachy!"
"Who did it?"
"Why, Mabel, of course!"
"Or Bertha?"
"One or other of them!"
"Miss Bickford has noticed their cheating!"
"Yes, and puts it off on to us all!"
"I like that!"
"It's so gloriously fair, isn't it?"
"She may say she's not blind, but she's an absolute cat!"
"What's to be done about it?"
"Those Stars won't ever tell!"
"Trust them to screen themselves!"
"Oh, it's _too_ bad!"
Letting off steam, though comforting to their feelings, did not bring
them any nearer to a solution of their problem. The unpleasant fact
remained that the rival sorority had played an abominable trick, and
that the blame at present rested upon Peachy. To prove her innocence
required the wisdom of Solomon.
If they could have explained the whole situation to Miss Bickford she
would at once have seen for herself that the offender must be among the
ranks of the Stars, but such a proceeding would mean not only an entire
breach of schoolgirl etiquette, but a betrayal of their own secret
society. It was not to be thought of for a moment.
"Peachy'll have to climb down and apologize," decided Jess.
"Peachy eat humble-pie? Oh, good-night!"
"Well, she certainly was cheeky."
"Small blame to her!"
"It was very silly of her, though, to flare out."
"She's in the fix of her life now, poor dear."
"Can't we do anything to help her?"
"I don't know. Let's think it over and hold another meeting this
afternoon."
Peachy's place at the dinner-table was empty that day, and her meal was
sent up to the sanatorium upon a tray. Miss Bickford had told her side
of the story to Miss Rodgers, who agreed that discipline must be
maintained, and ordered the detention of the prisoner until she showed
symptoms of repentance. Meanwhile Peachy, still in an utterly rebellious
frame of mind, stayed upstairs, determined not to give way. It was dull,
undoubtedly, to be banished to solitary confinement, for there was not
even a book in the room to amuse her. Her own thoughts were her sole
occupation. She had a very fertile brain, however, and suddenly a most
brilliant suggestion occurred to her. The sanatorium was on the top
story of the Villa Camellia, and by peeping from its window she could
command a view of the iron balcony that fronted the rooms below. She
calculated that she was probably exactly above dormitory 10, occupied by
Joan, Esther, Mary, and Agnes, and that these chums would later on be
engaged there at their preparation. With a little ingenuity it should be
possible to communicate with them. She unfortunately had neither pencil
nor paper with her, so could not write a note, but she took off her
brooch and fastened it to the end of a long piece of string, which by
extra good luck happened to be in her pocket. When she judged that the
right moment had arrived she lowered her signal so that it would tap on
the balcony. There was, of course, a certain amount of risk about the
venture, for she might have miscalculated, and be dropping her token
into the midst of enemies instead of friends. Greatly to her relief,
however, Agnes appeared through the French window, and, after examining
the brooch with apparent surprise, glanced upwards and saw Peachy's
face. She gave a comprehensive smile, put her fingers on her lips for
silence, bolted into her dormitory, and returned with a package of
chocolate which she tied firmly to the end of the string, then waved her
hand and darted back to her preparation.
Peachy drew up her present, chuckling with delight. She felt almost like
a captive of the Middle Ages, and was beginning to plan a romantic
escape down an improvised rope ladder, when it occurred to her that she
would scarcely know what to do with her liberty if she regained it.
"Botheration!" she mused. "Unless I square things up I can't walk in to
tea, and I can't haunt the garden like a wandering ghost, and I've no
money to pay my passage on the steamer, so I can't go home to Naples.
Nothing for it but to stay here, I suppose, and see who gets tired out
first."
When the Camellia Buds were able to meet together again at a secret
conclave in the garden, Agnes announced the important fact of having
established communication with the prisoner. After an animated
discussion they decided to write her a round-robin letter and set forth
their idea of the situation. Each composed a sentence in turn, and Lorna
acted as scribe. It ran thus:
_The Grotto._
_To our noble friend and Camellia Bud_--
_Greeting!_
_The Sorority desires to express a vote
of sympathy for the very unpleasant
occurrence that happened this morning._
A. DALTON.
_Those Stars are the meanest things on
earth and want spifflicating._
J. LUCAS.
_We admire you for the magnificent stand
you are making, but we don't see how you
are going to keep it up._
M. FERGUSSON.
_It's frightfully slow without you._
I. BEVERLEY.
_We think you'll have to cave in and
apologize._
S. YONGE.
_But, of course, not own up to something
you never did._
J. CAMERON.
_We'll get even with those Stars to make
up for this._
L. CARSON.
_Don't stick in the Sanatorium all
night._
E. CARTMELL.
_It's no use getting too mad, old sport!
Come right down and talk sense._
D. WATTS.
This united effusion was placed in an envelope, and carried by Agnes to
her dormitory, where, after scouts in the garden had assured her that
the coast was clear, she ventured on to the veranda, and gave a cooee
which brought Peachy to the window above. The latter let down her string
and drew up the letter, which she pondered upon in private. She was wise
enough to accept the good advice, and when Miss Bickford appeared later
on she tendered her apologies. The teacher had possibly repented of her
hasty accusation, for she did not refer to the matter of the inkwells,
but merely required satisfaction for "insubordination." That being given
Peachy was once more free, though she could hardly consider herself
restored to full favor.
"I used to like Miss Bickford," she grumped, "but I really don't think
she's been fair over this. Why couldn't she ask each girl separately
what she knew about it?"
"Much good that would have done. Bertha and Mabel wouldn't have told the
truth, and things would only have been in a worse muddle. We'll catch
those two sometime if we can only think of how to do it."
"Ah! That's just the question."
Even the Stars had been rather alarmed by Miss Bickford's firm
attitude, and for the present they did not dare to cheat openly or to
play any more tricks upon the form. Stopped in this direction their
ringleaders turned their attention to other matters. What was the nature
of these it was Irene's lot one day to discover. She happened to be
walking in a rather quiet part of the garden, a portion reserved mostly
for vegetables, which adjoined the great wall that separated the estate
from the highroad. As she sauntered along, doing nothing in particular,
she noticed Mabel, who was standing under an orange tree close to the
wall. At the same moment, advancing towards them came the sound of
Rachel's voice caroling an old English song. Now there is nothing in the
least wrong or unorthodox in standing under an orange tree, yet the
instant Irene glimpsed Mabel's face she was certain her schoolmate was
in that particular spot for some reason the reverse of good. She looked
uneasily at Irene, glanced in Rachel's direction, seemed to hesitate,
and finally took to her heels and bolted away through the bushes. Next
minute, over the top of the high wall descended a little parcel. It
caught in the branches of the orange tree, fell to the ground, and
rolled under a clump of cabbages. Irene took no notice, and sauntered on
in the direction of Rachel, but when the prefect had passed out of sight
she returned, groped among the vegetables, found the parcel, and slipped
it into her packet.
"Miss Mabel Hughes, I believe I've caught you tripping this time," she
chuckled. "I must send out the fiery cross and call an immediate meeting
of the Camellia Buds."
Among the secret practices of the sorority was a private signal only to
be used in times of urgent necessity. It had been suggested by Jess
Cameron, who took the idea from _The Lady of the Lake_, in which poem a
gathering of the clan is proclaimed by a runner bearing a cross of wood
charred in the fire. Two burnt matches fastened together with thread
served the Camellia Buds for their token, and it was the strictest rite
of their order that any one receiving this cryptic symbol must
immediately leave whatever she happened to be doing and proceed
post-haste to the rendezvous.
So promptly did the members of the society respond to the summons that
within ten minutes of the issue of the fiery cross they were assembled
in the summer-house in a state of much expectancy. Irene explained how a
parcel had been thrown over the wall, evidently for Mabel, who
undoubtedly had been standing waiting for it. It was not addressed to
Mabel, however, and as it bore no direction at all on the outside the
Camellia Buds considered themselves justified in opening it. It
contained a package of cheap chocolate, and a letter written in a
foreign hand in rather bad English.
_Beautiful Signorina_,
_Make me the compliment to accept of me this few
chocolate. I like the letter you gave to me on
Sunday. I will again present myself near to the
hotel to wait upon you as you pass. Accept I pray
you the assurance of my profoundest respects._
EMANUELE SUTONI.
"Who is Emanuele Sutoni?" gasped Delia. "And what's he got to do with
us?"
"Nothing to do with us," frowned Jess. "But I'm afraid Mabel has been
trying to get up some silly love affair. If Miss Morley or Miss Rodgers
found this out she'd be expelled."
"What are we going to do about it? Tell Rachel?"
"I don't think so," pondered Jess. "You see, of course, we're perfectly
certain among ourselves that the letter was meant for Mabel, but it
isn't addressed to her so there's no real evidence. Not enough to
convince Rachel. It would be better really to tell her we've found out
and that she's got to stop it."
"I know! Let's tar and feather her!" squealed Peachy excitedly. "That's
the best way to frighten her. Of course, I don't mean _real_ tar, but
soap does just as well. She thoroughly deserves it. I vote we do it
to-night. We'll hold an inquisition in her dormitory. It will be easy
enough to square Elsie."
Peachy's grim idea appealed to the Camellia Buds. They considered it was
time that a public demonstration was made against Mabel, whose general
behavior was very unworthy of the traditions of the Villa Camellia. They
decided to have their tribunal immediately after the lights were turned
out, while the prefects, who sat up later than the Transition, were
still downstairs, and the mistresses were having cocoa in Miss Rodgers'
study. The affair was to be a surprise for Mabel, but as Elsie also
slept in the same dormitory it was necessary to secure her coöperation,
in case she might give the alarm and summon a prefect. Elsie, however,
proved an easily won ally.
"I can't bear Mabel," she assured Irene. "You may do anything you like
to her as far as I'm concerned. I shall pretend to be asleep. Monica and
Rosamonde and Winnie can't stand her either. I don't mind telling you
that we're going to resign from the Starry Circle and found a new
sorority of our own. It isn't good enough to be mixed up with such girls
as Mabel and Bertha."
"I'm glad you've found them out," said Irene. "It was high time somebody
made a protest."
The four occupants of dormitory 3 went to bed as usual that night, but
as soon as the lights were out Lorna and Irene put on their
dressing-gowns and stockings, and slipped into the bathroom. Here they
hastily completed the details of their costumes in company with the rest
of the Camellia Buds, who had rallied for the occasion. Three minutes
afterwards a strange procession entered dormitory 3. Ten dressing-gowned
figures, each wearing a black mask and holding a piece of lighted candle
in her hand, startled the astonished eyes of Mabel Hughes, who sat up in
bed to stare at them.
"What's all this about?" she asked.
"We've come here to hold an inquisition on your conduct," replied a
solemn voice from behind one of the black masks. "Will you kindly get
out of bed and seat yourself upon this chair. We should be sorry to use
force, but I warn you you'll have to obey us."
Looking a little scared Mabel apparently thought discretion the better
part of valor. She rose, put on her dressing-gown, and took the seat
indicated. Her inquisitors grouped themselves opposite, placing their
candles in a row upon the mantelpiece. Their spokeswoman, unfolding a
large sheet of paper, proceeded to read the indictment.
_This is to tell all whom it may concern
that Mabel Hughes, having broken every
rule of decent and orderly behavior, and
being no longer worthy of the name of
gentlewoman, is here arraigned on the
following charges:_
_1. That she habitually takes advantage
of and ill-treats the juniors when
opportunity occurs._
_2. That she cheats abominably at her
work._
_3. That she endeavors to persuade
others to cheat._
_4. That she degrades the name of the
Villa Camellia by receiving letters
which are thrown to her over the wall,
and by handing answers to them on her
way to church._
Mabel, who had smiled scornfully at the first three charges, changed
color at the fourth.
"What do you know about letters?" she challenged sharply.
"We know all," ventured the solemn voice. "You had better confess at
once, or the affair with Emanuele will be exposed to the prefects."
"It's my own business," said Mabel sulkily.
"No, it isn't. It's ours as well, and the whole school's. We don't want
the Villa Camellia to be disgraced in the eyes of the town. You ought to
be ashamed of yourself. It's so _vulgar_. Now, will you promise to give
up all your bad habits and behave like a lady."
"I'll promise nothing," snapped Mabel.
"Then we shall be obliged to tar and feather you."
Mabel laughed, imagining it was an empty threat, but she was rapidly
undeceived. Two inquisitors, seizing her by the arms, held her tightly
in her chair, while several others smeared soap over her face and stuck
on feathers which they took out of a cushion. She would have screamed,
but every time she opened her mouth to do so she received a dab of soap
upon her tongue. When they considered her countenance was sufficiently
ornamented, they presented her with a looking-glass to view the effect.
"That's how we feel about it," the spokeswoman assured her. "This is
just to show you we won't stand your horrid ways. Will you promise now
to behave yourself, or do you want any more?"
Apparently Mabel had had enough. She seemed rather frightened. She
grumbled that she would agree to what they wished.
"Just jolly well take care that you keep your promise then," warned her
inquisitor. "If you begin any of your old tricks again we have evidence
against you, and we shall take it straight to Rachel. If I know anything
of Rachel she'll go to Miss Rodgers, and that means you're expelled. So
now you know! You'd better be careful, Mabel Hughes. That's all we came
to say. You may wash your face if you like before you get into bed
again."
The ten members of the inquisition, knowing that time was passing, and
that the prefects would soon be coming upstairs, judged it wise to break
up the meeting, and taking their candles beat a stately retreat to their
respective dormitories. Lorna and Irene, returning to their cubicles,
heard Elsie chuckling. She had not interfered in any way with the
performance, but it had evidently entertained her. She told the tale
next day to her friends, with the result that Ruth, Rosamonde, Winnie,
Monica, and Callie joined her in seceding from the Starry Circle,
leaving Mabel and Bertha as sole remaining representatives of that
sorority.
"We're fed up with you," Winnie assured the pair when they remonstrated.
"We're tired of your sneaking ways, and you may just keep them to
yourselves. We're not going to let you copy our exercises any more. And
if we see you taking those kids' biscuits again there'll be squalls. No,
we shan't tell you the name of our new sorority. We're not going to have
anything to do with you ever again. So there!"
Public opinion had for once triumphed on the right side, and Mabel and
Bertha, greatly discomfited, found their influence over the late Stars
was at an end. The threat of telling Rachel had frightened Mabel; she
was uncertain how much the Camellia Buds really knew, and judged it
discreet to drop her clandestine correspondence. She had no wish for the
matter to meet the ears of Miss Rodgers, who, she was well aware, would
take the most serious view of it. Though she cherished a grudge against
her late inquisitors, she submitted to their demands, and for the time
at any rate gave no outward cause for complaint.