had at Aunt Keziah's and Sally, I know, regretted that her education
kept her from joining ranks with the believers.
"Did you ever see anybody look so like himself? I have never seen a
Santa Claus before that did not have on an ugly false face--hideous
painted things that wouldn't fool a chicken," Sally began with her
accustomed volubility. "I can't quite make up my mind that you are not
Santy--"
"Well, don't make up your mind to any such treason. I am Santy!"
"Well, Santy or not, I am mighty glad to see all of you. Now you must
try some of my eggnog and fruit cake. Dr. Allison says my fruit cake is
the best he ever tasted and that it is so well mixed that it is as
digestible as sponge cake. My eggnog, too, can't be beat,--made of pure
cream and eggs that are so fresh they were warm when I broke them. I
waited for those finest Dominickers to get off their nests before I made
it. 'Tain't strong of liquor and won't hurt a baby. Jo, bring my best
Bohemian glasses. You'll find them on the tray in the dining room all
set out on the sideboard. Here's my cake and I am proud to cut it for
such company.
"Dr. Allison says he likes the looks of my cake. He says it looks like
chewing tobacco, it is so nice and black and fruity, and that it tastes
better than it looks. You can't trust all cooks with their fruit cake
because it is so dark-like that dirt don't show in it and sometimes
things that don't belong there get in it. I remember one time over at
Mrs. Purdy's (of course I don't mean to be gossiping about her now that
she is dead and gone)--but she cut a cake with all the airs and graces
of a good cake-maker, which she never was, and what should I find in my
piece--just one piece, mind you--but a shoe button and a bent pin. I
just thought to myself: 'Well, if that's what I found, God in Heaven
knows what I didn't find.' Now there ain't a thing in my cake but the
best ingredients, and I'll wager nobody will ever find anything in my
cooking foreign to the human digestion."
We were certain of it, but Sally did not give us time to express our
confidence. She plunged into a stream of eloquence concerning her
Dominickers and their superior brand of eggs, as she ladled out the
eggnog as smooth as a baby's cheek and as fluffy as a summer cloud.
"There are some that hold that a white Leghorn's eggs are more delicate
than any other kind, but I say there is a richness about an
old-fashioned Dominicker's eggs that nothing can come up to. What do you
want with an egg being too delicate, anyhow? Of course, for Angel's Food
they might be best, but I have never seen anything that an egg laid by
a Leghorn will do that a Dominicker's won't do just as well. Of course
nobody wants a duck egg or a goose egg for anything short of ginger
bread,--they are coarse! Now a hard boiled guinea egg is my favourite of
all eggs. I think a nice hot guinea egg, boiled until it is mealy--it
takes a good half hour--and then mashed up with good batter bread made
of the fresh meal, ground over at Macy's mill, provided the batter bread
is made the right way,--none of your batter bread raised with baking
powders, but my kind, raised with eggs and plenty of them, well beaten
and baked quickly,--I do say that there is no breakfast better."
The strangest thing about Sally Winn was that she longed for company,
not for the good she might get out of it but just so she could pour
forth her soul in conversation. We might just as well have been dumb for
all she got from us, but all the time we were eating her truly wonderful
cake and drinking her eggnog that even she could not praise according to
its deserts, she regaled us with a stream of conversation that made our
heads swim.
"I understand poor Jo better now," whispered Dee to me. "How can he ever
talk? No wonder! He gets out of the habit at home and can't get in it
when he goes away."
"Tell Mammy Susan I have got a good starting of rose geranium for her. I
would have sent it over by Jo this morning but I was so afraid it might
be too cold for it. It looks like Mammy Susan has all the luck with
citronella and I have luck with rose geranium. My bush is so big it
looks like I'll have to get Jo's watering tub from the barn to plant it
in. It has long out-grown its pot. I certainly do like to have plenty of
healthy rose geranium on hand when I make apple jelly. Nothing gives it
the flavour that a leaf of rose geranium will,--just pour the boiling
jelly over a leaf--one to each glass."
"That sounds fine!" exclaimed Santa Claus. "I don't think I ever tasted
it."
"Wait a minute! I am going to fix one up for you to take back to
Richmond and next summer when I make my jelly, I'll make some for you.
It comes in mighty handy for sudden company." Sally bustled off and came
back bearing a tumbler of jelly that would have taken a prize at any
fair in the world, I feel sure.
"Here it is!" she panted. "Jo is that fond of it that I sometimes hate
to think of leaving him because I don't know who will ever make it to
suit him."
"But are you thinking of leaving him?" questioned Mr. Tucker.
"Dying! I mean dying!"
"Oh, but you look so well!"
"I think so, too, Sally," I ventured. "You are getting to be right fat."
"Ah, my dear, that has nothing to do with health. The fatter I get the
more of me there is to feel bad. I won't be long for this world, I am
thankful to say. Fat! Why, I have seen many a fat corpse--more fat ones
than lean ones." We could not gainsay such gruesome statistics, but I
told her that Father had sent her a prescription that she must take
immediately without fail.
"And give up the pink medicine?"
"He says you won't need that for to-day, that is, if you take the other.
Father says you are to bundle up and come over to Bracken for dinner. Jo
and Mr. Kent are to come, too, of course, and that will mean that you
will have no household cares. He says you must come. It is the doctor's
orders."
"Well, if I must, I must!" she sighed. "I have great faith in Dr.
Allison and am sure he would not prescribe something that would hurt
me," and so Sally, with many layers of wraps enveloping her already
portly person, and, clasping in her arms the rose geranium for Mammy
Susan, was bundled into Jo's already overflowing sleigh and we merrily
started off for Bracken.
A very funny thing happened on the way, at least it turned out to be
funny although it might have been very serious. Dee, who was on the
front seat between Wink and Jo, insisted upon driving. Sally, on the
back seat with Dum and Mr. Kent, was so wrapped up that she was
oblivious to the speed that the two spirited horses were making. Of
course Peg was ready for a race and so were all of us and race we did
for most of the trip home. Jo's horses were young and good trotters and
Dee, with blazing eyes and glowing cheeks, let them go as fast as they
wanted to. My old Peg had seen better days as a racer but had the
advantage of a cutter and a small load and so made the best of it. I
hugged the road and kept it, while Zebedee hurled defiance at our
pursuers.
About an eighth of a mile before the public road turned into the avenue
at Bracken, Dee saw a chance to catch up with us and pass us. There was
a smooth, unbroken stretch of snow that she thought was part of the road
and she swerved her team to cut through it and get in the lead--but
snow, like Charity, covers a multitude of sins. This pure mantle covered
a great gully. The snow had drifted to that side of the road and the
gully was filled and then neatly smoothed over. There was nothing to
warn a person unacquainted with the road. Jo was evidently so taken up
with Dee's glowing countenance that he was paying no attention to where
she was taking them, when over they went as quietly and peacefully as
turning over in bed.
The horses were wonderful. They stopped stock-still. The near one was
dragged over by the weight of the sleigh but he lay quite still. Peg
behaved like the almost thoroughbred she is and not only stood quietly
but gave a ringing neigh of encouragement to the other horses.
Zebedee and I were out in a jiffy and running to the assistance of the
turnover. I deemed it wiser for me to attend to the horses. If they had
struggled, it might have been quite serious. I loosened the traces on
the one who had been able to keep his feet, and then the fallen one, and
as soon as I had accomplished that, I caught hold of the bridle and got
him up in no time. He was not hurt at all. Zebedee was digging out the
crowd, who had, one and all, taken headers. A waving sea of legs
presented itself to our astonished gaze. One by one they scrambled out,
all looking more or less sheepish but all rosy and ready to laugh if
they could just be reassured that no one was hurt.
"Jo! Jo! Pull me out! The grey legs are mine!" came in muffled tones
from the deepest part of the drift where two fat legs encased in
homemade grey woolen stockings were wildly beating the air.
"Sally!" we cried, and in a moment we had her out.
"Oh, Lord!" I groaned. "Poor Father and more pink medicine!" but not a
bit of it! Sally was as game as the rest of them, and came up smiling
and happy when she, too, found no one was hurt. The snow was as dry as
powder and shook off them like so much flour. The sleigh was righted in
short order and they all clambered back. Dee penitently handed the reins
to Jo.
"I am not to be trusted. You had better drive."
"Not at all! No one could have told that was not perfectly good road. I
should have been looking at the road instead of--ahem--ahem--instead
of--instead--of--that buzzard, sailing down there," pointing to one of
the denizens of the air who had made his appearance in the sky almost as
though he had expected some pickings from our turnover.
"Humph! Buzzard, indeed!" grunted Sally. "If I was Miss Dee I shouldn't
thank you to be a calling me a buzzard." Which went to show that Sally
was not so much wrapped up that she could not see what was right in
front of her.
What a dinner we did have! Tweedles and I often spoke of it when we were
back at school, especially on the veal pot-pie days. The table was
resplendent with its fine old damask and silver and with its load of
good things.
"That there gobbler," said Mammy Susan, pointing with pride at the king
of the feast sitting on his parsley throne, "don't weigh a ounce less 'n
twenty pounds. He was the greediest one of the whole flock an' now see
what he done come to! He was always the struttinest fowl and looks lak
he is still some pompous with his bosom chuck full of chestnuts."
Blanche and Bill were to wait on the table, but Mammy Susan had to come
into the dining room to see that everything went off in proper style.
She stood back like a head waiter in some fine restaurant and directed
her minions with the airs of a despot.
"Pass that ther macaroni to Miss Dum!" would come in a sibilant whisper.
And then as Bill would prance by the old woman with all of the style he
had learned on the Mississippi steamboat, she would say in stern
undertones: "Don't wait fer folks to lick they plates befo' you gib um a
sicond help."
"Blanche, gib Miss Sally Winn some 'scalloped oyschters, and there is
Mr. Tucker 'thout a livin' thing on his plate."
Eating was not the only thing we did at that feast. We talked and
laughed and cracked jokes until poor Sally Winn forgot all about dying
and I think realized there was something in life, after all. What we had
for that Christmas dinner was no doubt what every family in the United
States who could have it was having, but it seemed to us to be better,
and I believe it was. Mammy Susan had a witch's wand to stir things with
and whatever she touched was perfect. Her cranberry sauce always jelled;
her candied sweet potatoes were only equalled by marrons glace, so
Zebedee said. The cheese on her macaroni always browned just right; and
her mashed potatoes always looked like banks of snowy clouds. She seemed
to have the power of glorifying egg plant and salsify so that persons
often asked what the delicious thing was they were eating.
"Whew!" ejaculated Zebedee, "I am certainly glad I did not have to eat
in my embonpoint. I would have touched the table long ago and would have
had to stop. As it is, I can still eat about three inches without having
a collision."
Our day passed in feasting and merry making. The walls of Bracken rang
with merriment. Even Father came out of his book and got quite gay.
Sally Winn forgot to hold her heart and laughed like a girl at the
jests.
"It will be fatal to sit down after such a dinner," declared Dee. "We
had better go out and coast and jolt it down."
There was only one small sled, left from my childhood, but the attic was
full of broken chairs, and in a few minutes the eager males had
fashioned make-shift coasters out of old rockers and chair backs.
"They are not very elegant but they will slide down the hill, which is
the main thing," said Wink, as he lay flat on his stomach and whizzed
down the long hill to the spring.
We had a chair back apiece and so did not have to wait turns nor did we
have to go double. I must say I like to coast by myself and guide my own
sled. The impromptu sleds were not so very strong and it was much safer
not to overload. We coasted until the long hill was as slick as glass
and, with the exception of an occasional turnover, there were no
casualties.
Father and Sally Winn watched us from the library window but after a
while they came out, Sally bundled up to within an inch of her life, and
what should they do but mount some chair backs and get in the game. Jo
Winn fell off his sled when he saw his invalid sister, who only the
night before had been on the point of shuffling off this mortal coil,
actually straddling a chair back and taking the hill like a native of
Switzerland.
"This is a new prescription I have given Sally," whispered Father to Jo.
"She is to coast every day as long as the snow lasts, and after it melts
we are to think of some other form of exercise for her."
"How about horse-back riding?" I suggested. "Jo's old Bess is just like
a comfortable rocker."
"The very thing!" exclaimed Father. "Let her ride around the yard for a
few days until she gains confidence, and then she can go on a regular
ride. Go to Milton for the mail and even come over here after a little."
"Must we still keep up the pink medicine?" asked Jo.
"Oh, well! Give it to her in emergencies, but not too freely."
Jo had a twinkle in his eye. He knew that the pink medicine was made of
perfectly good pump water with a little colouring matter and enough
bromide to quiet the nerves of an oyster.
"This Christmas has done something for Sally if for no one else," said
Father. "It has taught her that she can go heels over head in the snow
without affecting her heart; that she can eat as good a dinner as the
next without feeling bad; and that she can coast down a hill without
turning a hair."
I looked at Sally settling herself on a chair back that Wink had kindly
pulled up the hill for her. Sticking out her fat, woolly, grey legs on
each side, she took the hill in great shape. I hoped she was cured of
her imaginary ailments and would let my dear Father get many a good
night's rest by not sending for him every time she felt her heart beat.
CHAPTER XIX.
BACK IN THE TREAD-MILL.
That is the way we looked on going back to school. It was not really a
tread-mill, nothing nearly so dreadful, but we considered ourselves very
much put upon that the holidays could not last forever, that books had
to be studied, and rules either obeyed or punishments meted out if they
were broken.
We had gone home knowing that demerits were going to have to be worked
off after the holidays, but as I have said before, it had had no more
effect on our spirits than a threat of hell fire would have on a
new-born babe. But babies must grow up and time will pass and holidays
come to an end, and here we were paying up for our foolishness on our
last night at school before Christmas.
Almost all the Junior class was in bad, and misery loves company, so we
lightened our labours all we could with sly jests and notes written to
each other instead of the pages of dictionary we were supposed to be
copying.
Of all punishments, copying dictionary seems to me to be the most
futile. It was disagreeable enough, but of course punishments should be
that, but it was not only disagreeable but such a terrible waste of
time. I did not mind learning hymns, especially if I already knew them,
but the pages of dictionary almost persuaded me to behave myself,--not
quite, though.
"When we get out of this, let's be either very good or very careful,"
said Dum, as we finished up our first day in durance vile while the rest
of the school, all the good girls, had gone for a nice walk in the
woods. "I am liable to do something desperate if I get in bad again."
"I am going to try," declared Mary, very penitent after having to
memorize a very long and very lugubrious hymn. "It may not pay to be
good, but you've certainly got to pay to be bad."
All of us tried to be good. We studied like Trojans (not that Trojans
ever did study as far as I know). I learned my history by heart and
actually won a smile of approval from Miss Plympton. I knuckled down to
geometry and if the figure was drawn exactly as it was in the book and
the same letters were used to designate the angles, I got on swimmingly.
A slight change of letter upset me considerably, however. I never could
understand as I had under Miss Cox's reign. I was doing algebra as well,
although the Juniors were supposed to be through with that delectable
study; but I had started out so far behind that I had to keep on with it
if I ever hoped to get my degree.
English under Miss Ball continued to be delightful and all of us did
good work with her. She had a power of making knowledge desirable by
making it interesting, and she made literature delightful because she
loved it herself and was never bored. The parallel reading she gave us
to do was well chosen and broadening. One thing that especially pleased
me about Miss Ball was her cheerful outlook. She did not believe that
all good writing was through with,--that literature had died with
Tennyson and Thackeray. She read modern poets with as much pleasure as
Father himself and actually gave some of the modern novels for parallel
reading. Nor did she scorn the five cent magazines.
She encouraged us to do original work. It was a great relief to have a
teacher say: "Write what suits you," rather than to give out one of the
time-honoured hackneyed themes,--such as: My Afternoon Walk, or A Quiet
Sunday Morning, or Thoughts on a Sunset.
My head was so full of plots I could hardly concentrate on one. The
trouble was I so often found my plot not to be so very original after
all. Miss Ball would say a story was very good but point out its
similarity to noted productions, and I would realize that I had been
unconsciously influenced. She endeavoured to make us be ourselves at no
matter what cost. "A poor thing but mine own" was to be our motto.
"If you want to be successful be modern at least," she would say. "If
you must imitate any one, imitate O. Henry or Ferber, even Montagu
Glass. Don't try to write like Edgar Allan Poe. If you are going to
write like him, you will do it, anyhow, and a poor imitation of him is
terrible. If any of you want to make a living with writing find out what
the public likes and what the magazine editors want and do that just as
well as you can do it. You need not feel that you are hitching Pegasus
to a plough and even if you do, ploughing is a very worthy occupation
and there is poetry in it if taken properly." Then she read us some from
Masefield's "Everlasting Mercy":
"The past was faded like a dream,
There came the jingling of a team,
A ploughman's voice, a clink of chain,
Slow hoofs, and harness under strain.
Up the slow slope a team came bowing,
Old Callow at his autumn ploughing,
Old Callow, stooped above the hales,
Ploughing the stubble into wales.
His grave eyes looking straight ahead,
Shearing a long straight furrow red;
His plough-foot high to give it earth
To bring new food for men to birth.
O wet red swathe of earth laid bare,
O truth, O strength, O gleaming share,
O patient eyes that watch the goal,
O ploughman of the sinner's soul.
O Jesus, drive the coulter deep
To plough my living man from sleep."
"If you can hitch your Pegasus to a plough and 'bring new food for men
to birth' you have done a better deed than if you had soared in the
skies all the time in the wake of some great men. I consider O. Henry an
unconscious philanthropist. He has opened our eyes to the charm of the
usual."
Such lessons as these gave us strength to bear with the extreme
boresomeness of other classes.
We worked off the demerits against us, and by being both good and
careful we got no more to sadden our days. Our dummies were neatly
folded up and seldom brought out. Just to show that we were still human
beings, we did have an occasional spread, and once Miss Plympton let
Tweedles and me go under the chaperonage of Miss Ball down to tea with
dear old Captain Pat Leahy, the one-legged gate keeper at the crossing.
He was so glad to see us he almost wept. He had sent us a formal
invitation but doubted Miss Plympton's giving her consent.
"An' the poosies have been a lickin' uv their furrr all morning to get
rready for the coompany an' I got me neighbourr, Mrs. Rooney, to bake me
a poond cake for tay."
"Why, Captain, we did not dream you would go to any trouble for us. But
we certainly do adore pound cake, and isn't that a beauty?" enthused
Dee.
The little table was set ready for tea. You remember how the Captain's
gate house looked. It was very tiny, so tiny that you did not see how
any one could live in it, but he declared he had more room than he
needed. The lower berth from a wrecked Pullman served him as seat by day
and bed by night. A doll-baby-sized cooking stove, very shiny and black,
was at one side, while a shelf over it was covered with all the china
and cooking utensils he needed. A little table, just like the one on
sleepers, was hooked in between the seats and a very dainty repast was
spread thereon. There were at least a dozen cats but all of them were
handsome and healthy and very polite. There had been eight the winter
before, counting Oliver, the one we took back to Captain Leahy.
"They will mooltiply an' I have a harrd time findin' good homes for
thim. Bett here behind the stove, has presinted Oliverr wid some schtip
brothers and sisters. The good Lorrd knows what I am to do wid 'em."
"Please, please let me hold some of them!" and Dee was down on her knees
in the corner near Bett's bed. "Look! Look! Their eyes are open! Four of
them! Oh, I do want all of them so bad."
Bett seemed perfectly willing to trust Dee with an armful of kittens,
indeed I think she was rather relieved to be rid of the care of them for
a while, as she sidled out of the door and went trotting up the road,
her large handsome tail waving joyously.
"Now she's gone to the cloob or maybe to a suffragette meetin'. Poor
Bett has a schtoopid life, confined as she is to rraisin' sooch larrge
families," and the old man gave one of his rich vibrant laughs that
warmed the cockles of your heart.
We talked of Miss Peyton and how much we liked her, but since Miss Ball
was a member of the faculty, we refrained from our criticisms of Miss
Plympton, although we knew that Captain Leahy was dying to hear all
about our latest scrapes and how we got out of them and what we had to
say of our stern principal. She really was not nearly so stern as we
gave her credit for, but we were nothing but girls and young people are
always extreme in their opinions. Everybody is either perfectly lovely
or perfectly horrid in their eyes. When I look back on my days at
Gresham I realize that Miss Plympton's chief fault was that she had no
humour, and surely lacking that God-given attribute was not her fault.
We enjoyed that tea greatly. Captain Leahy certainly had his share and
more of humour and his keen comments were a never failing source of
delight. Miss Ball was young and full of spirits and good stories, and
the little gate house actually rocked with laughter.
We devoured every crumb of Mrs. Rooney's pound cake and the host had to
fill his little blue tea pot three times before our thirst was quenched.
Of course Dee had to save a little milk for the kittens and Captain
Leahy seemed to think it was perfectly _au fait_ for her to let them lap
from her saucer, although Dum and I are of one mind about eating at the
table with cats. Now I don't mind a dog at the table at all, provided it
is a polite dog who does not help himself until he is told to; but cats!
Ugh! They are entirely too promiscuous, as Mammy Susan says.
CHAPTER XX.
THE FIRE DRILL.
"Young ladies," said Miss Plympton one morning in March, "I fear that in
a measure I have been lax in certain duties imposed upon the pupils of
Gresham."
A groan from somewhere in chapel, no one knew just where, was the
eloquent response to this statement. We had actually passed January and
February and plunged into the middle of March without getting into any
very bad messes. The philosophical among us could look forward to the
first of June and release from the stringent rules that bound us. I, for
one, was not philosophical at all but had a feeling that I was to spend
the rest of my life doing things by the clock and knowing a year ahead
just what I was to have to eat for every meal.
I know I do a lot of talking about food but it seems to me that
something you have to contemplate three times a day is a rather
important factor in life. I used to feel if they would only get mixed up
and give us on Tuesday what they usually gave on Wednesday that I could
bear it better.
"The duty of which I speak," continued Miss Plympton, ignoring the
groan, "is the fire drill that should be regularly practiced and, I
regret to say, has not been. The building is as nearly as possible a
fire-proof one. Nevertheless, I deem it prudent that we engage in this
drill."
"What a bore!" growled some of the girls.
Others welcomed the news with pleasure, "Anything for a change!"
"The fire alarm, as all of you perhaps know, is six short taps of the
gong--a pause--and six more. When the alarm rings, which of course it
will do without warning, I expect every pupil in the school to get out
of the building with as little noise and confusion as possible. Indeed I
demand no noise at all and no confusion. No one is to go to her room for
any purpose whatsoever if the fire alarm should ring while she is in
class or otherwise employed. If she should be in her room, she is to
leave it as expeditiously as possible and not return to it until
permission is given."
"And let my deer skin and pictures burn up?" exclaimed Dum under her
breath. "Nit!"
"'Tain't a real fire, goosey!" said Dee.
"Yes, but it might be."
"Silence!" tapped Miss Plympton. "Now I have warned you of an alarm in
the near future and I want to see who is to show the most presence of
mind. I want to see who will be out of the building first but with no
noise or confusion."
"You notice she didn't say how she required us to get out of the
building, by what route, I mean, and you watch me! I am going to get out
my own way," Dum whispered to me as we were dismissed to our class
rooms.
"Well, I'm game. I'll go any way you do."
"Good! I bet you will, and of course Dee will, too."
We feverishly awaited the threatened alarm and the fire drill that was
to follow. Gresham was a big building and the 125 girls in it should be
able to get out without any great confusion.
"If they only ring it while we are in our rooms we can work our scheme
and beat all the girls to the open," said Dum.
We had decided not to let Mary and Annie in on our plan as Annie was
trying very hard not to get any demerits. Mr. Pore treated bad marks on
a report very seriously, while our dear fathers did not look upon a bad
mark as something that could not be lived down.
"DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG!" a pause and then six more dongs.
It was a few minutes before supper, so close to it, in fact, that for a
moment we thought it was the gong for that frugal repast. We were just
trying to doll up a bit after a very strenuous game of tennis, the first
of the season as the courts had not been fit to use because of the many
rains we had been deluged with. We had had some sheets tied together for
days, ever since Miss Plympton had given warning about the fire drill.
We had determined to astonish and delight her by the quiet and orderly
way we would get out of the building. Dum began rapidly taking down
pictures and wrapping them up in her beloved deer skin, the one she had
shot and Zebedee had tanned and made into a rug for her. Dee tied the
sheets tightly to the radiator while I gathered up the bits of jewelry
and knotted them in a handkerchief. This we had rehearsed and knew how
to do it in a moment. When Dee got the sheets tied, we were ready for
the descent. Dum was to go first, as it was her scheme. With her bundle
flung over her back by a strap, she grasped the improvised life line and
slid safely to the ground. I followed, giggling so I came very near
losing my grip. When I got to the end of the last sheet, I must say I
hated to let go. I looked down and the ground seemed miles away. It was
really only about six feet. Dee had taken up more in the knot she had
tied around the radiator than we had allowed for in our calculations.
"Drop," came hoarsely from Dum. So drop I did, wrenching my ankle
painfully in the fall.
Dee came down like a movie actress and then we scurried around the
house in time to beat all the whole school out on the lawn. My ankle
hurt like fury but I grinned and bore it. While Miss Plympton had not
designated the manner of our exit from the building, we well knew that
if she got on to our mode of egress we would hear from her and that not
in endearing terms.
She was standing near the great front door on the gallery, but it was
dusk and we were able to sidle close to the wall and have all the
appearance of coming out of the building.
"Why, young ladies, you are very prompt," she said approvingly. "Are the
inmates on your floor out of their rooms?"
"We--we--we don't know."
"We reckon they are."
"We did not stop to see."
The girls by this time came trooping out, some of them half dressed,
getting ready for supper as they were when the gong sounded. They were
very gay until they saw Miss Plympton; then they sobered down.
Several of the more excitable ones were weeping, certain it was a real
fire.
Mary and Annie were the very last to appear. They, it seemed, had lost
much time trying to find us. They were sure we would not have gone
without warning them and so would not desert us.
"We looked everywhere for you!" cried Mary when she spied us. "Where on
earth have you been?"
"Shhh! We'll tell you later!" I whispered.
Annie was much flushed and excited and looked as though she, too, had
feared it was a real fire.
"I hated to leave my box," she said to me in a low tone. "You see, those
are all the clothes I have and all I'll be likely to have for many a
day. I was afraid it was a real fire and was very much frightened about
you, my friends." The poor little thing burst out crying and we all
turned in and comforted her till she began to laugh.
All this time my ankle was killing me. I stood on one foot but the
throbbing was intense, and then I knew the time was coming when Miss
Plympton would order us back into the building, and how I was to walk I
did not see. It had been all I could do to get from around the corner of
the school after my fatal drop, and now that the excitement that had
buoyed me up had subsided and I knew I was going to have to walk on cold
facts, I did not see how it could be done. I was game, game enough for
anything. What I dreaded most of all was giving Tweedles away. Miss
Plympton had seen us arrive together and if I had a sprained ankle,
whatever I had done to get it they must have done, too.
"As soon as Lady Plympton gives the command, fly up to 117 and pull in
the sheets," I whispered to Dum. "I've hurt my ankle and shall have to
take things easy. Dee will help me get in, and please whisper to Mary
Flannagan to get on my other side." I thought it better to have Dee stay
behind where some sort of ready finesse might be needed.
They got me in--I don't know just how. I have never imagined greater
agony than I went through. I never uttered a single groan, however,
although I felt like shrieking. Before we made our painful way to the
stairs, Miss Plympton disappeared into the office, and then Mary and Dee
picked me up bodaciously, making a chair with their hands, and they got
me up to 117 in short order. The girls who were on our corridor just
thought it was part of our monkey shines and did not question the
reason.
When I got to 117, of course I fainted. That was what I had been
expecting to do all the time. It was a mercy I had not done it before. I
had felt the cold sweat breaking out on my upper lip, which is a sure
forerunner of a faint. I had never really fainted before. I had been
knocked silly several times, once on the ice when Mabel Binks had bumped
into me and knocked me down, but this faint was one that was simply the
outcome of pain.
It was a blessed relief from the agony I had been in and I did not thank
whoever it was that put household ammonia under my nose and doused my
head with cold water. I felt as though I should like to stay faint
forever.
"Did you get the sheets in out of the window?" I stammered when I
struggled back to life.
"Yes! Yes!" and a relieved giggle from Dum.
Dee was busy turning over the leaves in her "First Aid to the Injured."
"Let her lie down, put a pillow under her heart! There! Now which foot
is it?"
"Never mind which foot it is now! There goes the supper gong! Annie, you
and Mary had better skidoo out of this room or you'll get so many
demerits you won't be out of bounds to go home in June. Dee, you just
unlace my left shoe and let me keep it upon the bed. Dum, please get out
my nightie for me and then all of you go down to supper and tell the
powers that be that poor little Page Allison was so excited over the
fire drill that she had hysterics and had to go to bed without her
supper." The long speech was too much for me and I came near going off
again. "Go on! If you don't, we'll all get found out and then what?"
Tweedles said they had never sat through such an interminable meal as
that one.
"Nothing but soda biscuit and stewed prunes and corn beef hash! But you
would have thought it was the finest course dinner it took so long!"
gasped Dee. "Let me see your poor foot. Gee, it's swollen!"
"Isn't it a blessing it's Saturday night and no study hour? Now Dee and
I can wait on you and get you comfy."
"But, Dum, I don't want to keep you from dancing in the Gym. It is lots
of fun and you know it."
"Fun much! How could I enjoy myself when I know you are up here
suffering?"
"Well!" said Dee, consulting her book again, "the first thing is to soak
it in very hot water, as hot as you can stand it. Go on, Dum, and fill
our pitcher before the once-a-weekers get started on their tub night
orgy." We always called the girls who took baths only on Saturday night
the "once-a-weekers."
My injured member was put to soak in such hot water that I trembled for
my toe nails. Dee stood by with a pitcher ready to pour more in and
"hot" it up as soon as it got to the bearing point. After a good half
hour of soaking, Dee poured cold water over it and then put on as neat a
bandage as any surgeon could have done I feel sure. It seemed too tight
to me, but Dee insisted that it would loosen up and I must bear it
tight.
"You know if a doctor had hold of you he would put it in plaster. I am
afraid maybe we ought to 'fess up and call in a doctor. It might be a
very serious thing to neglect it."
"Nonsense! I trust your bandaging more than I would old Dr.
Stick-in-the-mud's, here at Gresham. You know he would not do anything
quite so modern as put it in plaster."
Dee carried the bandage well up on my leg to keep it from puffing out
over the top and then I was put tenderly to bed.
"I can't see that because I've got a sore foot it is any reason I should
have to go hungry," I whined. "I am so empty I could easily eat up my
bandage."
"Don't you dare!"
"Oh, honey, I am so sorry! I don't know why we did not think to sneak
you something. You looked so pale and wan when we left you to go to
supper that somehow I never connected you with the thought of food. To
think of your being hungry!" and Dum's hazel eyes got moist.
"But then's then and now's now! I reckon I can hold out 'til morning,
however."
One of the peculiarities of boarding school is that if you are sick at
all you are supposed to be too sick to eat. If you are really very bad
off, so far gone you have to be put in the hospital, then you are fed
up. If a girl skips a meal from indisposition, nothing is done about her
food by the housekeeper, but if her roommate chooses to sneak some of
her own supply up to the sufferer, although it is supposed to be against
the rules to take any food from the table, at a time like that the
infringement is winked at.
The girls were afraid to get out the alcohol lamp and make me a cup of
instantaneous chocolate as we were almost sure one of the teachers would
come to see how I was before they turned in for the night. As it was,
they had hardly got the bowl of hot water out of the way and the room
to rights before Miss Ball knocked on the door. She had a dainty tray of
food for me.
"I didn't think hysterics would last so long you would not want
something to eat, Page," she said archly, laying a little stress on
hysterics. "I cooked this for you on my chafing dish."
The teachers, of course, used alcohol lamps all they chose. It was a
nice cup of chocolate, with a marshmallow on top in lieu of whipped
cream, two shirred eggs and a stack of buttered crackers.
"Oh, Miss Ball, you are so good!"
We felt sneaky indeed not to tell Miss Ball the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth concerning our escapade, but we knew it would
be her duty to report us and the chances were she would do her duty. So
we kept mum while I devoured the very good supper.
I was pretty certain that Miss Ball did not give very much credence to
the hysterics dodge. She knew me too well. I was not the hysterical
type. She was too much of a lady, however, to question me and
understood girls well enough to know when to let them alone.
"Isn't she a peach, though?" was Dee's comment after the kind young
teacher had gone off bearing the empty tray. I had devoured the last
crumb, feeling much better in consequence.
"Page," whispered Dum, after lights were out, "do you think you will be
able to bear your foot to the ground by to-morrow?"
"I can't tell. I am feeling lots better now and there is no telling what
a night's rest will do for me. We shall just have to take no thought of
to-morrow. 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'"
"Yes, just let to-morrow look after itself," yawned Dee. "We got out of
the window and beat all the girls out of the building, and if one of us
got a sprained ankle in consequence, we still have the glory of being
out first and the thrill is still with me of sliding down that sheet.
I'd like to do it again. That reminds me, I have not had time to untie
the sheets. I'll do it in the morning to destroy all traces. Good ni--"
But all of us were asleep before she got out the ght.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE REALITY.
We all slept heavily. It had been an exciting evening and weariness was
the result. I dreamed a terrible dream: that I was trying to get out of
a fire and one leg was tied to the bed. In my struggles to pull myself
loose, I awakened and found the matter was that my whole leg had gone to
sleep by reason of the very tight bandage. I rubbed it back to
consciousness and then determined to see if I could bear my weight on
that foot. All of our machinations would be as naught if I should be
laid up indefinitely, as investigations would be sure to follow.
It was one of those hot, windy March nights. The wind had been blowing
so that the ground had dried up until it was dusty. My throat felt
parched and uncomfortable. I simply had to have a drink of water.
Should I call one of the girls? I knew they would be angry with me for
not doing it, but they were both sleeping so peacefully. I have always
hated to arouse any one from sleep. It seems such a shame to break up
the beatific state you are usually in when asleep. It fell to my lot to
awaken Tweedles every morning at school until I should think they would
have hated me. I put my bandaged foot to the floor and found I could
stand it. I reached for my bed-room slippers but they were, of course,
not in their accustomed place as I had not used them the night before,
so I slipped on my shoes. It was difficult to get the left one on, by
reason of the bandage plus the swelling, but I squeezed into it and
laced it up for support. Donning my kimono, I made a rather painful way
to the bath rooms. I wondered if I could walk without limping. Certainly
not to church. I began to plan a headache for next day that would excuse
me from everything. It seemed to me as I wandered down the dark hall
that I did have a little headache, a kind of heaviness that I might call
a headache without telling a very big fib. The water tasted mighty good
and I drank and drank.
What was that strange odour? It was burnt varnish! There was a faint
light in the bath room and another far off down the hall. By that light
I was sure I saw thin waves of smoke. I forgot my lame ankle and ran to
the top of the steps. I could smell the burnt varnish more plainly.
What should I do? Ring the fire alarm of course! I slid down the
bannisters, not only to expedite matters but to save my ankle that had
begun to remind me of its existence. The gong was just outside the
dining-room door.
"DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG!----DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG!
DONG!"
I rang it loud and clear; and then I thought maybe I had better repeat
it, so I did. From a perfectly still house a moment before, now
pandemonium reigned. The smoke was getting thicker. The smell of burnt
varnish was making a tightening in my throat. The wind had increased
and was blowing a perfect hurricane, as though it were in partnership
with the fire.
I ran upstairs thankful for the laced-up shoe. Our corridor was alive
with excited girls who seemed to have no idea what to do.
"Is it another fire drill?" asked one dazed freshman.
"Oh, yes! It's a fire drill with realistic smoke to make you hurry," I
called. "Get on your shoes and kimonos and coats just as fast as you can
and go out of the building!"
My words of command rather quieted the girls and some of them ran to do
what I had said, but some of them just went on squealing.
I found Tweedles sleeping sweetly. They were so in the habit of trusting
me to awaken them when the gong sounded in the morning that its ringing
in the middle of the night meant nothing to them.
"Fire! Fire!" I shouted as I tore the covers off of them. "Get up and
help! The hall is full of girls who need some one to lead them! The
whole school is full of smoke!"
They were awake in a moment and out of bed. There was no drowsy yawning
or stretching with Tweedles. They were either fast asleep or wide awake.
"Here, put on your shoes and wraps, something warm. You might as well be
burnt up as die of pneumonia." Dum's pack with her pictures and deer
skin had never been unrolled, so she strapped it on her back. "Don't
stop for clothes, I am afraid there isn't time. We can come back for
them if things are not as bad as I think." Dee had begun to empty bureau
drawers into a sheet and to take things out of the wardrobe.
"Well, I might as well throw this out the window for luck," she said,
tying the sheet up into what looked like a tramp's great bundle.
The hall was emptying as the girls raced down stairs, but an agonizing
shriek arose from the lower hall, which was now dense with smoke. The
front door could not be opened. It had been locked for the night and,
according to a rule Miss Plympton had made, the key had been hung in her
office. Of course no one knew this. There were many ways to get out of
Gresham, so many that it was perfectly silly not to be able to get out,
but that pack of silly, frightened girls came racing upstairs again. The
lower hall was now too full of smoke to venture down in it again, and a
lurid light was appearing, giving a decidedly sinister aspect to things.
Tweedles and I, with Mary and Annie, met the panic-stricken girls at the
top of the steps. "Why didn't you go out through the dining room?" I
asked sternly. I found that some one would have to be stern.
"Flames were there!" sobbed a great tall girl, the one from Texas.
Teachers in a fire are no more good than school girls. There were two on
our corridor in Carter Hall, but I saw one of them go frantically back
into her room and throw the bowl and pitcher out of her window and come
out carefully holding a down cushion.
Dee was quite collected and cool.
"Come into our room, 117," she commanded all the screaming crowd.
"There is no smoke there. You can get out of our window."
She immediately began tying the still-knotted sheets to our radiator and
with a sly look at me she pulled another sheet off of her bed, muttering
as she attached it to the others, "So it will be sure to reach the
ground."
"I can't go down there! I can't! I can't!" screamed the girl from Texas.
"Nonsense! Then let some one else go first! You go, Page!"
"I think I had better see if all the girls are out of their rooms first.
But I am not a bit afraid. See, twist the sheet around your arm this way
and then catch hold with the other hand and there you go!" and I sent a
spunky little freshman spinning to terra firma.
Dum and Dee got all the girls out in a few minutes, while I limped
through all the rooms to see that no one was left. The rooms were in the
greatest confusion imaginable as the inmates had endeavoured to save
their clothes and had tied them up in bundles and thrown them out of
the windows. I wondered if the other parts of the building had been
emptied, but felt that I had better get out myself as the smoke was so
thick you could cut it. Fortunately the moon was shining brightly for
the electric light fuses were burnt out, and but for the moon and a few
flash lights we would have been in total darkness.
All the girls were out but Tweedles and me.
"You next, Page! Be careful about your ankle, honey," and Dee tenderly
assisted me out the window.
I slid down, and thanks to the extra sheet, did not have to drop the six
feet that had been my undoing the evening before. When I got to the
ground I stood waiting for Tweedles to come down, but they had
disappeared from the window; and though I shouted and called them they
did not appear for several minutes. And then when they did come, what
did they let down from the window but Annie's precious trunk!
It gave me quite a shock. I was looking up, straining my eyes to see one
of my precious friends begin the descent, when the end of the trunk
appeared in the window and was gradually lowered by trunk straps they
had fastened together. The glowing faces of the girls looked down on me.
They were evidently having the time of their lives.
"Drag the trunk away from the building!" shouted Dum above the noise
made by 125 squealing, screaming girls and a raft of distracted
servants, together with the rather tardy arrival of the village fire
engine.
The building was now doomed. Nothing ever burns so brightly as a
fireproof building when once it starts. It is like the fury of a patient
man.
"Is every one out of the building?" called Dee.
"Where is Miss Plympton?" quavered the teacher who had thrown her bowl
and pitcher out of the window and was still hugging her down cushion.
Where? Where indeed? The thing had happened so quickly and everything
was in such an uproar that no one had thought of the principal. Could
she have slept through the gong and the subsequent noise?
"Miss Plympton! Where is Miss Plympton?" went up in a shout from the
crowd.
Her room was in a wing of the building that had not yet been touched by
flames, although the blinding smoke was everywhere. I went through an
agony of suspense that I hope never to have to experience again when my
dear Tuckers disappeared from the window of 117, evidently to go in
search of Miss Plympton.
They found her in her room sleeping sweetly. Fortunately her door was
not locked and they were able to get in. Dee told me she was lying on
her back sawing gourds to beat the band. Of course, any one accustomed
to sleeping in a noise such as she was making, could sleep through a
bombardment.
"Fire!" called Dum in her ear.
"Get up or you'll be burnt up!" roared Dee.
She turned over on her side and began that soft purring whistle that
snorers give when their tune is interrupted. They had finally to drag
her up and then they said she assumed some dignity, evidently thinking
it was one of those Tucker jokes that she never could see through. When
she realized the importance of hurry, she hurried so fast that she
neglected the formalities of a kimono. The smoke was very dense in the
hall as Tweedles half carried, half dragged her to their room, thinking
it was best to trust to the old reliable sheets to get them out of the
window rather than to attempt to descend from Miss Plympton's with the
delay that would be necessary to knot more sheets.
When they appeared at the window, a deafening shout went up from the
expectant crowd. This shout of praise was turned into hysterical
laughter when the figure of Miss Plympton was distinguished on the
window sill. She was clad and clad only in pink pajamas and red Romeo
slippers. Dum showed her how to twist the sheet around her right arm and
clasp it below tightly with her left and let herself down. She came down
like a game sport. If I had had a movie camera, I should have been
assured of a fortune right there. I have seen many a film, but never one
that equalled that scene of Miss Plympton coming down the sheets in her
pink pajamas and red Romeo slippers.
She was in a dazed state but quickly got her nerve. I gave her my coat
as I had on a warm kimono, and I felt that the dignity of my sex
demanded that Miss Plympton's pajamas should be quickly covered up. She
thanked me, evidently grateful for the attention, and then she arose to
the occasion and took command. Tweedles came down next in a great sister
act. They were still enjoying themselves to the utmost.
The firemen had got their engine going and were painfully pumping a thin
stream of water on the building. Miss Plympton suggested that they put
up their hook and ladders and try to go into the part of the building
where the flames had not reached and save some of the girls' clothes if
possible. This they did, and bundles similar to the one we had hurled
out of our window began to be pitched from the rooms. Now began the
fight with sneak thieves who had come up from the village. I saw one big
negro woman making off with a bundle as big as she was. My ankle put me
out of the running, but I put Mary Flannagan on to it and she darted
after the thief. With her powers of a ventriloquist that so often she
had used for our amusement, she threw her voice so that it seemed to
come from the inside of the great bundle.
"Who's carrying off my bones?" she cried in a deep sepulchral tone, and
the scared darkey dropped her loot and ran like a rabbit.
We formed a police squad among the Juniors and many a thief was made to
bring back some prize he hoped to make away with.
The building burned merrily on. It could not have been more than an hour
before it was completely gutted, in spite of the gallant fight the
village firemen put up with their rather pitiful excuse for an engine.
The wind was high and blew every spark into flame. It got so hot we were
forced to take a stand far from the school. The girls did their best to
identify their bundles, and when once identified, they sat on them to
make sure of them.
Miss Plympton ordered us to form into classes out on the campus, and
then she carefully went through each class to see that we were all there
and all right. Then she put us in charge of teachers. This was very
amusing, as I am sure the teachers had done little to deserve the honour
of commissioned officers. I believe Margaret Sayre and Miss Ball were
the only ones who had shown any presence of mind at all.
No one seemed to know how the fire had started. All we knew was it was
in the cellar. Mr. Ryan finally reported that he had not perceived it
until after I had rung the alarm. He insisted he had made all the
rounds, but I could not help having my doubts in the matter as I had
covered a good deal of the building in my wild flights and had not once
seen a gleam of his lantern.
I told Miss Plympton how I had been forced to get up for a drink of
water and how I had smelt burning varnish and how full the lower hall
was of smoke.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I thought the fire alarm would call everybody."
"Ahem! Quite right," she said rather sheepishly. "The fact is I heard
the gong in my sleep but was dreaming of the fire drill."
"That seems to have been the case with almost every one. I fancy if I
had not been thirsty all of us might still be sweetly dreaming."
"I want to thank you for your behaviour and congratulate you on your
presence of mind." This from Miss Plympton. "I wish you would tell the
Misses Tucker to come to me. I have not yet thanked them for saving my
life."
I was amused at this, but did not think it at all funny that I was sent
on an errand, as my foot felt like coals of fire and hot ploughshares
and all kinds of terrible ordeals. I limped off but the first groan of
the night slipped from me.
"Why, child! What is the matter?" Her voice was actually soft and
sympathetic.
"Nothing!" I stammered, thinking to myself that I was in for an
investigation now. "I ricked my ankle."
"How?"
"Getting out the window." I was a little sullen in tone now, but I was
in so much pain by this time that nothing made very much difference to
me.
"Why, you poor little heroine! I am going to have you sent over to the
hotel immediately and have a doctor look at it."
Maybe you think I didn't feel foolish and sneaky! Miss Plympton thought
I meant I had just sprained it that night instead of the evening before
in the fire drill. I was not accustomed to subterfuge and my face burned
with the effort to keep the secret. I was not at liberty to involve
Tweedles in my confession, and it was impossible to make one without
doing it.
Just at this juncture old Captain Leahy came stumping up.
"Well, phat is all this? The beautiful schcool all burnt oop! I am
grievin' at phwat our sweet lady will say; boot praise be, she was not
herre to go down wid the ship!"
"Oh, Captain, I am glad to see you. I have sprained my ankle and I have
just got to get somewhere and lie down." I had visions of keeling over
again in a faint and thought it the better part of valour to save my
friends that anxiety.
"Ye poorr lamb! I'll fetch a wheelbarrow and get ye over to my mansion
in a jiffy."
Tweedles came just then and highly approved of the plan.
"I tell you what, Captain Leahy, if you won't mind, let us stay in your
house until the early train and then we can get to Richmond in time for
lunch."
"Moind! It would make me that prood! And the poosies would be overjyed."
So Tweedles hustled around and found Annie and Mary and they all
scratched in the debris for their belongings and mine, and soon we
started off in a procession to Captain Leahy's. I was perched in a
wheelbarrow that the good old man had found in a tool house by the
garden and each girl had a sheet full of clothes slung over her back.
When we got to the crossing, the Captain asked us to wait outside a
moment while he put his house to rights. All he had to do was to convert
his berth into seats again, and in a jiffy he was out to usher us into a
ship-shape apartment. He was a singularly orderly old man to be so
charming. I do not think as a rule that very orderly persons are apt to
be charming.
"Dum and I have to go to the station a minute," said Dee, just as though
it were not three o'clock in the morning.
"The station! What on earth for?" I demanded in amazement.
"Well, you see the train dispatcher is there and we can get Zebedee on
the 'phone."
"What on earth is the use in waking him up this time of night and
scaring him to death? I think to-morrow will do just as well."
"To-morrow, indeed! By to-morrow 'twill be no scoop. Don't you know that
if we get this to Zebedee now he will scoop all the papers in
Richmond?"
And so he did. Tweedles had not been brought up in a newspaper family
for nothing. The ruling passion for news scoops was strong in death.
CHAPTER XXII.
IN MOTLEY RAIMENT.
That was a strange trip we took to Richmond, catching that early train.
No one had had any sleep, but we meant to have some naps on the train.
Dear old Captain Leahy was as good as gold to us. He left us to keep
house for him, as he put it, while he went back to the school with the
wheelbarrow to get Annie's trunk. Annie was the only one who had a trunk
now and grateful indeed she was to the Tuckers for saving it for her.
She kept her clothes in her trunk as a rule, all of the best ones, at
least, so she really had suffered almost no loss from the fire.
The rest of us had to do some twisting and turning to get sufficiently
clothed to travel. There were no hats at all in the company. Annie had a
summer hat packed in her trunk, but no hat at all was better than a
summer hat the middle of March. At that date the style of wearing your
summer hat in winter and beginning on your winter hat in early fall had
not yet penetrated to Gresham.
Mary had fared worse than any of us and all her voluminous skirts had
perished in the flames. At least, we thought they had at the time but we
heard later that some of the Gresham darkeys were seen dressed in them.
Thomas Hawkins reported this to us. He said he knew Mary's clothes and
could not be mistaken.
Mary's home lay in a different direction from Richmond and Mary thought
she must leave us and go immediately to her mother, but we persuaded her
to call up her mother on long distance and put it up to her that since
she was burnt out and had no clothes she had better go to Richmond with
us and purchase more.
Mrs. Flannagan thought so, too, and was not a bit grouchy over being
called up at five o'clock in the morning to decide. She even said she
might come to Richmond herself and superintend the purchasing. We wanted
to meet Mary's mother, but we were itching to have charge of the
selection of Mary's clothes, certain, in the arrogance of youth, that we
could do much better than Mrs. Flannagan.
I am pretty sure that that was the first time school girls had ever left
Gresham on that early train with a proper breakfast. Captain Leahy
hustled and bustled, and with the assistance of the girls had a
delightful little repast cooked on his doll baby stove. The coffee was
not of the finest grade, but it was of the finest make. The toast was
piping hot and the fried eggs were beyond reproach. The girls who had
been taken to the hotel did not fare so well as we.
Before train time Miss Plympton came to bid us good-bye. She was looking
terribly harassed, having so many girls to attend to. I was glad to see
she had changed her pink pajamas for a more suitable attire, also glad
that she had remembered to bring my coat back to me.
I had had a little talk with Tweedles while Mary and Annie were 'phoning
Mrs. Flannagan, and we had come to the conclusion that we would 'fess
up to Miss Plympton about how I got the sprained ankle.
"I'll write to her, if you girls don't mind," I said. "I never felt
sneakier in my life than when she bit so easily. I would have told her
then but I did not want to get you into a scrape, too."
"Oh, forget it! Forget it!" they tweedled.
We had not expected the honour of a visit from her, as we had got her
permission to take the first train home and thought that would be the
last of it.
She would not sit down at first, but stood a few minutes in the tiny
house, looking curiously around at the Captain's arrangements. We had
finished breakfast and Dum and Annie were clearing off the table
preparatory to washing the dishes, although the host insisted on their
leaving them.
"We've half an hour to train time and might just as well put it in
usefully," insisted Dum.
"You look that tirred, lady," said the Captain, "if ye will excuse an
ould man, I think if ye take a coop of coffee 'twill be the savin' of
ye."
She did take one and very grateful she was. I began to feel that Miss
Plympton was much more human than I had ever deemed her. It wasn't easy
to begin my confession, however, as there were so many present and Miss
Plympton tired and broken was still Miss Plympton.
"I have something to tell you," I faltered, after she had inquired
almost tenderly after my ankle. "I--I--sprained my ankle in the fire
drill, not in the fire. Tweedles--I mean Caroline and Virginia--and I,
you remember, beat all the girls out of the building. We did not come
out the regular way, but slid down the sheets out of our window. There
were not enough sheets in our rope then to touch the ground and I had to
jump about six feet--and my ankle turned. I did not mean to let you
think it was in the fire I had hurt it, but you just took it for
granted."
I waited in great anxiety to see how this confession would strike our
august principal. She looked at me curiously and then choked on her
coffee and laughed and laughed until the little kittens in Bett's basket
came out to see what was the matter. No one had ever seen Miss Plympton
really laugh before. Finally she was able to speak.
"After all, I did not say in my instructions to the school what route
they were to take to get out of the building when the alarm rang, and if
you chose to come by the window perhaps it was none of my business. At
any rate, I don't see what is to be done about it now. Certainly
demerits would be a farce."
"Well, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Dum. "Somehow I've been
having a feeling that demerits could never be a farce."
"They are a farce now. There is something I want to say to you
girls--all five of you. I might as well get it over with. I have not
understood you and feel that there have been times when I have been
unjust. I want you to accept my apology."
Miss Plympton stood up and held out her hand like a perfect gentleman.
We were so amazed we could hardly muster sense enough to shake it. Had
the fire gone to her head? "When I realize that but for your bravery I
might have lost my life--"
"Why, not at all, Miss Plympton," put in Dee, "there was really plenty
of time, as it turned out. The firemen could have got you out just as
well. There was no hurry, but of course we thought there was or we would
not have hustled you so."
"If you don't mind, I like to think you saved my life. I must tell all
of you good-bye now as I have a great many things to attend to and
telegrams to send to the parents of the pupils. I am sending all home
that I can to-day," and the poor woman gave another hand shake all
around and even stooped down and gave Bett a pat, much to the
astonishment of the Captain who thought our principal scorned cats.
She thanked our host for his kindness, and started out the door and then
came back and kissed me. Her face was crimson. Evidently she was not an
adept in osculatory exercises. "I hope your ankle will be all right, my
dear," she whispered. "Be sure and see a surgeon as soon as you get to
Richmond."
"Well, I'll be ding swittled!" gasped Dum, as the door closed on our one
time _bete noir_. She expressed the sentiments of all of us.
"The firre has milted herr icy hearrt. And did ye see herr pat poorr
Bett?"
"I am glad she is melted, but I must say I am also glad she didn't slush
on me but that Page got it," said naughty Dee. "I can't believe that
Miss Plympton has actually taken to lollapalussing."
A motley crowd we were on that train to Richmond. Some girls had saved
jackets and no skirts and some skirts and no jackets. Some of them had
on bedroom slippers, and one girl, who was too fat to borrow, went home
in her gymnasium suit and a long coat. Hats were a rarity and gloves
unheard of. I am certain more clothes were saved than the girls ever
saw, as the ghouls were very busy. We looked like a tacky party as
almost every one had on something borrowed or incongruous.
The excitement had kept up our spirits and, while we were one and all
sorry about Gresham, we were one and all glad to be going home. I say
all were glad, but that is not quite accurate. Annie Pore was not glad.
Home was not a very entrancing place for her, poor girl. A country store
in a small settlement on the river bank is not such a very cheerful
place for a beautiful young girl with a voice she hopes to make
something of. Annie's voice was deepening in tone and becoming very
round and full. She really should be having it cultivated by a good
master, but Mr. Pore was so parsimonious there was no telling whether or
not he would let her have the necessary advantages.
We talked of many things on that trip to Richmond. Sleep was out of the
question, although we had planned naps to make up for the many hours we
had been awake. Dee re-bandaged my ankle and I was much more
comfortable.
"I, for one, mean to go to New York to study Art," said Dum.
"Well, if you go, I'm going, too," declared Dee. "I don't know just what
I'll study, but I'm going to be either a trained nurse or a veterinary
surgeon."
"I mean to take a course in journalism at Columbia," I put in.
"I do want to study singing in good, hard earnest," sighed Annie.
"I mean to be a movie actress," said funny Mary Flannagan. "You needn't
laugh. There is great demand for character work in the movies. Everybody
can't be beautifully formed. I bet you John Bunny draws a bigger crowd
than Annette Kellermann."
"Well, I'll pay my dime to see you on the screen every day in the week!"
I exclaimed.
"I am really seriously considering the stage for a profession," declared
Mary. "I could do vaudeville stunts in between my movie engagements."
"Of course you could!" tweedled the twins.
"I believe you could make a big hit in vaudeville. I never yet have seen
or heard of a female ventriloquist on the stage," continued Dum.
"Whatever we are going to do next winter," said Annie, "we are at least
going to be together some this summer. Harvie Price has written me that
his grandfather, General Price, has told him he can have a house party
on his beautiful old plantation at Price's Landing any time this summer
that suits him, and he is to have all of us."
"Oh, what fun! Zebedee says Riverlands is one of the show places of
Virginia and I know it will be just splendid to visit there," said Dee.
"But speaking of visiting places," I exclaimed, "wouldn't I love to
spend this unexpected spring holiday in travel!--not to far away places,
you know,--"
"I know," interrupted Dee eagerly, "just short trips--at a moment's
notice--anywhere."
"The kind Zebedee takes," added Dum.
Oh, how I wished we might--but I knew we couldn't.
And yet we did! I'll tell you some day what fun it was "Tripping with
the Tucker Twins."
THE END.
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Transcriber's note:
Obvious punctuation errors were corrected.
Varied hyphenation was retained. This includes words such as bed-room
and bedroom; fire-proof and fireproof.
Page 93, "Plymptom" changed to "Plympton" (at all, Miss Plympton)
Page 184, chapter title was changed to all capital letters to match rest
of chapter titles. Original print was in small capitals.
Page 311, "ALLENS" changed to "ALLEN'S" (AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL)