BURYING THE HATCHET
It was some days before Julia Crosby was able to return to school, but
when she did put in an appearance, she lost no time in taking her class in
hand and bringing about a much-needed reform. The part played by Grace
Harlowe in Julia's rescue had been related by her to various classmates
who had visited her during her illness, and Grace found that the older
girls were inclined to lionize her more than she cared to be. She received
praise enough to have completely turned her head had she not been too
sensible to allow it to do so.
After holding a conference with Julia, the two girls sent out notices to
their respective classes that a grand reunion of the two classes would
take place on the next Saturday afternoon at one o'clock, at the old
Omnibus House, providing the weather permitted. A tax of twenty-five cents
apiece was levied on the members of both classes. "Please pay your money
promptly to the treasurer of your class," ended the notices, "if you wish
to have plenty to eat. Important rites and ceremonies will be observed.
You will be sorry if you stay away, as an interesting program is
promised. Please keep this notice a secret."
"The field back of the Omnibus House is an ideal place for the burial,"
Julia told Grace. "It was there that the 'Black Monks of Asia' held their
revel and were unmasked by the freshmen. Besides, it's quiet and we shan't
be disturbed."
Grace agreed with her, and the two girls outlined the proceedings with
many a chuckle.
The junior and sophomore classes had been requested to go directly to the
Omnibus House.
"It would be great to have both classes march out there, but we should
have the whole of Oakdale marching with us before we arrived at the sacred
spot," observed Grace, with a giggle.
"If we don't have a lot of freshmen to suppress it will be surprising. I
do hope the girls haven't told anyone," Julia answered. "By the way, we
have a hatchet at home that will be just the thing to bury. It is more
like a battle-ax than anything else, and looks formidable enough to
represent the feeling that the juniors and sophomores are about to bury.
Now, Grace, you must prepare a speech, for we ought to have representative
remarks from both classes. Then Anne Pierson must recite 'The Bridge of
Sighs,' after I have made it over to suit the occasion. We'll have to
have some pallbearers. Three girls from each class will do."
Julia planned rapidly and well. Grace listened attentively. The junior
captain had remarkable energy. It was easy to see why Julia had always
headed her class. Julia in turn, was equally impressed with Grace's
ability. A mutual admiration society bade fair to spring up between the
two, so recently at swords' points.
On Saturday the weather left nothing to be desired. It seemed like a day
in late spring, although it was in reality early March. At one o'clock
precisely the two classes, with the exception of one member, assembled.
Julia Crosby acting as master of ceremonies, formed the classes in two
lines, and marched them to the middle of the field. Here, to their
complete mystification, they saw a large hole about four feet in depth had
been dug.
"Who on earth dug that hole, and what is it for?" inquired a curious
sophomore.
"Hush!" said Julia Crosby reverently. "That is a grave. Be patient. Curb
your rising curiosity. Soon you shall know all."
"Assistant Master Harlowe, will you arrange the esteemed spectators, so
that the ceremony may proceed?"
Grace stepped forward and solemnly requested the girls to form a double
line on each side of the opening. The shorter girls were placed in the
front rows.
"The sophomores will now sing their class song," directed the master of
ceremonies.
When the sophomores had finished, the juniors applauded vigorously. The
juniors' song was next in order and the sophomores graciously returned the
applause.
"I will now request the worthy junior members Olive Craig, Anne Green and
Elsie Todd, to advance. Honorable Assistant Master Harlowe, will you name
your trusted followers?"
Grace named Nora, Jessica and Marian Barber who came to her side with
alacrity.
"During the brief space of time that we are obliged to absent ourselves,
will every guest keep her roving eyes bent reverently on the ground and
think about nothing. It is well to fittingly prepare for what is to come."
With this Julia marched her adherents down the field and around the corner
of the Omnibus House. She was followed by Grace and her band. There was a
chorus of giggles from the chosen helpers that was sternly checked by
Julia.
Before their eyes stood a large, open paste-board box lined with the
colors of both classes, in which reposed the Crosby hatchet, likened to a
battle-ax by Julia. Its handle was decorated with sophomore and junior
ribbons, and around the head was a wreath of immortelles. A disreputable
looking sheaf of wheat lay across the end of the box.
There was a smothered laugh from Nora, whose quick brain had grasped the
full significance of the thing.
"This is not an occasion for levity," reprimanded Grace sternly. "Laughing
will not be tolerated."
Three twisted ribbon handles of sophomore colors and three of junior
ornamented either side of the box. Each girl grasped a handle.
"We will proceed with the ceremony," directed Julia. "Lift up the box."
This was easier said than done. The handles were so close together that
the girls hardly had room to step. The journey was finally accomplished
without any further mishap than the sliding off of the wheat sheaf. This
was hastily replaced by Jessica before its fall had been marked by the
eagle eye of the master of ceremonies, who marched ahead with her
assistant.
When the box had been carefully deposited at one side of the "grave,"
Julia Crosby took her place beside it, and assuming a Daniel Webster
attitude began her address.
"Honored juniors and sophomores. We have met together to-day for a great
and noble purpose. We are about to take a step which will forever after
be recorded among the doughty deeds of Oakdale High School. It will go
down in High School history as the glorious inspiration of a master mind.
We are going to unfurl the banner of peace and bury the hatchet.
"Since the early days of our class history, war, cruel war, has raged
between the august bodies represented here to-day. On this very field many
moons ago the gallant sophomores advanced upon the, then, very fresh
freshmen, but retreated in wild confusion. It is therefore fitting that
this should be the place chosen for the burial of all grudges, jealousies
and unworthy emotions that formerly rent our breasts."
Here Julia paused to take breath.
The girls cheered wildly.
Julia bowed right and left, her hand over her heart. When the noise had
subsided, she continued. She bewailed junior misdeeds and professed meek
repentance. She dwelt upon the beauty of peace and she begged her hearers
henceforth to live with each other amicably.
It was a capital address, delivered in a mock-serious manner that provoked
mirth, and did more toward establishing general good feeling than any
other method she might have tried. In closing she said:
"The hatchet is the symbol of war. The wheat-sheaf represents our elderly
grudge; but the immortelles are the everlasting flowers of good will that
spring from the planting of these two. We will now listen to a few remarks
from the pride of the sophomore class, Assistant Master of Ceremonies
Grace Harlowe."
Grace attempted to speak, but received an ovation that made her flush and
laughingly put her hands over her ears. When she was finally allowed to
proceed, she delivered an oration as flowery as that of the master of
ceremonies.
When the cries of approbation evoked by Grace's oration had died away, it
was announced that the "renowned elocutionist," Miss Anne Pierson, would
recite a poem appropriate to the occasion. Anne accordingly recited "The
Bridge of Sighs," done over by Julia Crosby, and beginning:
"Take it up gingerly;
Handle with care;
'Tis a relic of sophomore
And junior warfare."
The intense feeling with which Anne rendered this touching effusion,
caused the master of ceremonies to sob audibly and lean so heavily upon
her assistant for support that that dignified person almost pitched head
first into the opening, and was saved from an ignominious tumble by one of
her attendants. This was too much for the others, who, forgetting the
solemnity of their office, shrieked with mirth, in which the spectators
were not slow to join.
"I think we had better wind up the ceremony," said Julia with great
dignity. "These people will soon be beyond our control."
The attendants managed to straighten their faces long enough to assist in
the concluding rites that were somewhat hastily performed, and the master
of ceremonies and her assistants held an impromptu reception on the spot.
"Now," said Julia Crosby, "we have done a good day's work for both
classes. I only hope that no prying freshmen hear of this. They will be
sure to come here and dig up what we have gone to such pains to bury. They
have no respect for their superiors. However, you have all behaved
yourselves with true High School spirit, and I wish to announce that you
will find a spread awaiting you around the corner of the Omnibus House."
There was a general hurrah at this statement, and the guests rushed off to
the spot designated.
Grace had held an earnest conference with old Jean, and the result showed
itself in the row of tables rudely constructed to fit the emergency. He
it was who had dug the "grave." He now sat on the steps waiting to build a
fire, over which Grace had planned to make coffee for the hungry girls
whose appetites had been whetted by the fresh air.
The money contributed by the classes had been used to good advantage by
Grace and Julia, and piles of tempting eatables gladdened the eyes of the
guests.
For the next half hour feasting was in order. Juniors and sophomores
shared cups; as the supply of these were limited. At the end of that time
the last crumb of food had disappeared and the girls stood in groups or
walked about the field, discussing the various features of school life.
Some one proposed playing old-fashioned games, and soon "puss in the
corner," "pom-pom-pull-away," and "prisoner's goal" were in full swing.
"This brings back one's Grammar School days, doesn't it?" said Nora to
Grace. They were deep in a game of prisoner's goal, and stood for a moment
waiting for the enemy to move toward them.
"I haven't had such a good, wholesale romp for ages," answered Grace, and
was off like the wind to intercept Eva Allen as she endeavored to make a
wide detour of their goal.
The hours slipped by on wings.
The start home was made about five o'clock. The juniors and sophomores
trooped back to Oakdale arm in arm, singing school songs and making the
welkin ring with their joyous laughter.
The people of Oakdale smiled at the procession of happy girls and wondered
what particular celebration was in order.
When the center of town was reached the party broke up with a great deal
of laughing and chattering, the girls going their separate ways in the
best of spirits.
"I've had a perfectly fine time," declared Grace, as she said good-bye to
her chums, "and how glad I am that we are all friends again."
She quite forgot when she made that statement that Miriam Nesbit had not
honored the reunion with her presence.