GREYCLIFF CLUBS.
The majority of Greycliff girls enjoyed the chapel period. Attendance
was compulsory, but there was the home feeling of people with many
thoughts and activities in common and the interest of knowing what was
going on. From the platform where sat the faculty, the sight of those
girlish faces must have been an inspiration. And as to the girls, there
were times when they really appreciated the fine array of talent upon
the platform. There was Miss Randolph, whose face was beautiful, with
fine thoughts and high ideals. There were intellectual men and bright,
earnest women, whose chief purpose was to unfold truth in teaching their
subjects to these girls. At times, to be sure, members of the faculty
would come to the conclusion that none of the girls were endowed with
minds and that all their efforts were wasted. This conclusion would be
reached over a set of examination papers on which the class had done its
worst. On the other hand, in the eyes of the girls at times, the faculty
were the most obstinate, particular, insistent group of people that ever
existed, when they stood in the way of some cherished plan, or imposed
distasteful tasks! But on the whole, the Greycliff relations between
girls and teachers were most pleasant. At critical times, real love and
appreciation came to the fore.
On Thursday morning of this first week of school, Dr. Norris, who was
reading the notices after the brief service, paused with a sheaf of
small paper in his hands. “So many notices of meetings have been handed
me, that I advise you either to make a note now of those in which you
are interested, or to consult carefully the bulletin on which these will
be posted. Many of them are only for organization and ought to be brief.
Most of them occur on Friday evening or some time Saturday.” There
followed such a list of clubs that most of the faculty were smiling and
the girls laughing or giggling before Dr. Norris had finished. Some of
the clubs had odd names, or Greek letter titles, which rather concealed
any purpose the club might have than revealed it. The dramatic club, the
musical club, the “Greycliff Orchestral Society,” the art club, the
athletic council, the debating club and others, all announced meetings.
“And to think that we have the effrontery to start any more!” whispered
Helen to Juliet.
Class meetings were also announced, among them the senior academy
meeting. But two busy days of class work came before these important
gatherings. Our girls’ minds were in a whirl of studies, plans, and
various social relations. There were so many attractive girls, so many
forms of activity opening beside the courses of study. One girl could
not by any possibility enter into everything, but it was a great
temptation to undertake too much.
“Mercy, Cathalina,” cried Hilary, “do you remember how many hours you
thought too many last year?” This was after lunch on Thursday, as the
girls went for their text books before the afternoon recitations.
“No, but I know that I have some ambition _this_ year,” replied
Cathalina. “Father says that I can,—may—paint this year, and that’s
that. Then my course is as full as they’ll let me make it. As I have so
much collegiate credit ahead, Miss Randolph says that I can have my
senior academy rank.”
“Good!”
“Yes, isn’t it? And by taking the French, I get credit for the course,
and yet I can read it so easily in the time I have to plan for study
that it will hardly count. It hardly seems fair!”
“Why not? You never had credit for it before, and yet with your private
lessons and all your practice talking it, even with the French maids you
used to have, you really know it.”
“I suppose that is so. The one course is quite advanced and has a lot of
new words in it, but that is all. I’ll make a vocabulary list and commit
the new words in between times.”
“That’s what I always say I’ll do and never get at it, but I’m going to
reform.”
“What athletics are you going into, Hilary?”
“Basketball, of course, and riding lessons, with some Gym work, I guess.
How about you?”
“I like tennis, and I’m down for regular Gym work this year. I’ll ride
and swim a little, but my work is going to keep me busy. Father isn’t
afraid that I’ll hie me away to painting every spare minute, but I’ll be
tempted sometimes. You rout me out, will you, Hilary?”
“Yes, indeed. We girls will see to it that the distinguished artist does
not ruin her health over her masterpieces. Can’t you make your schedule
include your outdoor doings and keep to it?”
“Perhaps I can work it out. I like this life! There’s something to do
all the time and all kinds of good times to plan for. Our societies will
be such fun! My course is not really hard. Math will take time, and the
two Latins. I’m skipping English this year, because I had ‘Lit’ with the
collegiates last year.”
“Do you think you will come back for the two collegiate years?”
“I don’t know; I hope so, don’t you want to?”
“Yes.”
After the afternoon classes were over a number of girls strolled back to
Greycliff Hall with their books and tablets, while others deposited
their belongings here and there, and gathered on the grass, in the
swings or elsewhere. Lilian suggested to Hilary and Eloise that they
stop to take a look at the south parlor, offered by Miss Randolph as
headquarters for the proposed academy literary society.
“Do you suppose we can get in?”
“We can try it.”
The door was unlocked, yielding immediately to Lilian’s rather
hesitating attempt to open it, and the three girls walked in, “I don’t
believe I was ever in the room before,” said Lilian. “Why don’t they use
it?”
“They do sometimes for a practice room,” said Hilary. “I think that
Patty practices in here. But since they have the new annex with all the
music rooms they don’t need it much, and it is too far from the rest to
be used for a bedroom, and they certainly don’t need it for a parlor any
more. It was used for a teachers’ parlor for a while, till they took a
bigger room in the new part. But what I wonder is that some club has not
taken it before.”
“I don’t think that any new clubs have been started for some time. The
little private clubs, of course, wouldn’t ask for any room.”
“I love this dark woodwork, don’t you?”
“Yes; we must have it furnished with dark chairs.”
“My, Lilian, have you gotten that far along?”
“Yes, why not? I can just see how it is going to look. That is a good
piano—till we get our own.”
“Good!” exclaimed Eloise. “That is the way to think about it. We can
raise the money.”
“We’ll just love our little society hall and have the best times! I can
see us having candy sales and things for the benefit of the
What-do-you-call-it Literary Sassiety.”
“There you are, Lilian. What _are_ we going to call ourselves?”
“Rack your brains, girls. Maybe some bright idea will strike us. Name,
motto, officers, constitution, membership,—but it will be fun to think
about it. I want Hilary for president, because she thought about it
first and is used to societies and things in church work. She will know
how to run it.”
“O, no,—” began Hilary, but was not permitted to go on.
“_Please_ don’t begin that way, Hilary,” said Eloise. “We all ought to
do our best in starting this, and I think all the girls feel that you
will make our best first president. In after years,” she continued
loftily, “when our descendants come to Greycliff, they will be shown a
handsome painting, done by the world-renowned artist, Cathalina Van
Buskirk, of Madam Hilary Lancaster—Somebody, first president of the
Shakespearean Literary Society!”
“Listen to the inspired lady! By the way,” said Hilary, “that would not
be a bad name.”
“School societies usually have a Greek or Latin name and some unreadable
motto that half the members don’t understand.” Thus Eloise.
“It’s classic and all right,” said Lilian. “Father says he does not want
schools to get away from the old classical studies, but I, too, think
that the name of some great English author would be fine for our
society. The collegiate societies have the other sort of names.”
Friday night came at last. In “Lakeview Suite” were Hilary, Lilian,
Cathalina, Betty, Eloise, Helen, Juliet, Pauline, Isabel and Avalon.
Lilian and Betty had just come in, each with a pan of hot fudge.
“Goody, girls!” exclaimed Isabel. “I was just wondering when we were
going to have any eats and parties. Do you girls remember Hilary’s
birthday box?”
“Do we _remember_!” exclaimed Pauline. “I can even _taste_ that chicken
yet!”
“Lilian and I are going to celebrate together this year,” announced
Hilary, smiling. “Our birthdays come only a month apart, so we shall
have _two_ boxes.”
“You know I always did like you, Hilary,” said Isabel with great
feeling, moving around to where Hilary stood.
“Little humbug,” said Hilary, as distinctly as she could with a bit of
fudge that was a little too warm for comfort.
Isabel pretended to be crushed, but as Hilary added, “You’re all invited
to the party,” she “registered” joy, as they do in the moving pictures,
and said with satisfaction, “_Now_ there is something to look forward to
for October, or is it November?”
“The date will be announced later,” said Lilian, “but we must get down
to business tonight.”
The matter of the literary society was taken up first and the committee
made its report. Eloise had again been appointed chairman. A simple
constitution was presented. On this the committee had had help from Miss
West, as had been suggested. That out of the way, the election of
officers and selection of a name was proposed. Everybody thought that
The Shakespearean Literary Society of the Academy was good, and a
committee was appointed to look up some quotations from Shakespeare from
which a good motto could be selected.
“To be or not to be,” suggested Isabel, rolling the r in “or.”
“There’s one beginning ‘To thine own self be true’ that is good,” said
Pauline.
“There will be plenty of them,” said Lilian. “Let’s leave that to the
committee, to hunt them up and bring a good list. Patty can help us
there, too, if she will.”
“Is it necessary to have ballots?” ask Eloise.
“We all know, I think, whom we want for officers,” said Cathalina.
“My, we’re getting to be regular politicians,” said Avalon.
“Nonsense; this is for a good purpose,” said Juliet.
“So they think,” said Avalon.
“Honestly, girls,” said Hilary, “do you think it is all right for us to
start this by ourselves?”
“Of course we do,” replied Avalon, who did not wish to be thought
serious in her comments.
“We argued that all out before, you know, Hilary,” said Eloise. “It is
our own idea. It isn’t as if any body else was going to do it and we
were trying to get ahead of them. And are we doing it for ourselves?
Does Hilary want to be president and do all the hardest
work?—Nominations for president are now in order.”
Hilary laughed and settled back with resignation to the inevitable. For
with no hesitation her name was proposed, and she was unanimously
elected. Lilian was made vice-president and Juliet secretary. Pauline
was treasurer and was to be at the head of any plans for furniture or
other desired possessions of the society.
“I suggest that we only appoint one member of the program committee from
our number and let her select from the new members whomever she wants to
work with her. By the constitution, too, our president is to have
general oversight of the program.”
“That is a good idea, Cathalina,” said Eloise, “do you so move?”
Cathalina so moved, and as soon as soon as possible nominated Isabel for
chairman of the program committee. Isabel protested that there ought to
be one of the older girls.
“Get one to serve with you, then,” she was told. “You know most of the
girls and what they can do in a literary way, and all of us will help
with suggestions if you need any.”
The officers elected, the election of members came next. Hilary
suggested a quick way of disposing of this. “Let all of us write the
names of girls that we think would make good members and hand the names
to a nominating committee. Then let them present the names that are on
all the lists, or enough of them.”
“How many new members do we want?” asked Cathalina.
“There are ten of us, aren’t there? What do you say to beginning with
twenty-five members? That room will hold twice as many, but twenty-five
will be enough for not having the same people on the programs too often,
and we can add girls that we get acquainted with later. Isn’t the school
full this year? They had to refuse some, Alma said, because they
couldn’t squeeze any more in and care for them properly.”
Cathalina, Betty and the rest hurried around to get enough pencils
together and tear the paper that they had already provided in several
tablets.
“Can we talk the girls over and compare lists beforehand?” asked Avalon.
“Of course,” said Eloise. “Who has the list of girls in the academy?”
“I have,” replied Lilian.
“Will you read it slowly, then?”
Lilian did so, while the girls listened attentively and often jotted
down a name on their lists.
“Now take all the time you want for talking it over. I want to do it
too. I will call you to order after a little.”
Consultation was in order now, and the full list of academy students was
passed from hand to hand.
“Who are ‘Catherine Lawrence’ and ‘Dorothy, Bryant,’ put together on the
list?” asked Helen.
“They are two new girls who have entered as juniors,” answered Hilary.
“Yes, and they are fine girls, I think,” added Cathalina. “Catherine was
playing for some of the girls in the big parlors the other night, and
she plays so well for a girl of her age, classical music, too.”
“She and Dorothy are from the same town,” said Isabel. “Dorothy is
taking music, too, and is in one of the elocution classes.”
“Let’s have them, then.” Two names went down on several lists.
Finally all the lists were complete with fifteen names of first choice
and five names of second choice, for fear that time would be lost if
there were not enough votes for the same ones the first time. But it was
proof that the girls thought of ability as well as personal preference
that fifteen girls were at once selected and their names returned by the
“nominating committee.” Louise Monroe, Jane Mills, Ruth Russell, Alice
Scott, and Lucile Houston were strong girls in the senior class. Evelyn
Calvert could write or recite such clever dialect stories. Isabel had
made a plea for Margaret Virginia Hope, the new girl from North Dakota.
“And by the way, girls, she says she wants us to call her Virginia from
now on, and she has given her name to the teachers as Virginia.”
“How crazy.”
“She has a reason.”
“Virginia” Hope it was, then, who was elected. She with Mary Johnston,
Agnes and Nelle Pickett, and Nancy Gordon, were classmates of Isabel and
Avalon. A few more juniors completed the fifteen.
“Do you realize, girls, that we haven’t a single freshman?”
“I hadn’t thought of it, Cathalina, but that is so,” replied Hilary.
“It was natural enough and perhaps just as well,” said Pauline. “Let
them make good. They are all new except some that didn’t make the
sophomore class last year.”
“And those we don’t want, for we must have some standard of scholarship
in a literary society.”
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Isabel. “The literary society is started. When shall
we hear Hilary’s inaugural address?”
“There is isn’t going to be any,” declared Hilary.
It was decided to meet regularly, like the other societies, on Friday
night at seven-thirty. Hilary and the program committee were to arrange
the first program for the following Friday. The first purchase was to be
that of a musical bell, to be rung in the halls when the members were
called to the meetings.
“There isn’t much time left, I’m afraid, for our other affair,” said
Lilian.
“O, yes; look,” and Hilary pointed to her clock. “We did wonders in
quick work on the Shakespearean Society.”
“That is because we had thought up what we wanted beforehand.”
“Let’s have an informal meeting now, with Eloise to put it to vote
occasionally,” said Betty. “I think she would make a fine president
anyhow.”
“O, no,” said Eloise; “Cathalina thought about it, besides.”
“Cathalina _positively_ declined to consider it,” said that young lady.
“You know, girls, how I’m doubling up work this semester. I’ll work in
the clubs, and I’ll need ’em for recreation, but _please_ don’t ask me
to be president.”
Betty put the question after Eloise had been nominated and “seconded,”
and the matter was concluded. Helen was to be secretary and treasurer.
It was decided to have a pin, since it was not always convenient to wear
a certain ring all the time. Cathalina asked permission to see about
these pins in New York, to be the great delight of the girls who knew
that they would be all the more beautiful and artistic if she attended
to it.
“What ‘object’ are we going to have, if Miss Randolph inquires?” she
asked.
“What could we have,” asked Lilian, “except to be together and have a
good time, and stand by each other and help the other girls all we can?”
“I think she would think that enough,” said Cathalina. “This is just a
social club, and of course wherever anything is to be done for the
school or anybody we can take hold, too. Father is always quoting,
‘Therefore it is meet that noble minds keep ever with their likes,’ when
he is talking about our keeping good company.”
“What is that from, Cathalina?”
“Julius Caesar. A speech by Cassius about Brutus, I think.”
“Girls, we haven’t a name yet,” reminded Eloise.
“Greycliff’s Giggling Girls,” suggested Isabel.
“The Grey Cliff-Dwellers.”
“The Helping Hand Club, with a hand for a pin!”
“The Truth Seekers,—with a lantern!”
“Eloise says that her favorite emblem is a harp, a lyre or a banjo.”
“Get the name to fit the pin, then. How would the Happy Harpers do?”
“Come on, girls, be sensible,” said Hilary.
“I think that it would be sensible to leave the name another week or so.
Maybe the designs for pins will help us, or somebody will have a bright
thought. There’s the bell now!”
“All right, Helen, shall we, girls?” asked Eloise, the president of this
as yet nameless society.
“We’ll have to,” said Juliet. “Good-night, the fudge was awfully good.”
“I begin to think that the ‘Fudge Club’ wasn’t such a bad name after
all,” said Isabel. “They probably had a time to think up a name. ‘O,
fudge’ is probably their motto.”