THE SENIOR-FRESHMAN PARTY.
The second week of school was scarcely less full than the first. Among
other things, the invitations were to be sent out to the new members of
the Shakespearean Literary Society, and the program was to be arranged
for the following Friday night. Cathalina made some artistic
invitations, and Hilary, with Isabel, made short work of arranging a
program. They met in Isabel’s room Monday after recitations. Hilary
breezed in with a tablet in her hand, notes already made of the things
to be done.
“I’ve just seen the chief janitor, Isabel, and arranged to have enough
chairs taken in the south parlor Friday night, and engaged Miss Smith to
make us some sandwiches and cocoa, so all I’ll have to do will be to
remind them on Friday afternoon. Of course we can’t have sandwiches or
other things to eat every time, but I thought we ought to celebrate
starting the new society, and entertain the new members. Now for the
program.”
“I think that the purpose of the society ought to be explained by you,
Hilary, in a sort of ‘inaugural address,’ and then everybody has to
pledge themselves to support the society,—wasn’t that what the
constitution said?”
“Yes. All that would have to come in the business meeting part, though
an inaugural address would naturally be a part of the program.”
“Put it together this time, then.”
“I don’t believe we’d better have a regular program at this first
meeting.”
“No. Let’s not. I tell you, you go in and take your chair and we’ll all
greet the new president with loud applause!”
Hilary laughed.
“Then somebody will go for the new members who will be waiting in some
room near, and bring them in and put them in the front seats. And then
is when I think you ought to explain about what the society is for and
say anything else that you have in mind.”
“Yes. That would be the natural time. Then the secretary would read the
constitution and put the pledge to the new members.”
“Have ’em all stand in a row or circle while they hear and take the
pledge of allegiance!”
“Too bad we haven’t pins to badge them with!”
“We’ll pin our colors on them!”
Hilary laughed again. “What are our colors?”
“We’ll have to adopt some. I never thought of that before.”
“Funny some of us didn’t!”
“That will be easy. Call the ten of us together Friday afternoon,—no,
because we’ll have to send for the ribbon.”
“No time like the present. We can decide on the colors after dinner
tonight.”
“When will Cathalina have the invitations ready?”
“Tomorrow. She is just fixing some tiny cards in envelopes, not much on
them, inviting them to ‘become members of the Shakespearean Literary
Society.’ I hope nobody will refuse.”
“Well, after they are all initiated, what then?”
“The program. Ay, there’s the rub!”
“Easy. Get Lilian and Eloise to sing a duet. They were trying a lovely
one. Then ask Dorothy Bryant to play a piano solo, tell her she is going
to be invited to join and we need her. Evelyn will give us a dialect
story, I’m sure, and, let’s see. O, there’s Ruth Russell with her
violin. Do you remember how well she played last year?”
“Yes. You’re a whole program committee by yourself, Isabel.”
Isabel looked pleased. “We ought to have another literary number,” she
said, “but the trouble is that nobody has time to get up anything new. I
wonder if Cathalina has that pretty little story that she wrote for the
class last year. She tried it out on me, but nobody much has heard it.
She got an A on it, but I think she said that when she read it half the
girls were out with grippe. Anyhow they were the collegiates. It was the
composition with the Lit. class.”
“I’m going to leave it all to you, then, Isabel. May I count on you?”
“You may. Go on and write your inaugural address in peace!”
“Will you get word to the girls about the colors, so they will be
thinking about them and be ready to choose them tonight?”
“Yes. Where shall we meet?”
“In our suite, if you don’t mind.”
But of equal importance was a social event of Saturday, to be planned
and carried out by the seniors, who always entertained and initiated the
freshmen. As the entire class had part in getting this affair ready and
had appointed the committees after the election of officers at their
first meeting, no great responsibility rested upon Lakeview suite or its
chief mate in Lakeview Corridor. Eloise had suggested naming that Sleepy
Hollow, one night when everybody was tired and yawning, but the name was
too inappropriate to continue.
“Dear me,” said Cathalina, as the girls were discussing the plans for
this senior-freshman party, “we’re really seniors this year and have all
the duties and honors of our rank. What is the purpose of this?”
“Cathalina,” said Betty, “we must have ‘objects’ and ‘purposes’ on the
brain, and no wonder. There isn’t any to this, except to welcome the
freshmen. The ‘initiation’ is in place of any hazing. Miss Randolph
won’t hear to the least bit of that. If a girl wants to find herself at
home in a jiffy, just let her try some of it. But I do hope that the
committee will think up something funny.”
At that moment there came a knock on the door and two senior girls were
admitted. “May we have Lilian?” they asked.
“She and Hilary went over to the library about half an hour ago, and
then were going down to the lake.”
The girls refused the invitation to linger and visit, promising to do so
at another time, and continued the search for Lilian. When the bell rang
for dinner Hilary and Lilian were seen coming from the direction of the
lake arm in arm with these girls, all talking and laughing at a great
rate.
“What’s the fun?” asked Isabel, as she passed them.
“A great secret, Isabel,” returned Lilian. “If it were mine, I’d tell
you.”
“Of course you’ve been to court lots of times if your father’s a judge,”
one of the girls was saying.
“Mercy, no. He won’t let me. O, I’ve been in once or twice for a little
while.”
“I suppose we ought to know ‘how the other half lives,’ though.”
“Father says not, not for young people, anyway, and he ought to know. He
can convince anybody, too.”
The girls were naturally curious about what Lilian was to do, she
explained that what was being done by the committee was to be kept
secret and that she had promised. “If any of you are asked to do
something too, then I can tell, to a certain extent.”
“How mysterious. I like to be surprised,” said Cathalina.
Lilian, in frantic haste, sent off a special delivery letter to her
father, and received one in reply. A large package was brought to the
suite for Lilian. Announcement of the senior-freshman party was made at
dinner on Tuesday and the freshmen cordially invited for Saturday
afternoon, from three to five, “and that means that you are asked to be
seated in the hall at three o’clock.” The party was to be held in one of
the collegiate society halls. The freshmen were interested and curious
to know what was going on, for they had heard rumors of an initiation,
The senior girls were paying them a good deal of attention this week,
partly to get acquainted with them, partly because of their base designs
upon them. Lilian declared that she was almost distracted with the
different things she had to think of. She begged off with Isabel in
regard to the proposed duet for society with Eloise, and Eloise
consented to sing a solo instead.
Hilary kept thinking of matters that must be proposed at the literary
society meeting. They had decided that the matter of colors should be
voted on by the whole society, also that the matter of society pins was
to be considered. There were some other girls that they found they
wanted. Those names must be brought up.
Meanwhile Betty struck upon a name that she thought would do for the
smaller club. She was reading Guerber’s “Myths of Greece and Rome,”
having had to look up the stories about Cupid in connection with a
reference to Cupid and Venus in one of her lessons. Suddenly she
exclaimed, “Cathalina, here’s our emblem and club name! Listen. Don’t
you think that butterfly pins would be scrumptious?”
“They’d be lovely!” exclaimed Cathalina with enthusiasm.
“How about a Psyche club, then? Psyche means soul, and this story means
love and faith and effort and reaching Olympus at last. And Psyche is
always represented with butterfly wings, that means immortality. There’s
such a pretty story told here of ‘undying love,’ how Psyche’s wicked
sisters got her to believe that perhaps her husband, Cupid, was some
ugly monster because he did not want her to see him. Here is some poetry
quoted from Lewis Morris:
“Dear, I am with thee only while I keep
My visage hidden; and if thou once shouldst see
My face, I must forsake thee: the high gods
Link Love with Faith, and he withdraws himself
From the full gaze of Knowledge.”
“But Psyche got a lamp ready and a dagger, ready to kill him if he were
a monster, the way they do in those old mythological tales, but she is
supposed to be very kind and didn’t want to do it, especially as she
loved Cupid so much. Then a drop of burning hot oil fell on Cupid’s
shoulder, woke him up, and he flew away with his bow and arrows, right
through the open window. Here’s another quotation, from the same
author:
“Farewell! There is no love except with Faith,
And thine is dead! Farewell! I come no more!”
“Wasn’t that heart-breaking? Psyche was very unhappy and looked
everywhere for Cupid, and finally Ceres advised her to go and be a
servant to Venus, who was jealous of Psyche in the beginning and started
all the trouble. Psyche worked very hard and even went down into Hades
to get a beauty ointment for Venus. On the way back she thought she
needed some of it herself, so she opened the box and the spirit of Sleep
came out of it and put her to sleep. I wonder if that means that sleep
is the best means of beauty! But Cupid came along, and as he still loved
Psyche, he made the spirit of sleep get back into the box and took
Psyche to Olympus, where Venus was all right, and Cupid married Psyche,
and they were happy. Now don’t you like that? ‘The high gods link love
with Faith!’”
“I’m not sure that I like the name ‘Psyche Club.’ But I like the idea of
it, love, faith, immortality and and keeping on till you reach Olympus.
And the butterfly pins would be the dearest things. Would you like
enamel ones with butterfly colors, or gold or platinum with a few tiny
jewels?”
“We could not afford the platinum, I’m afraid.”
“We’ll talk it over with the girls.”
“If you want some other name, we could put it into Latin or Greek and
take the initials.”
“Listen to our classic Betty! So easy to put it into Greek, for
instance.”
“Patty could do it for us, or Dr. Norris.”
“True. I hadn’t thought of that. ‘Nothing below Olympus,’ or ‘Nothing
less than Olympus.’ I could almost think up the Latin for that myself,
Nihil ... minus ... um ... quam Olympus. Wait till I get my dictionary
from the girls. Helen borrowed my lexicon for something or other.”
“There’s not much use trying to work anything up for this week. Lessons,
society meeting and the senior-freshman party are all I can do. Did you
ever see such long lessons as we are having, or do I imagine it?”
“I think it is harder to get started than usual. I have to study nearly
all the time. I suppose they think that we are seniors and can do more.”
Again they were looking forward to Friday night and Saturday, but school
girls always do that. Every girl who was invited to join the literary
society accepted. The first meeting went off without a hitch in the
proceedings, Hilary covering herself with glory in her quiet management
of it all and her strong, sensible little speech. It was planned to
bring in some of the freshmen as soon as they should know them a little
better, and to create a few more offices. Miss Randolph thought that
enough chairs could be found to equip the hall until the girls had plans
and money for their own furniture. Cathalina longed to have her father
send on the “whole thing,” but Miss Randolph said that it would not do.
“If you want to give them a piano later, that would be a beautiful thing
to do. But people love what they work for themselves.”
On Saturday afternoon the freshmen, new, most of them, a little timid
and strange, some of them, in these halls of learning, gathered promptly
in the society hall to which they had been bidden. They slid into the
back seats, while the senior girls who had no part in the plans of the
committee sat in front or among them, very friendly and promising more
social activity as soon as the program should be over.
“Look at the arrangement of the chairs up front!” exclaimed Betty.
“They’re going to have a court! That’s why they came after Lilian,—” But
before Betty could finish her sentence, in came an imposing procession.
Lilian was judge, in flowing robes. Dignified lawyers carried ponderous
tomes. Even the court stenographers and reporters were represented. A
comical crew of jurymen filed in. The latter marched in step twice
around the double row of twelve chairs, stood till the foreman gave a
signal and sat down together. Little freshmen doubled over to laugh, and
the seniors in the audience followed their example. “Look at the clothes
of the jurymen!” shrieked one. But the bailiff, or some other dignified
official, pounded for order. There were, it must be confessed, some
differences between the method of conducting this court and the usual
procedure. But if anything this only added to the fun.
Lilian wore someone’s senior cap and gown, imported for the occasion by
one of the girls. That explained the big package which Lilian had had.
Her hair piled high, as much of it out of sight as possible, she made a
pretty Portia. Rising with much dignity and solemnity, she announced
that the first case called would be that of the state against Edith
Fuller. “Bring in the prisoner!” she sternly commanded. Whereupon the
bailiff called loudly for Edith Fuller, and two officials marched down
the aisle to where the astonished Edith sat. Edith had accompanied a
sister to Greycliff, as one of the “little girls,” and had been chosen
as the first victim because the senior committee thought that she would
not be as likely to be embarrassed as the new girls. Meanwhile the rest
could get used to the idea!
“Is the prosecution ready?” inquired the judge.
“The prosecution is ready, your honor,” declared the fierce prosecuting
attorney.
“Is the defense ready?”
“Your honor, the defense is ready!”
Edith was wondering of what she was supposed to be guilty, but rather
enjoyed it, once she had recovered from her surprise at being a part of
the show.
“What is the charge against the prisoner?”
The prosecuting attorney presented the case with an air of great
importance.
“On the nineteenth day of September, honorable judge and gentlemen of
the jury, the defendant, as we shall prove in this court, assaulted A.
Fly, with intent to kill, and upon the same date, within a few hours of
the first dastardly attempt, took the life of S. Keeter. The prosecution
proposes to show that the attack was premeditated and executed with
deadly effect. The remains were viewed by several witnesses for the
prosecution, and the act itself had two eye-witnesses.”
A witness was called to the stand. A little delay ensued before this
witness was sworn according to custom, and two officials left the room
to bring in immediately the unmistakable bulk of Webster’s Unabridged
Dictionary, upon which the witness pledged herself to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
“Your name is Miss Constant Listener?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you hear at four o’clock in the afternoon of September
eighteenth?”
“I heard a terrible shriek from the hall outside my door.”
“Describe your movements.”
“I rose, went into the hall, saw the remains of the defunct S. Keeter,
and the prisoner with blood upon her hand!”
“Did she say anything?”
“‘I’ve killed him!’ she said, gloating in her crime.”
“That is all.”
“Does the defense desire to question this witness?”
“No, your honor.”
A few more witnesses were called by the prosecuting attorney, all of
whom testified to the death of S. Keeter by the hand (indeed, on the
hand) of the prisoner.
The defense announced that no attempt would be made to prove that the
deed was not committed by the prisoner, although she had pleaded “not
guilty,” but that it would be clearly shown that the prisoner acted in
self-defense, after an unwarranted and blood-thirsty attack; that, by
the opinion of experts, it was committed, also, during a fit of
emotional insanity when the defendant was goaded beyond endurance by the
aforesaid S. Keeter with a poisoned barb. Several witnesses called by
the defense testified to the attack by S. Keeter upon the defendant, to
the high character of the prisoner, and her unusual behaviour at the
time named by the prosecution. It was also brought out that the prisoner
had no weapon at the time.
Edith was called to the stand, but had a bright thought to avoid
trouble. To each question put by the prosecution she replied that she
would not answer “for fear of incriminating” herself. This added
interest and fun, but rather spoiled some of the plans. Finally the
charge to the jury was made by Lilian:
“Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the testimony of the witnesses,
and you have seen the guilty face of the prisoner at the bar! Remember
to do your duty! Let not the ends of justice be thwarted!”
The jury retired, calling forth a fresh burst of laughter as in their
ridiculous costumes they merely paraded around the chairs, the bailiff
holding up placards marked “One Hour,” “Two Hours,” “Three Hours,” “Four
Hours,” till in the same manner as before the jury took their seats.
When the foreman was called upon for his report, in an impressive manner
he said, “After the deliberation of _hours_, the jury has unanimously
reached the conclusion that the prisoner is GUILTY, but she is
recommended to the mercy of the court.”
“Remove the prisoner!” sternly said the judge. “The sentence will be
imposed later. The next case will be heard.”
Edith pretended to faint, and was assisted back to her seat by the same
officials who had conducted her to the court.
“Were you in the secret, Edith?” asked one timid little freshman.
“No, indeed, couldn’t you see how surprised I was?”
“Yes, but you began to act just like a play.”
“Order in the court room! Order! Order! Is Grace Hathaway in the room?
Grace Hathaway! Grace Hathaway!” roared from the front.
Now Grace was a shy little thing, new, and surprised, for she supposed
that one case would end the mock court. But she rose, and timidly went
to meet the two girls who came for her. “Don’t be scared,” whispered one
of them. “Just answer up, or keep still if you like.”
The case against Grace was quickly put through, with few witnesses. She
was charged with disturbing the peace, her alarm clock going off for
three consecutive mornings at five o’clock. Grace gasped and said, “But
I don’t even own an alarm clock!” She was properly rebuked by the court,
and found guilty by the jury. Another freshman was charged with eating
bean soup with a fork, on the day that the beans swelled and the soup
dishes were full of “beans, not soup,” according to the defense. It was
proven, however, without a doubt that bean soup is bean soup, and should
be eaten with a spoon. The prisoner was found guilty.
Several other grave offenses were brought up against freshmen girls and
finally the rest were brought up in a body, charged with being too
popular, and found guilty. The judge then passed sentence upon all the
prisoners, who were to eat ice cream and cake till the supply was
exhausted. At that sentence, the senior girls scattered to bring in and
serve the cooling refreshments, for September usually is a summer month
is some respects, at least, and ices still taste as they should. The
rest of the time was spent in getting acquainted. The piano was opened
and all the sounds of revelry indicated a good time. “It was a splendid
party,” said one of the youngest freshmen to Lilian as the company broke
up. “And I think you made a wonderful judge!”