JULIA PERFORMS A SACRED DUTY
"What have we ever done that we should be so neglected?" said David
Nesbit, swinging himself from his motorcycle and landing squarely in
front of Grace Harlowe and Anne Pierson while they were out walking one
afternoon.
"Why, David Nesbit, how can you make such statements?" replied Grace,
looking at the young man in mock disapproval. "You know perfectly well
that you've been shut up in your old laboratory all fall. We have
scarcely seen you since the walking party. You have even given football
the go by, and I'm so sorry, for you were a star player last year."
"I see you have discovered the secrets of my past life," replied David,
laughing. "That's what comes of having a sister who belongs to a
sorority. However, you folks are equally guilty, you've all gone mad
over your sorority, and left Hippy and Reddy and me to wander about
Oakdale like lost souls. I hear you've adopted a girl, too. Reddy is
horribly jealous of her. He says Jessica won't look at him any more."
"Reddy is laboring under a false impression," said Anne. "He is head
over heels in football practice and has forgotten he ever knew Jessica.
As for Hippy, Nora says that he is studying night and day, and that he
is actually wearing himself away by burning midnight oil."
"Yes, Hippy is studying some this year," replied David. "You see this is
our senior year, and we are going to enter the same college next year,
if all goes well. You know Hippy never bothered himself much about
study, just managed to scrape through. But now he'll have to hustle if
he gets through with High School this year, and he's wide awake to that
fact."
"Under those circumstances, Hippy is forgiven, but not you and Reddy!"
said Grace severely. "You'll have to have better excuses than football
and experiments."
"I'll tell you what we'll do to square ourselves," said David, smiling.
"We'll take you girls to the football game next Thursday. It's
Thanksgiving Day, you know, and Oakdale is going to play Georgetown
College. Reddy's on the team, but Hippy and I will do the honors."
"Fine," replied Grace. "But are you willing to burden yourselves with
some extra girls? You see it's this way. One of the things that our
sorority has pledged itself to do this year is to look up the stray
girls in High School, and see that they are not lonely and homesick
during holiday seasons. I used to know nearly all the girls in school,
but ever so many new ones have crept in, and some of them have come here
from quite a distance, on account of the excellence of our High School.
After we adopted Mabel Allison, we began looking about us for other fish
to fry, and found out about these girls. So every girl in the sorority
has invited one or more of these lonely ones for Thanksgiving Day. They
are to come in the morning and stay until the lights go out, which will
be late, for mother has consented to let me have a party and all those
new girls are to be the guests of honor.
"Mrs. Gray is in it, too. She insists on having Anne with her on
Thanksgiving, although Anne had invited two girls to her house,"
continued Grace. "Mrs. Gray had planned a party for us, but when we told
her what we were about to do, she gave up her party and agreed to go to
mine instead, on condition that Anne's family, plus Anne's two guests,
should have dinner with her."
"Bless her dear heart," said David, "she is always thinking of the
pleasure of others. Now about the football game. Bring your girls along
and I'll do my best to give them a good time, although I'm generally
anything but a success with new girls. However, Hippy makes up for what
I lack. He can entertain a regiment of them, and not even exert himself.
Now I must leave you, for I have a very important engagement at home."
"In the laboratory, I suppose," said Anne teasingly.
"Just so," replied David. "Good-bye, girls. Let me know how many tickets
you want for the game." He raised his cap, mounted his machine and was
off down the street.
"It will seem good to have a frolic with the boys again, won't it?" said
Grace to Anne as they strolled along.
"We do seem to be getting awfully serious and settled of late," replied
Anne. "Why, this sorority business has taken up all our spare time
lately. We've had so many special meetings."
"I know it," replied Grace, "but after Thanksgiving we'll only meet once
in two weeks, for I must get my basketball team in shape, and you see
all the members belong to the society."
"You ought to do extra good work this year," observed Anne, "for the
team is absolutely harmonious. Last season seems like a dream to me
now."
"It was real enough then," replied Grace grimly. "I have forgiven, long
ago, but I have not forgotten the way some of those girls performed last
year. It was remarkable that things ever straightened themselves. The
clouds looked black for a while, didn't they?"
Anne pressed Grace's hand by way of answer. The sophomore year had been
crowded with many trials, some of them positive school tragedies, in
which Anne and Grace had been the principal actors.
"What are you two mooning over?" asked a gay voice, and the two girls
turned with a start to find Julia Crosby grinning cheerfully at them.
"O Julia, how glad I am to see you at close range!" exclaimed Grace.
"Admiring you from a distance isn't a bit satisfactory."
"Business, children, business," said Julia briskly. "That's the only
thing that keeps me from your side. The duties of the class president
are many and irksome. At the present moment I've a duty on hand that
I don't in the least relish, and I want your august assistance. Will you
promise to help before I tell you?"
"Why, of course," answered Grace and Anne in the same breath. "What is
it you want us to do?"
"Well, it seems that some of your juniors are still in need of
discipline. You remember the hatchet that we buried last year with such
pomp and ceremony?"
"Yes, yes," was the answer.
"This morning I overheard certain girls planning to go out to the
Omnibus House after school to-morrow and dig up the poor hatchet and
flaunt it in the seniors' faces the day of the opening basketball game,
simply to rattle us. Just as though it wouldn't upset your team as much
as ours. It's an idiotic trick, at any rate, and anything but funny. Now
I propose to take four of our class, and you must select four of yours.
We'll hustle out there the minute school is over to-morrow, and be ready
to receive the marauders when they arrive. Select your girls, but don't
tell them what you want or they may tell some one about it beforehand."
"Well, of all impudence!" exclaimed Anne. "Who are the girls, Julia? Are
you sure they're juniors?"
"The two I heard talking are juniors. I don't know who else is in it.
They'll be very much astonished to find us 'waiting at the
church'--Omnibus House, I mean," said Julia, "and I imagine they'll feel
rather silly, too."
"Tell us who they are, Julia," said Grace. "We don't want to go into
this blindfolded."
"Wait and see," replied Julia tantalizingly. "Then you'll feel more
indignant and can help my cause along all the better. I give you my word
that the girls I overheard talking are not particular friends of yours.
You aren't going to back out, are you, and leave me without proper
support?"
"Of course not," laughed Grace. "Don't worry. We'll support you, only
you must agree to do all the talking."
"I shall endeavor to overcome their insane freshness with a few
well-chosen words," Julia promised. "Be sure and be on hand early."
Grace chose Anne, Nora, Jessica and Marian Barber, the latter three
being considerably mystified at her request, but nevertheless agreeing
to be on hand when school closed. They were met at the gate by Julia and
four other seniors, and the whole party set out for the Omnibus House
without delay.
Grace walked with Julia, and the two girls found plenty to say to each
other during the walk. Julia was studying hard, she told Grace. She
wanted to enter Smith next year.
"I don't know where I shall go after I finish High School," said Grace.
"Ethel Post wants me to go to Wellesley. She'll be a junior when I'm a
freshman. You know, she was graduated from High School last June and she
could help me a lot in getting used to college. But I don't know
whether I should like Wellesley. I shall not try to decide where I want
to go for a while yet."
"Wherever we are we'll write and always be friends," said Julia, and
Grace warmly acquiesced.
As they neared the old Omnibus House they could see no one about.
"We're early!" exclaimed Julia. "The enemy has not arrived. Thank
goodness, it's not cold to-day or we might have a chilly vigil. Now
listen, all ye faithful, while I set forth the object of this walk." She
thereupon related what Grace and Anne already knew.
"What a shame!" cried Marian Barber. "It isn't the hatchet we care for,
it's the principle of the thing. Give them what they deserve, Julia."
"Never fear," replied Julia. "I'll effectually attend to their case. Now
we'd better dodge around the corner and keep out of sight until they get
here. Then we'll swoop down upon them unawares."
The avengers hurriedly concealed themselves at the side of the old house
where they could not be seen by an approaching party.
They had not waited long before they heard voices.
"They're coming," whispered Julia. "There are eight of them. Form in
line and when they get nicely started, we'll circle about them and hem
them in. I'll give you the signal."
The girls waited in silence. "They have trowels," Julia informed them
from time to time. "They have a spade. They've begun to dig, and they
are having their own troubles, for the ground is hard. All ready!
March!"
Softly the procession approached the spot where the marauders were
energetically digging. Grace gave a little gasp, and reaching back
caught Anne's hand.
The girl using the spade was Eleanor.
"Now I'm in for it," groaned Grace. "She's down on me now, and she'll be
sure to think I organized the whole thing." For an instant Grace
regretted making the promise to Julia, before learning the situation;
then, holding her head a trifle more erect, she decided to make the best
of her unfortunate predicament.
"It isn't Julia's fault," she thought. "She probably knows nothing about
our acquaintance with Eleanor; besides, Eleanor has no business to play
such tricks. Edna Wright must have told her all about last year."
Her reflections were cut short, for one of the girls glanced up from her
digging with a sudden exclamation which drew all eyes toward Julia and
her party.
"Well, little folks," said Julia in mock surprise, "what sort of a party
is this? Are you making mud pies or are you pretending you are at the
seashore?"
At Julia's first words Eleanor dropped the small spade she held and
straightened up, the picture of defiance. Her glance traveled from girl
to girl, and she curled her lip contemptuously as her eye rested on
Grace and Anne. The other diggers looked sheepishly at Julia, who stood
eyeing them in a way that made them feel "too foolish for anything," as
one of them afterwards expressed it.
"Why don't you answer me, little girls?" asked Julia. "Has the kitty
stolen your tongue?"
This was too much for Eleanor.
"How dare you speak to us in that manner and treat us as though we were
children?" she burst forth. "What business is it of yours why we are
here? Do you own this property?"
"Mercy, no," replied Julia composedly. "Do you?"
"No," replied Eleanor a trifle less rudely, "but we have as much right
here as you have."
"Granted," replied Julia calmly. "However, there is this difference.
You are here to make mischief and we are here to prevent it, and,
furthermore, are going to do so."
"What do you mean?" retorted Eleanor, her eyes flashing.
"Just this," replied Julia. "Last year the girls belonging to the
present senior and junior classes met on this very spot and amicably
disposed of a two-year-old class grudge. Emblematic of this they buried
a hatchet, once occupying a humble though honorable position in the
Crosby family, but cheerfully sacrificed for the good of the cause.
"Yesterday," continued Julia, "I overheard two juniors plotting to get
possession of this same hatchet for the purpose of flaunting it in the
faces of the seniors at the opening basketball game. Therefore I decided
to take a hand in things, and here I am, backed by girls from both
classes, who are of the self-same mind."
"Really, Miss Crosby," said Edna Wright, "you are very amusing."
"My friends all think so," returned Julia sweetly, "but never mind now
about my amusing qualities, Edna. Let's talk about the present
situation."
She looked at Edna with the old-time aggravating smile that was always
warranted to further incense her opponent. It had its desired effect,
for Edna fairly bristled with indignation and was about to make a
furious reply when she was pushed aside by Eleanor, who said loftily,
"Allow me to talk to this person, Edna."
"No," said Julia resolutely, every vestige of a smile leaving her face
at Eleanor's words. "It would be useless for you to attempt to be
spokesman in this matter, because you are a new girl in High School and
know nothing of past class matters except from hearsay. But you have
with you seven girls who do know all about the enmity that was buried
here last spring, and who ought to have enough good sense to know that
this afternoon's performance is liable to bring it to life again.
"If you girls carry this hatchet to school and exhibit it to the seniors
on the day of the game you are apt to start bad feeling all over again,"
she said, turning to the others. "There are sure to be some girls in the
senior class who would resent it. Neither class has played tricks on the
other since peace was declared, and we don't want to begin now.
"That's the reason I asked Grace to appoint a committee of juniors and
come out here with me. I feel sure that under the circumstances the
absent members of both classes would agree with us if they were present.
Digging up a rusty old hatchet is nothing, but digging up a rusty old
grudge is quite another matter. We didn't come here to quarrel, but I
appeal to you, as members of the junior class, to think before you do
something that is bound to cause us all annoyance and perhaps
unhappiness."
There was complete silence after Julia finished speaking. What she had
said evidently impressed them. Eleanor alone looked belligerent.
"Perhaps we'd better let the old hatchet alone," Daisy Culver said
sullenly. "The fun is all spoiled now, and everyone will know about it
before school begins to-morrow."
"Daisy, how can you say so?" exclaimed Grace, who, fearing a scene with
Eleanor, had hitherto remained silent. "You know perfectly well that
none of us will say anything about it. Why, we came out here simply to
try to prevent your doing something that might stir up trouble again
between the senior and junior classes. There isn't a girl here who would
be so contemptible as to tell any one outside about what has happened
to-day."
This was Eleanor's opportunity. Turning furiously on Grace, her eyes
flashing, she exclaimed: "Yes, there is one girl who would tell
anything, and that girl is you! You pretend to be honorable and
high-principled, but you are nothing but a hypocrite and a sneak.
I would not trust you as far as I could see you. I have no doubt Miss
Crosby obtained her information about this affair to-day from you, and
that everyone in school will hear it from the same source. You seem
determined to meddle with matters that do not concern you, and I warn
you that if you do not change your tactics you may regret it.
"You seem to think yourself the idol of your class, but there are some
of the girls who are too clever to be deceived. They do not belong among
the number who trail tamely after you, either. And now I wish to say
that I despise you and all your friends, and wish never to speak to any
of you again. Come on, girls," she said, turning to the members of her
party, who had listened in silent amazement to her attack upon Grace.
"Let us go. Let them keep their trumpery hatchet."
With these words she turned and stalked across the field to the road,
where her runabout stood. After an instant's hesitation, she was
followed by Edna, Daisy Culver and those who had come with her.
Henceforth there would again be two distinct factions in the junior
class.
"Good gracious," exclaimed Julia Crosby. "Talk about your human
whirlwinds! What on earth did you ever do to her, Grace?"
But Grace could not answer. She was winking hard to keep back the tears.
Twice she attempted to speak and failed. "Never mind her, dear," said
Julia, slipping her arm about Grace, while the other girls gathered
round with many expressions of displeasure at Eleanor's cruel speech.
"I can't help feeling badly," said Grace, with a sob. "She said such
dreadful things."
"No one who knows you would believe them," replied Julia. "By the way,
who is she? I know her name is Savell and that she's a recent arrival in
Oakdale, but considering the plain and uncomplimentary manner in which
she addressed you, you must have seriously offended her ladyship."
"I'll tell you about her as we walk along," replied Grace, wiping her
eyes and smiling a little.
"Yes, we had better be moving," said Julia. "The battle is over. No one
has been killed and only one wounded. Nevertheless, the enemy has
retired in confusion."