CAROL SLIDES
The balmy May afternoon saw the baseball game between the Freshmen and
the Sophomores taking place on the athletic field behind Carver Hall.
The players were most enthusiastic about this latest undertaking of
theirs. It seemed most of the girls in the school had turned out to see
this tussle between two feminine baseball teams and to hail the victor.
Janet, with supreme confidence in her own ability, had elected herself
pitcher for the Freshmen. The girls had played several games and Janet
had been pretty good, if not particularly brilliant. Carol, to support
her pal, was catcher. Valerie was acting first baseman and Madge was
shortstop. Their gymnastics teacher was the umpire and the Freshmen were
sometimes suspicious of her friendly feeling toward the Sophomores.
However, the nine Freshmen elected “Do or Die!” as their motto and went
into the game with all the vigor and speed at their command.
But alas, the Sophomores were also good. They had experience added to
their playing ability and for the first three innings scored four runs
to the Freshmen’s one. Janet, finding herself up against excellent
batting ability, became nervous. Her throws to the home plate were a
little wild and two girls walked to base.
Carol met Janet halfway between the pitcher’s mound and the home plate
where the next Sophomore stood swinging her bat.
“Are you good!” Carol scoffed. “I thought you were the world’s wonder
woman pitcher. I’m beginning to believe you are the world’s worst.”
“That’s gratitude for you!” Janet sighed. “Here I nearly throw my arm
out of joint and I get no credit from you.”
“I told you to throw them a little low for Agnes and you didn’t. You
deliberately threw the ball at her bat. All she had to do was stand
still and let it hit. It cost us another run.”
“So what?” Janet said wearily.
“Come on, toots, do your stuff,” Carol encouraged. “We’ve got to strike
this girl out.”
“Brackity saxe, saxe, saxe,
Brackity saxe, saxe, saxe,
Y-e-a, Freshmen!”
The spectators chanted loudly and enthusiastically. Gale and Phyllis led
the Freshmen rooting section in an uproarious cheer. They yelled with
all the abandon of children on a spree.
Janet beamed upon the crowd and swung the ball.
“St-uh-rike one!”
Carol ran out and handed the ball to Janet.
“Swell, pal!” she declared.
Janet beamed again and threw the ball.
“St-uh-rike two!” The Instructor was having as much fun out of the game
as the girls were.
Janet, concentrating on the batter before her, had momentarily forgotten
the girls on first and second base. The Sophomore on second base was an
adventurous soul and now she took advantage of the pitcher’s absorption
to steal to third. Halfway there Janet saw her and threw the ball wildly
to Madge, the short stop. The Sophomore dived for the base. The baseman
received the ball from Madge while the Sophomore turned and dashed madly
back toward second. The ball went again to Madge. The Sophomore tried
once more for third base. The runner see-sawed back and forth until she
was finally caught and pronounced out.
The Freshmen were jubilant, especially Janet and Carol. The pitcher
returned to the work at hand and the batter-up was struck out.
The innings went on until the ninth. At that time the score stood twelve
to ten in favor of the Sophomores. Janet had been relieved in the
pitcher’s position by another Freshman. However, in the last inning she
returned.
Somehow the Freshmen managed to keep the score the same. They did not
let the Sophomores score again and the side retired. The Freshmen were
at bat.
“I don’t like the wicked look in that pitcher’s eye,” Janet said as she
stood beside Carol watching Valerie at bat.
“You probably won’t hit the ball either,” Carol pronounced sadly as
Valerie struck out.
“Is that so?” Janet bristled with indignation. “Maybe I haven’t made a
home run this game yet but I’ve been waiting for a crucial moment.”
“It looks like this is it,” Carol laughed. “There goes another one of
our girls—out!” She sighed. “Ho, hum, we might as well give in. We need
two runs, but we’ll never make them with only one more girl—and you are
it.”
Janet frowned on her. “I’ll hit that ball if it is the last thing I do!”
Carol’s eyes twinkled as she watched Janet take her place before the
catcher.
“She is angry,” Madge commented.
“I tried to make her mad,” Carol confessed. “When she is stirred up she
plays much better.”
“St-uh-rike one!”
Carol made a wry face at Janet. The latter frowned more viciously and
gripped the bat securely in both hands. Carol nudged Madge
significantly.
“She is really cross now.”
The spectators were hushed. The game depended on Janet and what she did.
“St-uh-rike two!”
“Woe is me!” Carol murmured. “My psychology didn’t work.”
“She has one more chance,” Madge said. “If she only gets on base and
then someone else makes a run——”
“Two runs to tie the score! It might as well be ten,” Carol said
pessimistically.
“Look! Look!” Madge cried gleefully. “She did it! She socked that old
ball way out——”
Janet had swung with all her strength and hit the ball squarely, sending
it high into the air over second base. The Sophomore in her effort to
get it overshot the mark and fumbled. Janet was away like a shot to
first base, past first and safe on second!
“I hope I do as well,” Carol remarked.
She was the next batter up. The Freshmen were still howling with delight
over Janet’s hit. The first was a foul ball. The second attempt Carol
missed. But the third time! Like Janet, the necessity for action brought
cool determination and steadied her. She hit the ball a resounding smack
that sent it bounding along the third base line.
Janet was off to third base while Carol sped to first. Both girls were
safe.
Now the game looked particularly bright for the Freshmen. With two girls
on bases they had a good chance to even the score. But if one more was
pronounced out the game was over and lost. Another Freshman stepped up
to the home plate. She was nervous but determined.
Janet took several steps away from third base but kept a wary eye on the
pitcher. She simply must get in and score! She looked at Carol.
Carol was edging away from the security of first base. The pitcher was
looking at Carol. Janet went a little farther toward home. Carol
suddenly dived toward second. The pitcher threw the ball to the second
base. The baseman missed it and it bounded a few feet away. By the time
the ball was secured Carol was safe on second base and Janet had stolen
home.
The Freshmen fans were wild. They cheered lustily. Their team needed
only one run to tie the score now!
The Sophomore pitcher seemed to have lost her grip on the situation. The
Freshman at bat walked to first base. The next girl also walked. That
forced Carol to third base. What a chance now to tie the score—even to
win the game!
Carol watched the pitcher closely. She edged away from the base. The
baseman followed. It all happened very suddenly. Carol in her exuberance
and confidence in having stolen to second base once, thought she could
do the same thing again. The pitcher was watching the strange motions of
the girl at first base when Carol dived for the home plate. With
lightning rapidity the pitcher whirled and tossed the ball. In a cloud
of dust and cinders Carol slid into the catcher.
“Out!” the umpire said firmly, indisputably.
The Sophomores were jubilant, their team had won! The Freshmen were
downcast, but they did their best to hide it.
“Of all the dizzy tricks——” Carol derided herself.
“You did great,” Janet defended surprisingly. “We gave them a thrill
anyway.”
“But I had to spoil our big chance,” Carol wailed. “If I had only
waited——”
“What’s the difference?” Valerie said gayly. “They only beat us by one
point.”
“And I hit the ball,” Janet reminded her friend. “What did you say about
my not being able to even see it?”
“I take it all back,” Carol said humbly. Then she bristled with
indignation. “I think I was safe at home, and I also think the umpire
was on the Sophomores’ side!”
“Tush!” Janet said. “Let’s change and join Gale and Phyl.”
For all of the other girls’ levity Carol was inconsolable. She felt
responsible for the girls losing the game and even though they in no way
chided her or scolded she blamed herself.
“It was the best ball game I ever saw,” Phyllis declared when they were
all united on the East Campus Dormitory steps. “I never thought girls
could play such good baseball.”
“You have no idea what we can do,” Janet told her condescendingly. “You
should see us pull taffy.”
“Whoops! How exciting,” Madge laughed.
“Exciting or not, it is a good idea,” Janet said. She beamed upon Gale
and Phyllis. “If you two sorority sisters could find a way to come up
and see us tonight we might have a taffy pull.”
“We’ll be there,” Phyllis promised promptly. “Nothing could induce me to
miss it.”
“See you tonight then,” Carol yawned. “I’m going to get some last minute
studying in on my Geometry. Tomorrow is our final exam.”
The other four girls disappeared within the dormitory house while Gale
and Phyllis strolled toward Happiness House in the afternoon sunset.
“Let’s go see White Star,” Phyllis proposed. “We have plenty of time
before dinner.”
White Star was the mount in the stables which Phyllis had chosen for her
own when she first started to ride two days before. She had long before
visited the stables with the other girls and made friends with the black
horse who had the white star on his forehead from which he got his name.
She had ridden, too, that summer in Arizona but just two days ago had
she begun her proper training at Briarhurst. Every day found her
participating more and more in the activities which she had at first
pursued when she came to college. Gale, too, did not need to act for
Phyllis any more as president pro tem of the Freshman class. Phyllis was
now able to attend to all the business in which she was involved.
There were no riding classes this afternoon and all the horses were in
their stalls with only one groom on guard. White Star whinnied softly at
the girls’ approach. He was a magnificent animal—sturdy, and his satiny
coat was smooth and shiny. He nuzzled Phyllis’ shoulder with his soft
nose.
“Get away, old softie,” she said smiling. “Want some sugar?”
Eagerly the horse thrust his nose into her hand and secured the white
lump.
“Do you carry a supply of sugar with you?” Gale laughed. “Every time you
come here you have some and White Star knows it. He would follow you
back to the sorority house if he could get out.”
Phyllis rubbed White Star’s forehead.
“He is a great horse,” she said, “the only one I’ll ride here at
school.” She brought forth another piece of sugar from her pocket. “That
is the last!” she warned.
With a final pat for White Star the girls left the stall. The horse sent
a soft whinny after them.
“The Dean is a lot more popular with the girls now than she was before,
isn’t she?” Phyllis murmured. “The new organ in the chapel, these riding
lessons—everything has won the girls over.”
It was true. The resentment against the Dean had miraculously faded with
the realization that everything she planned was really for the benefit
of the school and the girls there. All trouble had ceased with the
departure of Miss Horton. Now Briarhurst was the most peaceful and
harmonious spot in the world. But sometimes even the most blissful peace
is rudely disturbed.