THE FRESHMAN RECEPTION
Although Elizabeth was as careful as possible, her moving to and
fro between the two rooms awakened Jean, who, after wishing her
good-morning, offered to arise and help unpack.
"No, Miss Cabot," replied Elizabeth, "it's only five o'clock; please
don't think of getting up yet. I am used to rising early, for I've been
up every morning all summer at five. I'm sorry to have disturbed you.
Can't you get to sleep again? You know I'm to wait on table this year
and Mrs. Thompson wishes me to be in the dining-room at seven to help
in setting the table. I thought I would unpack my trunk and suit-case
before breakfast, for there will be so much for me to do to-day I
probably won't have another opportunity. If you will tell me where to
put things I can get right at work now. Would you mind if I called you
by your first name, it seems so strange to say 'Miss' to the girl I'm
to live with all the year? My name is Elizabeth."
Instantly Jean arose and put on a white silk kimona, splashed with
great pink roses, slipped her feet into some dainty pink silk quilted
slippers and then led the way into the study, where she sat down in the
only empty chair. "Why, of course I want you to call me by my first
name, Elizabeth; it's Jean. How do you like the arrangement of the
rooms so far? My cousin and two of the juniors helped me with it. It
looks very bare, but we bought a lot of things in town yesterday and as
soon as they are sent out we can finish settling. That is your desk and
bookcase and here is your clothes closet. I borrowed one or two of your
hooks, for I couldn't seem to find room enough in my own closet. I'll
take the dresses down now and put them back in the trunk."
"Oh, please don't, Jean; all my dresses together won't fill the hooks
on one side of the closet. You're welcome to this whole side."
"Thank you. Now you can put your pictures and banners anywhere you
choose. We want to make our room as attractive as possible so our
friends will be glad to come and see us."
"I'm afraid I haven't many attractive things for the room. I didn't
know much about college girls' rooms, and besides if I had known I
couldn't have brought them. Father is only a country doctor and could
hardly afford to send me to college at all. It will be a struggle to go
through the four years, but I mean to do it if hard work counts.
"I've never known a real mother, for two years after mother's death my
father married again when I was six and Brother four. Since then we've
had a home and that's about all as far as a mother's concerned. Father
is away most of the time and doesn't know all that happens during
his absence, but we know and never can forget. Fathers don't seem to
understand children very well. Perhaps Brother and I have been more to
each other than most brothers and sisters, for we had to make up for
all that we missed in others. That's the hardest thing for me in coming
to Ashton--to leave Brother at home sick with the fever. He means to
go to college, too, sometime, and after two years here I hope to be
able to teach at home and help him with his education. I don't know why
I'm telling you all this, for I guess it doesn't interest you at all."
"Yes, it does, Elizabeth, for my mother is dead, too, and I have five
brothers and the best father in all the world, and I'm here to please
them, but you can believe I'm going back to them after one year of it."
"What! You could go four years and graduate if you wanted to, and
instead you're only going freshman year? Why, I'd give everything in
the world if I could go through the four years. I've thought of asking
permission to take extra work this year and next, and then if anything
should happen that I could come back a third year I could do the four
years' work in three and graduate. I want a college diploma so much
I'll do anything to get it. But if it's a question of Brother's giving
up a year or of my doing so, it will not be he, for it seems as though
he were always the one to make the sacrifice.
"Have you decided what you are to take this year? There are so many
things I want to take I hardly know what to choose. Tell me your
programme. Wouldn't it be fine if we had the same courses, then we
could study together?"
"I'm going to take as little as I can, for I hate studying. I think
my cousin Nan has made me out too stiff a programme and I'll have to
drop something before I flunk out. I want to keep up my music, anyway,
and practising does take a lot of time. Besides, I have English and
mathematics and German and French and of course oratory and gym,
because they're snap courses."
"I shall take Latin instead of your French, but the other subjects are
what I want, too. In place of your music I'd like some history, for
that's my favorite study. I've read everything I could lay my hands
on in the history line and never could get half enough. I've longed
for the college library with its rows upon rows of books. If ever I'm
missing, be sure to look for me in the library. Do you suppose my being
a day late will make any difference with my work?"
"No, child, for all we did yesterday was to register and pass in
our programmes. You sent them word that you were delayed at home by
sickness in the family and won't be fined, but ordinarily when we fail
to register on time we are fined five dollars. To-day we are to go to
the classes which usually meet on Friday. I have mathematics at nine
and German at ten, and probably you will be in the same divisions. It's
mighty hard to think of studying these glorious days. How I'd enjoy a
twenty-mile horseback ride over the hills this morning! I wonder where
I could hire a horse and if any of the other girls ride."
"Why! you wouldn't cut your recitations the very first day, would you,
Jean?"
"No, I suppose not, but I'd like to mighty well. Don't be surprised at
anything I ever do. Sometimes I fear I can't stand this living by rules
and regulations. I've always done just what I wanted to and when I
wanted to, and I shall probably forget to ask permission to do things,
especially of other girls. I'm not so sure that I approve of student
government."
"Why, it seems to me the fairest way, and I'm sure you will like it
after you become used to it. Now that I've finished unpacking I think
I'll just write a few lines to Brother, for he'll be waiting very
impatiently for my first letter. Can't you go to sleep again?"
"No, I think I'll write letters, too. I haven't had a minute before,
and I promised Tom and father faithfully that I'd write to them." And
soon the two girls were writing as though their life depended upon
it, and did not stop until the rising bell sounded. Elizabeth was as
startled as Jean had been on the previous morning, but it did not take
long to explain it to her. Soon she started downstairs for her duties
in the dining-room, but hesitated a little and said, "Jean, may I go to
chapel with you this morning?"
"Yes, we freshmen in the house agreed last night to go together; our
seats are to be in the right aisle directly back of the sophs. They say
ours is the largest entering class on record, so some of us may have to
sit in the annex. Let's go by a quarter-past eight, anyway, so as to be
in the main chapel. After chapel exercises I'll take you to the office
and help you with your registration."
When the seven freshmen from Merton walked up to chapel, six of them
felt very green indeed, but Jean held her head high and displayed her
usual composure. But when they took their places with the other three
classes and at a given signal rose while the hundred or so seniors in
cap and gown marched slowly down the center aisle to their seats on the
left, Jean felt for the first time the insignificance of a freshman and
wondered just how it would seem to be a senior.
Miss Emerson welcomed the incoming class in such a way that Jean felt
drawn to her at once. She was not at all what she had pictured a
college president to be, and there was something so sweet and lovable
about her that Jean thought she came nearer to the mother she had
always pictured to herself than anybody else she had ever seen. Most
of the faculty seats were occupied, and Jean noticed that many of the
professors were young and good-looking in spite of their degrees and
reputed knowledge.
After chapel Jean and Elizabeth hastened to the registrar's office and
Elizabeth was enrolled as a freshman. Just as they were leaving the
building two seniors in cap and gown stopped them and one of them said,
"This is Miss Cabot and her room-mate, Miss Fairfax, is it not? I am
Miss Wright and this is Miss Farnsworth. We would like to invite you
to be our special guests at the senior reception to the freshmen and
faculty on a week from Monday evening in the Gym. You live in Merton, I
believe? We will call for you there at about half-past eight."
The two freshmen were glad to accept the invitation, and after a few
general remarks about recitations the seniors hurried away.
"Jean, did you notice the little star-shaped pins both of those seniors
wore on their shirtwaists? What are they for?"
"I suppose they must be their society pins. Societies are like
fraternities in the men's colleges. They are secret organizations, and
about twenty-five girls belong to each one. I don't know much about
them except what Tom told me."
"Oh," said Elizabeth, "I should like to join one, wouldn't you?"
"I guess it isn't for us to say, Elizabeth. You see, the girls are very
particular whom they ask, and only a few are chosen from each class."
"Oh, you'll be chosen, Jean; you needn't worry about that."
"I'm not so sure about it. I suppose it will soon be time for
mathematics. O dear, how I dread it! Your division doesn't meet to-day,
does it? You ought to be thankful for that. I'm going upstairs now to
see where Room 21 is. Good-by; see you later."
At the top of the stairs she met Marjorie Remington, who stopped her.
"Oh, Miss Cabot, have you received your invitation to the freshman
reception yet?"
"Yes, Miss Wright and Miss Farnsworth just stopped Elizabeth and me
downstairs and invited us to go with them."
"Oh, you should feel much honored, for they are two of the most popular
girls in the senior class, and Miss Wright is class president. But I
think the reception is an awful bore, just standing around and meeting
a lot of girls and faculty you don't care anything about, and dancing
in between times. Still a freshman makes a big mistake to cut it, and I
advise you to go.
"What's your first recitation--can I take you to the class room?
There's the bell now. But wait a minute. Here comes a girl I want you
to meet. It's Lill Spalding, sophomore basket-ball captain and one
of the nicest girls in North Hall. I've invited her in town with us
to-morrow."
The three girls became so interested in their plans for the following
day that Mathematics I. was almost forgotten, and when Marjorie
remembered she was to show Jean the room it was fully five minutes
after the hour.
Stopping before a door marked "21" Marjorie said, "Here it is, and Miss
Hooper is in charge. Oh, she's fierce; I pity you. I had Miss Baldwin,
who's a regular cinch. I'll meet you here at the end of the hour if you
like."
As Jean entered the room Miss Hooper was just reading the class list
and she heard "Miss Cabot" ring out distinctly in the stillness of the
large room.
"Here," said Jean, and she sank into the only vacant chair in the front
row directly in front of the desk.
Miss Hooper paused, looked up quickly from her class book and said
sharply, "Five minutes late. A very bad beginning, Miss Cabot; remember
hereafter, please, that this class meets promptly at nine o'clock."
It was on Jean's tongue to say that she had lost her way, but something
restrained her. Miss Hooper explained that the work of the year would
be divided into three parts, algebra the first third of the year,
geometry the second, and trigonometry the last. The class were to
use Wells's College Algebra, which they could buy at the college
book-store. The first lesson would be the problems on page 47.
"And now, class, let us spend the rest of the hour reviewing a little.
Miss Cabot, you may explain what is meant by the 'binomial theorem.'"
Poor Jean tried to collect her scattered senses enough to answer the
question. She remembered there was such a thing as this binomial
theorem, but what it was she could not have told had her life depended
upon it. After waiting as long as she dared she answered in a low
voice, "I do not know." Miss Hooper looked annoyed and repeated the
question to Miss Caldow, next on the list, who, to Jean's disgust,
jumped on her feet and recited glibly and entirely to Miss Hooper's
satisfaction.
"Very well done, Miss Caldow. I see no reason why the entire class
should not be perfectly familiar with the theorem. No one can expect
to do any kind of work in advanced algebra unless she has a thorough
foundation in the elementary work. Miss Cabot, you will please look up
the binomial theorem and be prepared to recite it at the next meeting
of the class."
Jean thought the hour would never end, but when at last the class was
excused she rushed from the room almost into the arms of Marjorie
Remington who was waiting for her just outside the door. "Well, honey,
how did Mathematics I. go?"
"Terribly. I never want to see Miss Hooper again and I'll not take
her old mathematics course another day. I don't know anything about
algebra, and she pounced on me first one to explain the binomial
theorem, and because I didn't know it she insulted me before the whole
class."
"Just like her. Isn't she the most sarcastic person you ever knew? She
can say more hateful things in fifteen minutes than any one I know. Why
don't you drop mathematics and take something else in its place? You
can take it up again next year."
"Next year, indeed; thank goodness I'll be far away from Ashton College
by that time! One year's enough for me. But tell me, can I really drop
mathematics?"
"Sure you can. I dropped Latin the first day last year and I'm just
beginning it again, but I doubt if I ever pass it. All you've got to
do is to go down to the office and give some reasonable excuse for
dropping mathematics and offer something else in its place. They don't
care when you take the required subjects as long as you finish them
before senior year."
"But what can I take instead of mathematics?"
"Miss Cushing has a fine course in philosophy first half-year, and
psychology second half. It's a lecture course, only her exams are
stiff, but if you read up in her book in the library you'll get by all
right. If you're only going to be here one year you don't care much for
making records, do you?"
"No. Leave that to my room-mate, she's out for real study and nothing
else. Aren't we the great combination? But still there's something
about her I like; and I pity her, too, for she's had a hard time all
her life. I nearly forgot, I have a German recitation now, so I'll have
to leave the mathematics proposition until later."
German was delightful, as Fräulein Weimer in her broken English
explained the work of the year and then talked to the class in German,
telling them stories and quoting poems. Jean felt a little calmer
as she left the room, but with the memory of her first recitation
still burning in her mind she hurried to the office. She explained
to the secretary that she felt so poorly prepared in mathematics that
she wished to leave that work until another year and take philosophy
in its place. She understood that mathematics, although a required
subject, could be taken any one of the first three years. She was given
permission to do as she wished, and hastened to Miss Cushing's room to
make further arrangements. In the hall she met Miss Hooper, who stopped
her and said, "Am I right in understanding that Miss Anna Maitlandt is
your cousin? Do tell me where she is and what she is going to do this
year. I have wanted to know very much, but have not heard from her all
summer."
"Yes," replied Jean, "Miss Maitlandt is my cousin and she was out here
on Wednesday and Thursday, but was obliged to return to Framington
early because she is to enter the Massachusetts General Hospital the
first of October to begin a three-years' training course. She was
abroad all summer and only returned last week, so she has a great deal
to do in a short time."
"Oh, I am so sorry not to have seen her, for I always enjoyed her
so much. What does she mean by burying herself in a hospital? She's
altogether too brilliant for that." Just then some one came up to ask
Miss Hooper a question and as she excused herself Jean passed on,
muttering to herself, "Horrid old thing! I suppose she wants to impress
upon me how brilliant my cousin was here. Wait till she misses me in
mathematics on Monday and perhaps she'll realize she can't make her
cutting, sarcastic remarks to every freshman in college."
The days were full and happy ones, and Monday night arrived with
the annual freshman reception. After supper Marjorie Remington went
upstairs with Jean and offered to help her dress. "What shall I wear,
Marjorie?" said Jean.
"All your dresses are such perfect dreams I don't know which one I like
the best. But let me have another look at them. Dangerous business,
though, letting me see them, for I may be tempted to borrow some of
them one of these days. Now, after all, I think this figured chiffon
is the best for to-night, it's so different from anything I have ever
seen. I'm crazy to see you in it."
It did not take long for Jean to do her hair and get into the chiffon
dress. It was a peculiar chiffon, a light pink background shot with
black and pink roses made up over a soft pink silk lining. The dress
was low and showed off to advantage Jean's firm white throat and neck,
and the sleeves came just above her elbows. The skirt reached only to
her ankles and her stockings and slippers were of a delicate pink.
Around her neck on a narrow band of black velvet was a small diamond
star which sparkled with wonderful brilliancy. "There, will I do?"
and she danced over gayly to Marjorie, who lay on the couch as though
exhausted after her labors.
"Do? Why you are the most wonderful creature I've ever seen! You'll
take everybody by storm. Wait till Jack sees you. I'm going to make him
invite us out to his frat's first dance. You see, Jack's at Harvard
and knows all the big men in his class. I have the best times in the
world whenever I can get out there for anything. The only trouble is
it's such awful hard work getting off the hill for the night. One of
my aunts lives in Newton and she's perfectly willing to chaperon me or
let me stay at her house all night, but she travels so much of the time
that she's always away when I want her most. I hate taking one of the
faculty with me, for they're such awful sticks. I don't see any need of
chaperons anyway, but they'd make an awful fuss out here if a girl went
anywhere without them."
Just then the door opened and a cheery voice began, "Have you started
dressing yet?" but when the eyes of the speaker fell on the vision of
loveliness before her she stopped short and just gazed.
Miss Remington arose, saying, "I guess it's time for me to go, I'm not
needed any longer. Hope you'll have a good time, Miss Cabot," and she
brushed by Elizabeth and banged the door after her.
"Oh, Jean, have I interrupted you? I didn't mean to. Miss Remington
seems to have taken a violent dislike to me. What have I done to her?"
"Nothing, Elizabeth; she doesn't mean anything, but she's rather
brusque at times, I guess."
"How beautiful you look, Jean, but I can't go with you. I haven't
anything except my graduation dress and you'll be ashamed of me in
that."
"Nonsense, child; let me help you dress. You'll be too sweet for words
in that dainty white muslin I saw hanging in your closet. Let me do
your hair low and tuck this rose at one side; it will bring out the
color in your cheeks. And I've a coral pink sash I'm going to drape
around your waist and with those coral pink beads father gave me just
before I started you'll be a symphony in white and pink."
Indeed she did look sweet in her simple white gown and excitement made
her big eyes sparkle more than was their wont. "Do you know, Jean, I've
never been to a real big reception like this before. I can't dance, but
I shall enjoy just sitting and watching the others. Sometime I hope
to learn if I ever have the time. It's only eight now, we have half an
hour before the girls will come for us. Let's read over some German. I
haven't quite finished the assignment."
"Not to-night, Elizabeth. I'm not in the mood for studying. Perhaps
I'll get up early in the morning and read over a little with you. I
made a good recitation to-day and that ought to do for a while. I'm
going over in Marjorie's room; you can call me when the girls arrive."
Elizabeth sat down at her desk to study alone, a little disappointed
in Jean, for she knew she had been playing tennis all the afternoon
and had made no preparation for the next day. After she had read about
three pages a maid announced the arrival of their escorts, so she
called Jean and the two girls hastened down the stairs.
It did not take long to reach the Gymnasium, which was ablaze with
lights. As they entered the main hall they paused to survey the scene
of beauty before them. The massive building was transformed into
a vast autumn out-of-doors, for golden rod and purple asters and
bright-colored leaves were everywhere. The orchestra was concealed at
one end of the hall, and played softly as the seniors introduced their
guests to each other and to the faculty.
Jean and Elizabeth were given dance-orders, but Elizabeth timidly said,
"I don't dance, Miss Farnsworth."
"That doesn't make a particle of difference, dear; lots of the girls
don't, and perhaps you'd like to keep the dance-order as a souvenir for
your memorabilia, for of course you will have one; all freshmen do. You
will have partners just the same for all the dances and get acquainted
just as quickly as though you were on the floor dancing. You must learn
to dance as soon as possible, though, for it means so many good times
here. Now let us meet the faculty."
Jean felt a little dismayed at the thought of meeting Miss Hooper, but
she soon found herself shaking hands with her and heard her say, "Later
in the evening, Miss Cabot, I hope I may have the pleasure of eating an
ice with you in the faculty alcove. Can you spare me a few moments?"
Jean answered that she would be very pleased to, although she felt she
was in for an explanation of her non-appearance in the mathematics
class, and dreaded it.
Every member of the faculty seemed to be particularly interested in
every freshman who was introduced to her and had something pleasant
to say to them all. They seemed to have entirely forgotten their
mannerisms and the severity of the class rooms. Jean looked long and
earnestly at Miss Emerson and wished she might stand and talk to her
indefinitely, but the long line of waiting freshmen pushed her quickly
along, and she determined to find time later in the evening to ask her
a few questions.
Before long the dancing began and Jean found herself passed on from
one girl to another; some who danced well and some who did not; some
who did nothing but ask questions; some who persisted in telling their
whole family history in five minutes; some tall, some short, some
handsome, some homely, but all college girls filled with the spirit of
good fellowship. Once or twice she rushed over to where Elizabeth was
sitting with whom she had deposited her gloves, fan, handkerchief and
dance-order, and usually found her silently listening to the pearls of
wisdom which fell from the lips of the senior sitting beside her.
About half-past ten Elizabeth said to her, "Jean, I have just been
talking with Miss Hooper and she wishes to know if you will look for
her in the faculty alcove after the next dance."
Jean was tempted to ignore the invitation and all through the next
two-step turned the matter over and over in her mind and was so
absorbed that her partner wondered what the other girls had found so
attractive in this good-looking freshman who apparently could not
talk. However, when the music stopped Jean said very casually, "Will
you please tell me where the faculty alcove is?" and on being shown
she very slowly approached the corner. The dim lights revealed Miss
Hooper among a pile of cushions. She wondered how she could ever talk
to her and what she should say. When Miss Hooper perceived her she
called out, "Oh, Miss Cabot, come right in. I have been waiting for you
and hoping Miss Fairfax would not forget to deliver my message. Make
yourself comfortable here while we enjoy these delicious ices. First, I
want to talk to you about your charming cousin. We were interrupted the
other day before you had told me half I wanted to know."
Just then every light in the Gymnasium went out and left the place in
total darkness and a strong chorus burst into song.
"Oh, you green freshmen, green freshmen, green freshmen;
Oh, you green freshmen, come list to our song.
We're going to haze you, to haze you, to haze you;
We're going to haze you before very long."
Over and over again they sang the lines, louder and louder each time.
Red-fire burned outside the building and groups of girls with their
hands joined danced wildly around the red lights.
"It's the sophomores," said Miss Hooper; "every year they try to
break up the freshman reception. It has become a tradition, but one
I believe should be abolished," and she slipped out into the main
hall. The seniors found it was impossible to turn on the electricity,
but hurried here and there and borrowed enough lanterns from obliging
janitors to light the Gymnasium dimly. The music continued and the
girls danced as though nothing had happened and thought it all the more
fun to disappoint the sophs, who imagined the dance would be given up
when the lights gave out. Partners had claimed Jean, and the dreaded
interview with Miss Hooper ended almost where it had begun. At length
the dancing stopped and after the good nights had been said Jean and
Elizabeth and the two seniors wended their way homeward.
"What a mean thing it was to break up your reception," said Elizabeth
to Miss Farnsworth.
"Oh, it wasn't wholly unexpected," she replied; "there is always great
rivalry between the two lower classes and one never can tell when it
will break out. You'll find this is only the beginning. Be on the
watch, but take everything that's done in good spirit, for you must
remember you'll be sophs next year and can pay it all back on the next
entering class."
Soon they reached Merton Hall and found other freshmen saying good
night to their escorts. Soon the great outer door was closed and the
weary freshmen started upstairs. When Elizabeth and Jean reached 45
they found the door locked and on it a piece of paper which they tore
down and carried over to the hall light to read. These words met their
astonished gaze:
"Oh, you green freshmen, green freshmen, green freshmen,
Oh, you green freshmen, pray don't try your door.
We'll give you a mattress, a mattress, a mattress,
We'll give you a mattress, to sleep on the floor."
"Well, I must say I think this is carrying things altogether too far,"
said Jean indignantly. "Who ever heard of sleeping on the hall floor?"
By this time the other freshmen had joined them, reporting similar
experiences at their rooms. One girl came down from the fifth floor,
whispering, "Isn't this the limit! In front of my door is a double
mattress spread on the floor with a blanket or two over it. Come
upstairs, all of you and let's make ourselves as comfortable as we can
and to-morrow we'll begin to plan our revenge on the sophs."
Jean was the most reluctant to go, and as she followed the others down
the hall she cast one look over at 47 and said, "And to think she
pretended to be my friend!" Then an idea seemed to come to her and she
said, "Wait a minute girls; of course some of the seniors are up, so we
can put our good clothes in their rooms and borrow some kimonas. But
even if they want us to sleep in their rooms let's not accept their
invitations. Let's drag that mattress down from fifth and put in front
of some soph's room, say Marjorie Remington's, as close as possible
to the door and give her a big surprise when she tries to walk out
to-morrow morning."
The girls laughed at the thought of the joke and hurried to the rooms
of the seniors to tell them what the sophs had done and to ask them for
help in carrying out Jean's bright suggestions. Before long they had
carried down everything the sophs had left them on fifth floor to 47
and worked so carefully that no one heard them. Then the seven girls
lay down on the mattress very near together to be sure, and were soon
asleep forgetting the cares of their little world.