THE CHAFING-DISH PARTY
"Elizabeth, have the girls announced the date of the French play?"
"Yes, I think it's December eighteenth, the Wednesday night before
college closes. Of course you're going?"
"Yes, and I've been thinking I'd invite Constance Huntington out for
the play and have a rabbit afterward. I haven't made anything but
fudge in my chafing-dish since I bought it, and it's about time I did.
We could have ten or twelve of the girls in after the play and get
permission to stay up a little later than usual. I think I'll write
Connie to-day and invite her out. Would you mind sleeping with Anne
Cockran that night so Connie could have your bed?"
"Why, of course not, Jean; I'd be glad to do it and anything else I
can to help you. Who's in the play?"
"I don't know many of them, but Peggy Allison is to be a man and Alice
Cunningham's got the star girl's part. They say she's a wonder when
it comes to acting. Then Bess Atherton and Joe Knight and Fliss White
and Mary Brownell are in it, but I don't know the rest very well. None
of the girls from my division are in the club, for you have to be at
least a soph, to be eligible and then only a small proportion of the
upper-class girls make it, for you have to get high rank in French. Oh
dear, I'd never make it if I studied a hundred years. I can't seem to
get it through this stupid old head of mine, and as for talking it and
acting it too--why, it's simply beyond my comprehension."
Jean wrote her letter to Constance and soon received word that she
would be delighted to accept the invitation and would be out early in
the afternoon, but she would have to take the first train back in the
morning as she had a lesson at noon.
The morning of the eighteenth was dull and cloudy, and before noon it
was snowing hard and had every appearance of a bad storm. Jean stood at
the window after dinner and watched the whirling snowflakes. "She won't
come, I know she won't come, if it snows like this, and after I've
gone and made all those elaborate preparations I call it a mean shame.
Lucky I went down to the Square yesterday and bought the food, for I
shouldn't enjoy lugging things home to-day in this storm. Well, if she
doesn't come we'll celebrate just the same. I hope it won't be so deep
by night that we can't get up to the gym. I think I'll do my packing
now, for I sha'n't have much more time before the train starts unless
I sit up to-night after the girls go. You tell your people, Elizabeth,
that I'm very much obliged for their dandy invitation for the holidays,
but I simply can't postpone my New York visit again. But there are
other vacations coming, and I'll be pretty glad to go home with you
then. Here's a box I want you to put into your suit-case, but it's not
to be opened until Christmas morning, and this letter's for Dick, but
it's so valuable I won't trust it to Uncle Sam and I want you to put
it in his stocking, or if he's too old to hang up his stocking you can
put it under his plate at breakfast. I wonder when my box from home
will arrive. Father wrote me he had sent it. We always hang up our
stockings at home Christmas Eve and then have a big Christmas tree at
night. It's the first time I've ever missed it, and unless I'm having
an awfully good time in New York, I'll be pretty homesick."
Jean worked hard at her packing and after she had finished she went
downstairs to do a little practising. The piano was so arranged that
she had a good view of Faculty Row and it must be confessed that she
kept her eyes there as much as on her music. At last she saw Constance
battling against the wind and the snow and she ran to the door to greet
her. "Oh, I'm so glad you've come, Constance! I was afraid you couldn't
get over here. Are the cars on time, or did you come by train?"
"I went across the city on the Elevated and took the train out. It
isn't deep enough yet to affect the trains, but it will be soon if it
keeps up like this. The wind is so strong it's beginning to drift.
By morning I may not be able to get back or you to go to New York. I
thought I'd never get up the Row; as it is, my feet are soaked. Let
me borrow your slippers and some dry stockings and I'll be all right.
I'm crazy to see your room, Jean. Those snapshots you sent are mighty
attractive, but I know the original's lots better."
"Fine," said Constance after she had stepped into 45. "It's so simple,
not packed brimful with the useless trifles one generally sees in
college girls' rooms. You can find your way around in these rooms
all right. You ought to see the box I live in. Positively we have to
move some of our furniture out into the hall at night before we can
get undressed and into bed. You don't mind if I look around, do you?
I love new things. What a splendid picture of Tom! He didn't give me
one; guess I'll have to remind him of it. What's this picture of an old
farmhouse on your desk?"
"That's my room-mate's home in Newburgh. You know I spent the
Thanksgiving holidays there and quite fell in love with the place."
"With the place or somebody on the place? Come, Jean, 'fess up'; don't
keep any secrets from me."
"Well, both, Connie; they're the nicest family I've met in the East.
Here, put on these stockings and slippers and dry your feet on the
radiator or you'll catch your death-o'-cold. Then we'll go downstairs
and see some of the girls. I've invited a few up here after the play,
but I promised one or two who are very anxious to meet you that I'd
take you in to see them before supper. I hope you'll like the girls
out here. I think they're a mighty jolly lot. My room-mate is studying
algebra in one of the freshman rooms, but she'll be back before long.
She's quiet, but there's ever so much to her."
Presently they started down to Peggy Allison's room and found she and
Natalie had made tea for them and had sandwiches, nuts and candy.
"You'll spoil our appetites for supper, Peggy, with all this glorious
feed."
"Just as well, Jean," said Peggy; "it's Wednesday night and we always
have beans. I think baked beans on Saturdays and Wednesdays, too, is
the limit."
"Well," said Natalie, "let's not go down for supper. We can stay here
and eat all we want to. I don't believe Peg will eat anything, she's so
excited. She's been rehearsing all the afternoon, and all the morning
she worked on the scenery. She's got a stunning costume and make-up.
Wait till you see her and you'll say she's the handsomest cavalier
you've ever set eyes on, and fall in love with her on the spot. Isn't
it a shame it's storming so hard? I don't believe half of the guests
will come, but perhaps Mlle. Franchant will let them repeat it after
vacation. It's a shame after everybody has worked so hard."
"Thanks for your invitation for supper, Nat, but I think Constance and
I had better go downstairs, for I want her to see our dining-room and
the girls. Why, there's the bell this minute and we intended to go into
some of the other rooms. Good luck to you, Peggy; I know you'll be the
bright and shining star. Oh, where is your seat, Natalie? Ours are in
'G.' We freshmen in the house got some together. Don't forget you two
are coming up to our room after the play. I've got permission for us
to stay up till eleven o'clock, so if the play is late, hustle down as
soon as you can."
The play was held in the gymnasium, and by eight o'clock it was crowded
to the doors in spite of the storm. The girls were greatly disappointed
that they could not wear their best-looking gowns, but it was dangerous
to risk them in the drifting snow, so most of them wore light waists
with their dark skirts. The French play always was considered one of
the events of the year and anticipated by the whole college. This
year the play presented was "Andromaque," and given wonderfully well.
Of course the most interesting parts were those where the girls took
the parts of men. As the masculine element were not invited to attend
the performance, the girls felt free to dress as fancy prompted them
and, as Natalie had said, "did make perfectly stunning men." All the
girls did well, and unless one were prejudiced, one had to admit that
one girl did no better than another. There was so much applause and
encoring that it was nearly ten before the last act began.
For some time Jean had been getting nervous and every little while
whispered to Constance, "If they don't finish soon we won't have any
time for the rabbit. Usually we can't have company in our rooms after
ten, but to-night is a special occasion and the girls can stay till
eleven. An hour isn't very long for a party."
"This is great, Jean," said Constance; "I don't understand one word of
French, but I think it's stacks of fun to watch them. It's the first
time I've ever seen girls play men's parts. Never mind if we don't have
time for the rabbit; it isn't the best thing in the world to be eating
at eleven o'clock at night, you know."
"Well," said Jean, "I shall be disappointed if we don't make it. I've
been wanting some for ages. Oh, I know this must be the end. Wasn't it
splendid? Now I feel lots better that it's over. Come on, girls! Hustle
up; you've all got to help me. Don't get lost in the snowdrifts, for
it wouldn't be any fun to-night to have to hunt you up."
The six freshmen and Constance went down to the Hall together and up
into 45; a little later came Marjorie Remington and Sallie Lawrence and
Grace Hooper and Natalie Lawton. "Where's Peggy?" asked Jean.
"She'll be here in a moment; she stopped to wash off a little of the
paint and get into some decent clothes."
"Oh," said Grace Hooper, "why didn't she come the way she was? Wasn't
she perfectly adorable? I'd be only too glad to let her make love to
me. I'm going to try for the French club next year."
"Now, Grace," said Jean, "make yourself useful as well as ornamental.
Please beat this egg. You'll have to use a fork; it's the nearest thing
to an egg-beater I can find. Marjorie, will you put the crackers on the
plates? Sallie, cut up the cheese, will you?" and she gave everybody
something to do. By the time the work was all distributed, Peggy burst
into the room crying, "_J'ai faim, j'ai faim, mes chères enfants._ Oh,
I forgot, I mustn't make so much noise; it's after ten and some of the
girls are trying to get to sleep, but I'm so tickled the old French
play is over at last that I could shout for joy. Wasn't it awful there
where I forgot? I knew I should, for I did at every rehearsal. Here,
Jean, what is there for me to do?"
"Nothing, Miss Star Actress, or should I say Mr. Star Actor; you have
entertained us so well all the evening that we'll let you continue
to do so until we've something to eat. Oh, dear, I haven't a bit of
alcohol; I knew I'd forget something. Who's got some to spare? Midge,
you're the nearest, please skip over to your room and get some."
When Marjorie returned with a huge bottle, Jean filled the lamp of
her chafing-dish, not noticing that she was spilling some drops of
the alcohol on the papers she had left on the table after undoing the
numerous packages. She put the ingredients into the dish and they
lighted the lamp. All went well for a moment or two and she kept
stirring the melted butter and cheese. Now that their work was done the
girls felt freer to talk and left Jean to herself. She went over to
her closet to take out a box of chocolates which she had hidden there
and then circulated them among the girls. When she returned to the
table she saw that some of the alcohol which she had dropped on the
platter was burning. Thinking it would do no harm she let it burn until
it blazed up and caught the papers near by that had been wet with the
drops of alcohol. In a moment they were all ablaze and the girls were
so frightened that they stood still without knowing what to do. Danger
threatened Merton and perhaps all Ashton, and something must be done at
once. Quick as a flash Jean pushed the burning papers onto the platter
and took hold of it firmly with both hands.
"Somebody open the south window, quick!" she cried. For a second no one
seemed to know just which was the south window or whether there was any
window in the room. Then Elizabeth ran to the window and opened it wide
and Jean in a flash was in front of it and threw the blazing platter
and its contents down into the snow below.
[Illustration: "SOMEBODY OPEN THE SOUTH WINDOW, QUICK!"--_Page 178_.]
As soon as the danger was over the girls realized what Jean had done.
"How could you do it, Jean? How did you think of it? Oh, look at your
hands and face; you've burned them!" they all cried.
"No; I haven't. Not badly; just one thumb and it doesn't hurt much. I
guess I've singed my eyebrows and a little of my front hair, but the
rabbit is spoiled. Isn't it a shame? But I'm not going to let that
perfectly good chafing-dish stay down in the snow and get buried up
and stay there all vacation. I'm going to put on my rubber boots and
a short skirt and sweater and go down and get it. I don't want any
of you to come with me. I know how to unbolt the door, and no one
will ever know anything about it if you'll keep it to yourselves.
Here, Elizabeth, pass the sandwiches and olives and other eats. I'm
determined, though, that you shall have a rabbit and I've got enough
stuff here to make another even if there's only enough for one cracker
apiece; that's better than nothing."
"But," protested Peggy, "you won't have time; it's almost quarter of
eleven now, and you know we must get back to our rooms at eleven
surely or we'll never get permission again."
"Well, girls," said Jean, "I shall make that rabbit to-night if I'm
expelled to-morrow. You must go, I suppose, at eleven, but we two can
stay up as long as we please in our own room if we're not disturbing
any one else. Constance and I will eat all we can to-night, and I'll
see that the rest of you get yours to-morrow. Cold rabbit is as good
as hot; some like it better, particularly if it's thick and leathery.
Aren't these rubber boots grand? I never thought when I bought them
last month that I should dedicate them hunting for lost chafing-dishes
and rabbits in snowdrifts. Well, here goes, switch the light over
to the south window and watch me discover the North Pole, or the
chafing-dish. Just wet this handkerchief first, will you, Nat, so I
can wind it round my throbbing thumb. How's that for alliteration,
freshies; wouldn't that please Miss Whiting?"
After winding the wet handkerchief around her thumb she put on some
heavy gloves and was ready to start. The corridors were dark, for all
the lights had been put out at half-past ten. She groped her way along
the banisters and managed somehow to reach the lower hallway. It seemed
as though every step had made the long stairs creak and protest against
what she was doing, and she was sure when she hit against a hall chair
that she would awaken Mrs. Thompson. She waited a few moments and
listened, but apparently Mrs. Thompson was sleeping peacefully, little
dreaming of what was happening just outside her sacred domain. She
finally located the great bolt and in a moment had the door open. She
moved over the door-mat to prevent the doors closing, for if the wind
should blow them together again she would not be able to open them
unless one of the girls came down and helped her.
Out on the steps her courage failed her for a moment, for the snow was
whirled in every direction by the terrific wind, but she stepped down
into it and instantly was up to her knees. She decided to give it up
and return to the girls, but she hated to be defeated in anything, so
attempted it again. She could hardly walk, but had to scuff along,
making her own path. It was a long way down the east side of the
dormitory and then round the corner to the south side. The light from
45 shone brightly and guided her to the spot where she expected to find
the chafing-dish. At last she reached it and saw the tray sticking up
in one place and not far from it the standard and a little farther the
two dishes and cover. She gathered them in her arms and started back,
after waving to the girls in the upper windows. After she had gone two
or three steps she realized that she hadn't found the alcohol lamp, and
as that was a very important item, she put the other parts down again
and began to hunt for the lost one. It was nowhere to be found and had
probably fallen out when she threw the burning mass from the window,
and being the smallest part and the lightest had undoubtedly gone the
greatest distance, and being the hottest as well, it probably sank down
deep in the snow. She was about to give up when her fingers groping
around on the surface found what she wanted so badly.
Now that she had it all she returned the same way she had come, but it
was easier now because she had only to retrace her footsteps. Still,
it was no easy task and took some little time. Just as she reached the
stone steps she heard the campus clock ring out eleven strokes. She
entered the door and closed it as cautiously as possible and put the
mat in its proper place. Then she groped her way up the three flights
of stairs and was soon in 45, breathless but triumphant. "Here it is,
girls, and some of the cheese is still in the dish; have some?"
"Jean, you're a hero," said Peggy, "but we mustn't stay another minute;
it's already struck eleven. Sorry to have missed the rabbit, but the
other things were delicious and your adventure such a novelty in the
way of entertainment. Don't do it again, for it's rather dangerous
unless one has your nerve. Good night. Tell us the rest of the story in
the morning."
"All right, but 'Mum's the word,' girls," said Jean, as she followed
them to the door. "At our first reunion after vacation I'll tell you
all about the hairbreadth escapes I had in the mad pursuit of the
rabbit. Isn't that a thrilling subject for my next English theme?
Quietly, now; don't make any noise; don't anybody stub her toe or trip
on the stairs."
"And now," said Jean, as she came back into the room, "I'm going to
finish that rabbit if I don't get a particle of sleep to-night. You can
retire gracefully, if you so desire, to Elizabeth's bed and I'll stick
to my post of duty till the rabbit dies."
"No," said Constance, "I'm not a bit sleepy; I'd rather watch you, but
first can't I put something on those burns?"
"No, thanks, Connie, they aren't half bad, and if I keep something wet
on my thumb it will be all right."
Into the chafing-dish went all of the remaining ingredients, few to
be sure, but enough to half fill the dish. There was no egg but Jean
decided to risk it without. She stirred and stirred, but it refused to
thicken, and as the college clock struck twelve she decided it never
would. "Well, we can put a little in these saucers and eat it with a
spoon and perhaps by morning what we leave in the dish will thicken
enough to spread on crackers. I mean that every girl shall have a
souvenir of the great and glorious occasion."
They put a little in the saucers and broke in some cracker. Constance
took a mouthful and exclaimed, "Oh, Jean, the mustard! How much did you
put in?"
"Why, just what the rule said, of course."
"It must be a funny rule, for it's so awfully hot you never can eat it."
"Well, I should say so," said Jean, after a taste. "Let's hope it will
cool off by morning. Anyway, I've done what I said I should; it's made
and we've eaten some. Now let's go to bed at once. I shall leave all
the dishes and cleaning up until morning. Fortunately I have two spare
hours before train time and my trunk is all packed. Isn't this room
a mess? Let's retire gracefully to our downy couches and forget what
we've left behind. Do you think my eyebrows, or rather what there is
left of them, look badly?"
"No one would ever know what had happened unless you told them. I think
you got out of it mighty easily. It's a wonder you weren't burned
badly, or the curtains didn't catch and start a fire. What a terrible
night to have been burned out. Ough! I don't like the idea at all. Are
you sure everything is all right out in the study?"
"Why, of course, you big silly. Now calm yourself and get into bed, and
we'll talk it over in the morning."
The first thing Jean did after the rising bell awoke her from a sound
sleep was to go out into the study and look into the chafing-dish. Yes,
the rabbit had hardened and looked anything but attractive. She took
two crackers and put the rabbit between them, making a somewhat bulky
sandwich in its proportions but nevertheless edible. With Constance's
assistance she made twelve of them and wrapped each one in some tissue
paper and tied them with narrow white ribbon. Slipping on her kimona
and bed shoes she put the packages into a small basket and hastened
out in the hall and stopped at the room of each of her guests of the
evening before. To each girl she presented a neat package and wishes
for a Merry Christmas.
Constance and she were a little late at the breakfast table but took
their places without a smile or look at any of the twelve girls who
were awaiting their arrival. Unless one had looked very carefully
one would not have perceived that Jean's right thumb was carefully
done up in a white bandage. Aside from this there was no indication
of the incidents of the previous evening. Breakfast talk centered on
the excellence of the French play the night before and the acting of
Peggy Allison. Just before breakfast was over Mary Boynton arose and
announced two important notices before the departure of the girls for
the Christmas holidays.
"The Merton House Entertainment Committee have planned a costume party
for January thirteenth, to be limited to the girls of the dormitory.
Every girl is expected to be in costume. For further particulars apply
to Helena Burrage, Florence Goodnow, and Mabel Addison.
"The proctors for the two weeks beginning January sixth, have been
appointed as follows: first floor, Lena Hutchinson; second floor,
Rebecca Chapin; third floor, Mary Andrews; fourth floor, Jean Cabot;
fifth floor, Sarah Dillon. They will meet for a few moments after
breakfast in the reading-room."
Then the girls filed out and hurried upstairs for last preparations.
The proctors consulted together a few moments and were given
instructions as to their duties and then were dismissed. Jean and
Constance decided to go to Chapel and clean up afterwards. It took till
nearly ten before the last dish was washed and wiped, and Constance had
to hurry for the train. "You must be sure to visit me after vacation,
but I'll promise you no such exciting times as you gave me. My best to
Tom. Thanks for your hospitality," she said as she boarded the train.
Jean watched until the train was out of sight and then went up to ten
o'clock recitation. At twelve she boarded a crowded train and left
Ashton and its problems behind her.