BEFORE THE FRESHMAN-SOPHOMORE GAME
After dinner, Peggy Allison seized Jean by the arm and insisted that
they go up on the hill to see if the lists of basket-ball candidates
were posted. Jean knew in her heart that her name would not be among
them, for the one fast rule of Ashton was that no girl was considered
eligible for athletic contests unless her work was satisfactory in
every department. For a moment she wanted to refuse Peggy, but she felt
she must know about her disappointment sooner or later, and she might
as well tell her now. So they walked slowly over to the gym and Peggy
found Jean very quiet.
"What's the matter, Jean? What's troubling you?"
"Nothing, except I'm awfully disgusted with myself and you will be,
too, for you aren't going to find my name among the basket-ball
candidates. I didn't pass in my French, so of course I can't play. I
knew all along it was going to be a toss-up whether I'd get through or
not, but I hoped that lately I'd done well enough to make up for my
poor beginning. However, I've made up my mind to one thing, and that is
if I can't try for the basket-ball team I'll do something here before I
leave."
"That's the proper spirit, Jean. I'm awfully sorry about your French,
but every one admits that Mlle. Franchant is the hardest marker in
college and flunks more freshmen than all the other profs together. But
there's tennis left for you in the spring and the big tournament in
June. Why don't you try to take the championship away from Natalie?"
"Oh, I couldn't beat her, but I'll go into the tournament if my French
is all right. I'll study it morning, noon, and night and I'll pass
it, too, for I've made up my mind. I'm not going over to basket-ball
practice any more. Not that I'm grouchy because I can't play, but
I'm going to put that time into studying. I'll be the very greasiest
grind you ever saw, with a towel around my throbbing head as I burn
the midnight oil night after night and drive my little room-mate to
distraction. Speaking of Elizabeth, do you know, she's doing splendid
work in oratory. In class last week she astonished every one. She gave
that little poem 'Carcasson,' and when she had finished, Miss Moulton
said, 'Excellent, Miss Fairfax, I'm going to ask you to give that to us
again next week; it's something for us to anticipate.' And Elizabeth
told me afterward that when class was dismissed that day 'Moultie'
stopped her and congratulated her and told her she hoped she would
enter prize speaking. Elizabeth said that she shouldn't think of such
a thing, for in the first place she would never dare to get up in the
chapel before every one, and in the second place she hadn't the time to
put into it. But later on I'm going to try to persuade her to enter,
and I think she will."
"I hope she will, Jean. Look at those girls around the bulletin board.
We'll never get within a mile of it."
"Oh, yes, we will, Peg; wait a minute," and before they realized it
both girls were gazing at the long list of names. There were two
Merton House girls among them, Anne Cockran for the freshmen, and
Sallie Lawrence for the sophomores, and as Jean saw their names she hid
her own disappointment by saying gayly, "Oh, isn't it splendid that
there are two Merton girls? I hope they'll make the teams. Won't it be
exciting to have the two rivals in the house before the game?"
"Oh, Jean, you'll find excitement enough before the game and after it,
too, for from now on there'll be plenty of spirit between you freshies
and the sophs. Be on the watch, for you never can tell what the sophs
will do next. You must be particularly careful about your flags and
the class banquet, for those are the really great tests of strength
or weakness of the freshmen class. Who's your chairman of the flag
committee?"
"Florence Cummings, over in North, and I'm fortunate or unfortunate
enough, whichever you consider it, to be on the committee with four
others. We haven't met yet, but I think there's a meeting next week."
"Well, it's a mighty hard committee to serve on, and I don't envy you
one bit. I hope you'll come out all right and win and float your flags,
but make up your mind for some excitement." The two girls spent the
rest of the afternoon walking over to Lookout Hill and the conversation
changed from basket-ball and class rivalry to everything imaginable
which could interest two such wide-awake college girls.
Classes settled down again after the excitement of midyear's, and if
there were heartaches and bitter disappointments most of them were
covered up with good resolutions and hard work. The girls who had
failed and were obliged to return home were missed for a little and
then forgotten. The seniors were realizing that it was their last
half-year and were crowding as much as possible into it; the juniors
seemed to be devoting themselves to social activities; and the lower
classes were developing class spirit and two rival basket-ball teams.
It had been a custom from time immemorial at Ashton to have an annual
basket-ball game between the freshmen and sophomores to decide which
class might carry its flags for the rest of the year at all college
events. If the freshmen were defeated in the game they gave up their
flags to the sophomores, and if the sophomores were defeated they gave
their flags to the freshmen. For several days before the game, and
especially the one immediately preceding, each class strove to have one
of its flags in some conspicuous place where it could remain without
being hauled down by the rival class. It always took carefully laid
plans on the part of the freshmen, and great precaution in executing
them to outwit the wily sophs, and few freshmen classes could boast
among their victories the successful raising of their flag. Then after
the basket-ball game, as soon as possible, the freshman class held a
banquet, either to celebrate its victory or find consolation in its
defeat. If the sophomores could prevent the banquet from taking place,
all the more glory for them, and they watched and plotted and made life
miserable for the anxious freshmen.
Classes come and classes go, but customs live on forever, and 1914 and
1915 were no exceptions to the rule and had made great preparations
for the fray. Jean Cabot and the other members of the flag committee
held secret meetings for days and days at Edith McAllister's house.
When Edith came to Ashton, her mother, being the only other member of
her family, had come with her and hired a small house in the shadow
of the college where the two lived happily together. Mrs. McAllister
had a sewing machine and could help the girls with their sewing. They
had over a hundred and fifty small flags to make in order that every
girl in the class might have one to carry to the game, besides several
large ones to display in the gymnasium. The college color was blue, and
1915 had chosen white as its class color, so the numerals, 1915, were
to be of white and sewed on the blue background. The flags were made
of cheese-cloth and had to be cut out and hemmed and then the numerals
were to be stitched on. Only a few of the girls knew how to run a
sewing machine, so it took some time to get them done.
But at last they were finished and the next thing was to know
what to do with them, for if one of the sophs scented them out and
captured them they were lost forever and the freshmen disgraced.
Finally it was decided to lock them in a small trunk which belonged
to Mrs. McAllister, and the trunk was to be placed in the attic and
the door locked and the two keys put on a ribbon and worn round Mrs.
McAllister's neck night and day. The one flag which the freshmen
hoped to fly before the game was entrusted to the chairman, Florence
Cummings, who sewed it on to her petticoat the day she carried it to
her dormitory. All the other flags, however, were to remain in their
hiding-place until the day of the game.
Each dormitory had girls from both classes to act as spies and watch
all proceedings and report suspicious actions to a general committee.
Jean was chosen from the freshman class in Merton and found her hands
full. On the day before the game, very early in the morning, it was
whispered around the Hill that the sophomore flag was flying in the
middle of the "Pond," as the girls called the small open reservoir,
just back of the college buildings, which supplied a neighboring city
with water. It did not take long for the rumors to be verified, and in
a few moments nearly every girl in college had been to the "Pond" to
see the small blue and orange flag floating in the water. There was
much speculation as to how it could have been placed there, for the
water, which was some ten feet below the surface of the ground, was
held in by solid walls of masonry which seemed impossible to scale. But
there was the flag, holding its head as high as any of the sophs who
said nothing, but went about their recitations with a satisfied smile
upon their faces which seemed to say, "You see our flag; well, get it
if you can."
The freshmen said nothing, but one could see disappointment on every
face. The flag committee held an animated session at Mrs. McAllister's
and then started out to work. Not a sign of a freshman flag all day
long and apparently there was to be no attempt to remove the sophomore
one, for to the casual observer that seemed impossible. There was
not a boat nor a ladder, nor a rope anywhere in evidence around the
"Pond," and the grumbly old watchman sat in his little box of a house
at the northwest corner placidly smoking his pipe as though nothing
had happened, all the while refusing to offer any suggestions to the
numberless inquiries which poured in upon him. At nightfall the flag
was still where it had been all day and the lofty sophs felt the
victory was theirs, for the freshmen, to all appearances, had given
up the attempt to capture it. There was tense excitement in all the
dormitories during supper and the early hours of the evening, but it
seemed to subside a little as bedtime approached.
As Elizabeth and Jean turned out their lights and crept into bed,
Elizabeth said, "Isn't it a shame, Jean, to be defeated at the very
outset? It looks bad for the game in spite of all belief in signs. They
say the even-year classes never are lucky, you know. Aren't you tired
after such a strenuous day? I for one will be glad when the suspense is
all over and the game is won or lost. You'll be worn to a thread if
you do much more running around."
"Yes, I am tired, Beth; but it's worth while working for the class.
Luck does seem against us now, but don't give up yet; there's plenty of
time for things to happen. Good night," and Jean turned on her pillow
as though to sleep.
Shortly after twelve o'clock, if one had been looking she might have
seen girls hurrying from the different dormitories in the direction of
Mrs. McAllister's house. On the small porch stood Edith and her mother
ready to welcome the girls. "Come into the house and drink some hot
coffee before we start, for it's bitter cold in spite of the fact that
it's March. What time do you expect your man?"
The girls were so excited that they declared they did not want the
coffee, but preferred to wait on the porch for the arrival of the
automobile which was to bring Mr. Doherty, professional swimmer and
diver.
"He promised to be here at quarter-past twelve," said Florence
Cummings, "but I'm sure it's that now. What if he shouldn't come after
all, and spoil our plans? I wish I'd offered him more money, but he
seemed perfectly satisfied with my proposition. I think I'd almost be
tempted to jump in myself if he didn't come. I don't just like the idea
of an ice-cold bath, but I could do the swim all right. Are the ladder
and rope here? Joe said he would bring them down after ten."
"Yes," said Edith, "they're in the cellar with the lantern. Isn't it
fortunate that there isn't a moon? It's dark as a pocket, so no one can
see us. I can hear an automobile now. It must be the Hon. Mr. Doherty."
In a moment a small roadster drew up in front of the porch and a
stalwart youth alighted and approached the group. Florence Cummings
greeted him with, "Good evening, is this Mr. Doherty? It's so dark I
can hardly see you, but I'm Miss Cummings who interviewed you this
afternoon."
"Yes, Miss Cummings, it's me."
"I was beginning to fear you weren't coming. You see it's very
important work you have to do for us to-night and I think we'd better
begin at once. Everything is ready and we will do exactly as you
suggested this afternoon."
"Yes, mum. I'm sorry to be late, but my auto broke down just after I
was leavin' Boston and it took me some time to fix it, but I'm ready
now."
And then the little procession started, Mr. Doherty carrying one end
of the long ladder and two of the girls helping on the other end. The
other girls followed in the rear with Mrs. McAllister to chaperon them.
They took a long roundabout way to avoid crossing the campus, and all
waited a moment at the foot of the hill while Jean hastened up to the
"Pond" to see if by any chance some of the sophs were on guard. Not
a trace could she find of a girl, so she ran back to the others who
anxiously awaited her. Then they all, silently and cautiously, followed
her up to the spot agreed upon for the work.
They had chosen the end of the reservoir farthest away from the
college, and Mr. Doherty let down the long ladder until it reached the
water. The heavy ropes which were tied securely around the ends of the
ladder he trailed along the ground and tied firmly around the base of
a tree which stood near by. Then taking off his overcoat and suit of
clothes which covered his woolen bathing suit, he crept down the ladder
and silently dropped into the water and swam toward the center of the
reservoir. It took him some time to locate the little flag and loose it
from its anchor, but finally it was done and he swam back and climbed
the ladder and dropped the flag into Florence Cummings' lap. Then he
drew up the ladder, untied the ropes, wrapped his fur coat around him
and they hurried back to Mrs. McAllister's where the swimmer took a
hot bath and a rub-down and drank what seemed to the girls gallons of
coffee. Then he jumped into his automobile and was off to the city.
It took the girls several moments to realize that what they had been
working for so hard really had been accomplished and the coveted
sophomore flag was here in their possession.
"Now what shall we do with it?" said Florence Cummings.
"I think the best place for it is in the trunk with the others," said
Jean, and the rest agreed. Thereupon Mrs. McAllister removed the keys
from her neck and Edith and Florence took two candles and went up to
the attic and placed the flag with the others, after which they came
downstairs for the last consultation of the flag committee. Although
they had captured the sophomore flag they had not yet displayed their
own, and to be effective it must be in evidence on the following
morning and there remained but a few hours before sunrise. It was
finally decided to fly it from the top of one of the dormitories.
It would look like a tiny speck at such a height, but it would be
beyond the reach of the enemy if carefully guarded until noon, when
hostilities were to stop until the game itself. To make everything
fair, lots were to be drawn and the girl drawing the piece of paper
marked "3" was to have the honor of flying the flag from her dormitory.
Mrs. McAllister cut the pieces of paper and marked them and then held
them out to the girls. "Come, draw quickly, girls," and she approached
Jean, who stood nearest her. Without hesitation Jean drew the paper
nearest her and after one look waved the tiny white paper over her
head, crying, "The die is cast! That flag shall fly from Merton or
I'll die in the attempt. Come, fellow-conspirators, let us away that
I may begin this bloody business," and the girls started back to the
dormitories, Mrs. McAllister and Edith accompanying each one to the
doors of the dormitories, where accomplices from within awaited their
arrival.
Anne Cockran had been chosen to guard Merton and she fairly pulled Jean
into the reading-room to hear about the night's adventure. "No, not
to-night, Anne, we've too much to do; we got the flag all right but
now you've got to help me fly our flag from Merton. Don't ask me any
questions, just do as I say and I'll tell you the rest in the morning.
Get some sweaters and heavy coats and meet me at the roof-stairway as
soon as you can."
Each girl went silently to her room and collected as much heavy
clothing as she could find and met as agreed upon at the stairway on
the fifth floor which led to the flat roof above. "Now," said Jean, "I
mean to go up on the roof and nail this flag to this flag-stick and
tie it to the front projection of the roof where it can be seen by
every one on the Row. After I have fastened it securely I shall come
down to the stairs and lock the door with the key inside. I shall put
these pillows and sweaters and coats on the stairs and make myself as
comfortable as possible and stay there until twelve o'clock, so that
our flag may be safe. When I want a little air I can go up on the roof
or just keep the door open a bit. I've got plenty of crackers, so I
won't starve. It's lucky to-morrow is a holiday, for I won't be cutting
and no one can say I am breaking rules. It's only a few hours now till
breakfast, so I must get a little sleep and you, too, Anne, or you'll
be in no condition for the game. I'm all right; don't worry about me;
1915 will fly its flag, even if we are beaten at the game. We've broken
one tradition and perhaps we can the others," and Jean, shut the little
door, locked it and went up on the roof to execute her plans.
She had a little electric light which she flashed every now and
then to guide her over the flat pebbly roof until she found the
corner projection. She nailed the flag to the flag-stick and tied it
securely to the iron cornice. Her fingers seemed almost frozen when
she finished, but her heart beat wildly as she thought that for the
first time she was really doing something worth while for 1915. If she
couldn't play basket-ball she could do this much, which was a victory,
too, though in a smaller way. She got back to the stairway and settled
down on her improvised couch, but, try as she might, sleep would not
come. It seemed ages to her before the breakfast bell rang and then to
satisfy her nervous hunger she munched some hard, dry crackers. She
knew now that in a few moments the loss of the sophomore flag would be
discovered and the freshman flag flying from Merton would enrage every
Ashton sophomore and bring joy to the hearts of the freshmen.
Suddenly, it seemed to grow close on the stairs and Jean opened the
upper door and breathed in the cool morning air which refreshed her.
One look at the flag assured her that it was safe and still waved
proudly in the breeze. She gazed out over the college and admitted to
herself that she was beginning to love it all, and was so glad that she
was a part of it, even though only a very small, insignificant part.
With the fresh air and renewed courage she went back to the stairs and
waited. She heard the girls go up and down the corridors and she longed
to ask them about the flag, but remained perfectly quiet.
Presently she heard the sound of whispers and stealthy footsteps
outside the door and then some one tried the knob. They evidently
expected to find the door locked, for they shook and twisted the knob
and rattled the door as if they meant to do business. She heard one
girl say, "It's no use; the key's in the lock and we can do nothing
unless we break the lock. Now's our only chance while the freshies
are at mass meeting. Couldn't we get some tools somewhere? What do
burglars generally use, anyway, when they break open locks?"
"I don't know," some one answered, "but couldn't we get something sharp
and a screw-driver and then unfasten the screws and take off the lock
on this side and push the handle through, then perhaps we could push
the key out and pry open the lock. Let's go down into the basement and
see if we can beg, borrow, or steal some tools from Joe. We'll tell him
we want to fix our trunks. We must hurry, though, for those freshies
will be back here soon and on guard again," and they hurried down the
corridor.
Jean had listened to their plans with increasing fright. Suppose they
did break open the lock, what could she do then? They did not suspect
that she was there, and probably thought it would be smooth sailing
if they could but open the door. She went up on the roof to see if by
any chance she could find something to brace the door but all that
presented themselves to her eyes were two brooms which some careless
girl had left on the roof after sweeping her rugs, and an iron shovel
which had probably been used last to shovel a path through the snow
so that the maids could do their sweeping. Jean seized all three
implements of warfare and hurried back again to the stairs and braced
the shovel and then the brooms against the door. She knew the brooms
would not do much good but she had more faith in the shovel. If the
sophs were determined to get in at any costs, she would give them a
hard struggle.
Before long the sophomores returned and in addition to the tools,
she felt sure they had brought more girls to help out. There was a
scraping of a file and the turning of the screw-driver and Jean knew
they were working as hard and as fast as they could. She wondered how
near twelve o'clock it could be and if the mass meeting would ever be
over. If they would only hurry, for in a few moments it might be too
late! From the conversation outside the door the girls seemed confident
that they would succeed, and were glorying in their luck. Just then
Jean heard many footsteps on the stairs and a shout and as she listened
she heard a tremendous shout of, "Rah, Rah, Rah, Freshmen; Rah, Rah,
Rah, 1915; Rah, Rah, Rah, Jean Cabot; Rah, Rah, Rah, the flag," and she
recognized Elsie Gleason's voice saying, "Unlock the door, Jean; it's
twelve o'clock and we've won! We've come to thank you for what you've
done. Come out where we can see you." When Jean opened the door she
saw the hallway and the stairs filled with the freshmen, who sent up
cheer after cheer for what she had done, but there was not a trace of a
sophomore except the tools which they had dropped in their hasty flight.
All Jean could say was, "Thank you, girls. I've only done what all of
you would have done if you'd had the opportunity. I must go down now
and get ready for the game, and I'm hungry, too. Is lunch ready?"
Then the long procession turned and led Jean to her room, where it gave
one mighty last cheer and then dispersed, and Jean closed the door upon
them and sank down upon her couch and cried for real joy.