THE BANQUET
The freshman banquet was always held as soon after the game as possible
in the hotel of some neighboring town, easy of access but out of the
reach of the sophs. It took a great deal of clever planning to escape
their vigilant watch, and many a time freshman classes never succeeded
in gathering at this festive occasion, but 1915 was a very energetic
class and determined at any cost to outwit their rivals. They agreed
among themselves that the banquet should be held the following Monday
evening at Langley Inn, Southtown, about twelve miles from Ashton, and
the girls were to assemble there before six o'clock. No two girls were
to be seen leaving the Hill at the same time, and they could take the
train, the electric cars or walk to near-by towns and leave from there.
Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton of the faculty were to chaperon them and
bring them back to college when the celebration was over.
A little after six o'clock on the evening agreed upon, Lois Underwood,
chairman of the banquet committee, walked through the reception-rooms
of the Langley Inn to assemble the girls into the dining-room. "Are we
all here, girls? I'll call the roll first and let every girl reply,
'Here,' as her name is called." It did not take long to discover
that Bess Johnson, basket-ball captain and star of the recent game,
Edith McCausland, class president, and Jean Cabot, heroine of the
flag-raising, were the only ones missing. "Who knows anything about
these girls?" asked Lois, anxiously. Instead of an individual answer,
there was a universal shout of "The sophs! They've captured them."
"Well," said Lois, "perhaps we had better wait a few moments before we
begin to eat, for they may only have been delayed. If any thing has
happened to them we shall be terribly disappointed, but as so many of
us are here we will carry out our original plans, and hope for the
best about the missing ones."
Just then one of the maids entered the reception-room. "Is Miss Lois
Underwood here? She is wanted at the telephone in the office."
"Oh, probably it's from one of the girls. I'll be right back in a
minute and tell you what has happened."
But when she returned, her face did not look as though she were pleased
with the message she had received. "It was Jean Cabot telephoning, but
all she said was, 'I sha'n't be at the banquet to-night.' Probably one
of those horrid sophs has her imprisoned, and made her telephone that
without any explanation, so it would be all the harder to bear."
"Are you sure it was Jean talking?" asked Elizabeth Fairfax. "Perhaps a
soph did it to deceive us."
"No; I recognized Jean's voice all right, in spite of the tone of
anger. I call it mighty hard luck, for Jean was to reply to the toast,
'How I Raised the 1915 Flag.' Of course it's an old story with most of
you now, but none of us will ever get tired of hearing Jean tell it in
that inimitable style of hers."
Again a maid summoned Lois to the telephone, and she returned again
with a downcast face. "It's Edith McCausland this time and all she said
was, 'Don't expect me at the banquet to-night,' and before I could ask
her the reason she had hung up the receiver."
"And are you sure it was Edith talking this time?" asked another
doubting freshman.
"Yes, quite sure, for no one could mistake her deep-toned voice.
Another of our speech-makers gone. Well, all I've got to say is that
some of the rest of you will have to speak impromptu, for we must have
toasts even if the sophs have stolen our famous after-dinner speakers."
As the maid appeared smiling a third time at the door Lois said, "You
needn't tell me I'm wanted at the telephone again, for I know it's Bess
Johnson this time to give me the same old message. I'm not going to
answer, for it's only giving more satisfaction to the sophs, and they
can keep ringing all night if they want to, but I'll not answer them.
Tell them Miss Underwood is too busy to answer the telephone. Come,
girls, let us go into the dining-room. Take any seat you wish; we won't
try to find our place cards, for we haven't any. Let's sing our class
song as we march in. Nell Butler, will you please go to the piano and
play for us?"
Obliging Nell, who always was called upon to furnish music at all the
freshman doings, hurried to the piano and struck the opening chords
of the class song, and then the girls broke into song and marched
double-file into the long dining-room. There were two large tables and
one smaller one intended for the speakers and guests of honor. Lois
showed Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton to their seats and then called out,
"Anne Cockran, Phil Woodworth, Mary Williamson, Stell Leavitt, Clara
Hawkins, Vera Montgomery, Gertrude Hollis, this way, please," and when
they sat down there were still the three empty seats which were to have
been occupied by the missing girls. "We want these seats filled, too,"
said Lois. "Betty Horton, you come over here, for you'll have to sing
for us; and, Florence Cummings, here's a seat for you; prepare to
tell us how you made the glorious 1915 flags we've lost forever; and,
Eleanor Whitcomb, join the other celebrities; because of your sophomore
room-mate you can talk on, 'What I Know about the Sophomores, after
Rooming with One for Seven Months.' There, that looks better to have
the table full. Ladies, be seated," and at the signal every girl sat
down and seizing her knife rapped three times on the table with it,
as they sang out, "Rah, rah, rah; rah, rah, rah; rah, rah, rah, the
freshmen."
Then they began to eat, and quantities of good things rapidly
disappeared. One would almost have wondered how they could eat so
much, for it sounded as though each girl was keeping up a continual
conversation with her neighbor, and every one admits it is somewhat
difficult to eat and talk at the same time, but a college girl can do
almost everything and perhaps did not find this difficult. Anyway, they
continued to eat until about eight o'clock and then Lois called on Miss
Hooper to respond to the toast, "The Freshman as Seen by the Faculty."
Miss Hooper, in spite of her predilection for mathematics, had a keen
sense of humor and kept the girls in gales of laughter as she summoned
up the funny mistakes of freshmen she had known, without making her
remarks at all personal. The girls clapped and clapped when she
finished, and many a one was glad to see this side of their mathematics
instructor which was entirely lacking in class-room.
"Now," said Lois, "we'll hear from Anne Cockran on 'How I Enjoy Being
an Invalid.'"
Anne couldn't stand up, and so leaned against her chair and very
briefly but brightly gave her views of the game after she had been
obliged to sit on the benches and watch the others. One girl after
another was called upon and all sounded the praises of 1915 and told
what it had to be thankful for, even if the game had been lost. They
sang between the speeches, and with so much cheering and singing many
began to get hoarse. Just after Eleanor Whitcomb had sent the girls
into gales of laughter over her humorous description of the sophs as
judged by her room-mate, the door from the hallway opened to admit
the proprietor, who ushered in Mlle. Franchant and the three missing
freshmen. Instantly every girl arose and cheered and cheered in spite
of tired throats. Room was made at the center table and the four late
arrivals were given the places of honor.
"Everything's eaten," said Lois Underwood, "except what you see on the
tables, but help yourselves freely to that. Only don't eat too long,
for we're crazy to hear what happened to you and how you succeeded in
finally getting here. Elizabeth Johnson, you're next on the programme;
please give us an account of yourself."
Bess arose and slipped off her long black cloak, revealing a somewhat
soiled and torn shirt-waist. "You see, girls, I'm not dressed just
exactly right for a banquet, but take me as you find me and you'll
understand everything when I've finished.
"We're here at last, although we never expected to be and it's been
rather difficult getting here. Some way or other the sophs found out
that we were to have the banquet to-night and they suspected we three
girls would speak. They evidently decided it was too late to break up
the banquet entirely, but the next best thing seemed to be to kidnap
us and keep us locked up until it was too late to think of leaving the
Hill. I left Wellington about three o'clock and walked down back of the
dormitory, intending to take the electrics over at Canton Corners for
Boston and then take the train at the South Station.
"Before I had gone very far Elsie Atherton overtook me and asked me
where I was going. Not daring to say 'in town,' I told her I was going
for a little walk, for I hoped she would leave me at the Corners, and
then I could walk farther down the street to take the car. But she
replied that she was out walking, too, and suggested that I go down to
her aunt's on Oliver Street for a few moments, as she had an errand
to do there. I knew I had several hours ahead of me and that it would
be less suspicious if I went with her than if I refused and boarded a
car. I consented, and we soon reached her aunt's house. A maid let us
in and said that Mrs. Wolcott was upstairs and wished us to go to her
room. I followed Elsie up the stairs and we entered what I supposed
was Mrs. Wolcott's room. Instead of meeting Mrs. Wolcott, a masked
figure approached me and before I could realize what was happening I
was seized by several other masked figures and blindfolded. Then I was
commanded to sit down and my hands and feet were bound securely to the
chair. Some one whispered in my ear, 'Now get to Langley Inn if you
can,' and they left the room and locked the door behind them.
"How long I sat there I do not know, but I twisted and turned and tried
every way to free myself, but it was no use. In course of time the door
was unlocked and some one else was brought in and bound to a chair as
I had been, and I heard again the whisper, 'Now get to Langley Inn in
time for your banquet if you can.' And then the door was locked. It
did not take me long to discover that my companion in misery was Jean
Cabot, and we were comparing our experiences and trying to plan our
escape when the door opened again and a third victim was brought in,
securely fastened as we had been, and given the same suggestion that
had been given to us.
"For the third time the door was closed and locked and we were left
to darkness and ourselves. It took only a moment to discover that the
new arrival was Edith McCausland, but before she could tell us of her
experiences we heard the key in the lock and we waited for the fourth
victim. The electric light was turned on and we heard one of the girls,
who we afterward decided was Sallie Lawrence, take down the telephone
receiver and call up 'The Langley Inn.' When the line was connected we
were each forced to say that we would not be at the banquet. No one
answered my call, so I concluded Lois had begun to suspect foul play
and would have nothing more to do with it. After the telephoning was
over we were warned not to try to escape, for it would be impossible,
and if we were quiet and submissive we would be released before ten
o'clock. We said nothing and were soon left to ourselves again.
"We decided to make every effort to free ourselves, and after much
straining and striving, Edith McCausland got one hand free. She had her
old clothes on and in her shirt-waist pocket was a penknife which she
had used that afternoon in the lab. With this she finally managed to
cut the ropes from her other hand and then from her feet and she was
free. Although it was pitch dark she succeeded in freeing Jean and me,
and we breathed freely again and felt that half the battle was won. We
did not dare to turn on the lights for fear the girls would see us,
for we suspected they might be somewhere within sight of the room or
perhaps in the very house itself. We groped around until we found the
windows and as quietly as possible opened them. Jean discovered that
the window she had opened was not far above the ground, and better
still, had a stout trellis which reached to the very sill. She decided
to try to crawl down it, for even if it would not hold her weight the
distance to fall would not be very great and she was willing to risk
it. Once out of the house the way would be clear.
"Very slowly and cautiously she stepped down upon the trellis, which
proved perfectly capable of holding her weight, and in a moment she was
on the ground. We followed suit, and in my haste to be out I forgot to
close the window and I'm wondering now if the cold air from the window
has chilled the whole house. Anyway, I didn't go back to close it. We
crept back of the house without saying a word and walked fully five
minutes before we stopped to get our bearings and hold a consultation.
Edith knew where we were and told us that a short cut would take us
up back of Faculty Row. If we could only get one of the faculty to
chaperon us we could telephone for an automobile and get out to the
banquet before it was too late. We knew Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton
were out here, so we determined to ask Mlle. Franchant to go with us,
knowing her fondness for the freshmen. We stumbled through backyards
and over fences and finally reached Mlle. Franchant's house. We told
her our story and persuaded her to chaperon us out here. We telephoned
for an automobile and here we are at last, a little the worse for wear,
perhaps, but loyal members of 1915," and she sat down amid vigorous
clapping and shouts of "Bravo!"
Lois then called upon Edith McCausland to tell the story of her capture.
"My story is very similar to Elizabeth's," she said, "except the first
part. I had an afternoon lecture and when I came out of College Hall
and was on my way to West, Helen Humphrey overtook me and asked me if I
would like a short automobile ride. You know she rooms next to me and
we've always been very good friends. Her aunt had offered her machine
to her that afternoon and it would be at West in about fifteen minutes.
I pleaded an engagement, but she urged so hard I thought I might go for
an hour or so and then take a late train in town. After we had ridden
until it was almost dark, Helen suggested that we stop for a moment at
her aunt's house. I was on pins and needles, for I knew I must hurry
or I'd never make the train. Still, it seemed the only polite thing to
stop a moment and thank her aunt for the ride.
"When we rang the bell we were admitted by a maid, who sent us
upstairs. The rest of the story you know, for Bess has told you. It's
been the most exciting experience I've ever had, but now that we're
here and have fooled those horrid sophs, I don't mind the rest. But
there's one consolation, girls, we'll be sophs ourselves next year and
we ought to take all this in the right spirit, as no real harm has been
done by our enemies," and Edith sat down as though she were very, very
tired. The girls were impartial in their applause and gave Edith her
full share and then Jean was called upon for her story.
"I had planned," she began, "to leave Merton very early after dinner
and spend the afternoon in town with my cousin at the hospital where
she is training. After I had dressed and was just about to start,
Gertrude Vinton came in to talk a little while, and when she discovered
where I was going she decided to go in town with me, for, strange to
relate, she has a friend training at the Massachusetts General, too,
who knows Cousin Nan very well. She suggested that we visit the girls
and then have lunch up town and go back to Ashton together. I tried
to think of various excuses, but couldn't persuade her to change her
mind. So there was nothing to do but for us to go in town together, and
I made up my mind that I could lose her after we reached the hospital.
"But she stuck to me closer than a brother and insisted that we see
both girls at the same time if possible. When we arrived at the
hospital we found her friend was on duty, so we both had one hour with
Nan. We would have stayed longer, but Nan was obliged to report at
four o'clock for ward work. Just as we were discussing where to go for
lunch, Gertrude began to feel sick and declared she should faint if
she couldn't lie down immediately. Nan took us into one of the little
waiting-rooms and brought water and restoratives to revive her, and
although she did not faint she declared she was in great pain and must
get back to college as quickly as possible. She said she was subject to
terrible attacks of indigestion, so she wanted to be in her own room
in East rather than in a hospital in town. Nothing would do but I must
go out to college with her. On the train she said almost nothing, but
curled up in the seat as though she were suffering intensely. I pitied
her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, although inwardly
I was raging because I was not on my way to our banquet.
"When we reached the station, Gertrude said she felt better and thought
she could walk to East if we went slowly, and I helped her. Strange to
relate, we met no one on the Row or in the dormitory. Gertrude rooms
alone on the first floor, and so we were soon in her room. She lay down
on her couch a few moments and then asked me if I would go down to the
other end of the corridor and ask Ethel Fullman to come in and help
her. Of course Ethel Fullman is a soph, but not a particle of suspicion
entered my innocent little head and I walked into her room as big as
life to tell her how sick Gertrude was and how much she wanted her to
go up to her room to help her. As I entered her room I found myself
in the midst of five sophs and before I could tell my story they had
seized me and blindfolded me and covered my mouth so I could make no
outcry. I tried my best to break away, but they were too many for me,
and I soon gave it up as useless. Some one put a long cloak over me
and I was led for what seemed miles and miles. Finally we stopped, and
were admitted to the house which the other girls have described to you.
There's no need of my saying more, except that I think Mlle. Franchant
was a jewel to come out here with us, and I move that we all rise and
show her how much we appreciate what she has done."
Every girl jumped to her feet and the walls echoed and reëchoed with
the cheers for the popular French instructor. After the speeches of the
three heroines of the evening other speeches seemed out of the question
and Lois suggested that the rest of the time be devoted to dancing and
singing. At ten o'clock they left the hotel and took the train for
Boston, and, after crossing the city they boarded the last train for
Ashton.
It was a very quiet lot of freshmen that crossed the campus and entered
the various dormitories, for they were very tired, but they felt a
certain exaltation. Although they had been defeated in the basket-ball
game, they felt that they had shown their superiority over the sophs
in the other two events. When Jean and Elizabeth finally reached their
room, Elizabeth said, "You must be dead tired, Jean, with all you've
been through. I can hardly move, myself, and I've done nothing all
these exciting days but just look on. What a heroine you are, Jean.
You're getting to be one of the most popular girls in 1915."
"Not at all, Elizabeth, and if I were, perhaps it's not the only
kind of popularity I want. 'Some men are born great, others achieve
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.' You know the
quotation; well, perhaps it's true in my case."
"Which one, Jean?"
"Oh, there ought not to be a question in your mind. Good night. Please
don't waken me in the morning. I'm going to take one of my seven
remaining cuts," and she went to sleep with her head full of banquets
and kidnapings and flag-raisings and basket-ball games.