A School Gymkhana
Thanks to the vigorous efforts of the Committee and of the various
organizers of the entertainment programme, everything was in good
training by the first of June, and anniversary day seemed likely to
prove a huge success. It was decided that the gymkhana should begin at
three o'clock, and be held in the large cricket field, admission being
either by ticket or gate money. There was a little discussion about
the arrangements in that respect, some members considering the
printing of the tickets an unnecessary expense, and others their sale
beforehand an essential feature.
"It's far better to sell them in advance," urged Bessie Manners,
"because people will often buy them, even if they're not certain of
going. If it were a showery afternoon many might stay away--then if
they hadn't taken tickets it would be so much loss to the funds."
"We'll accept money at the gate, though?" queried Olga Hunter.
"Yes, we must have a gatekeeper, and provide her with shilling and
sixpenny checks. I think children ought to be half-price. So many of
us have little brothers and sisters who would like to come, and a
shilling seems too much to pay for a child."
"Right you are! Who'll be gatekeeper?"
"Oh, some sturdy Fifth Form girl. I propose Gwen Gascoyne."
"Yes, Gwen would do splendidly. She deserves some post of honour for
evolving the scheme. Besides, she's got a head on her shoulders. She'd
keep the gate like Horatio kept the bridge."
"One could trust Gwen, I know. Now Rachel Hunter or Edith Arnold would
make mistakes in the change, and lose their presence of mind, and
perhaps let half a dozen people push in free while they were reckoning
up the sixpences."
"Gwen it shall be, then. I'll ask her to-day if she'll undertake it."
Gwen was only too proud to be invited to assume such a responsible
position. She felt much flattered that it should have been offered to
her instead of to Elspeth Frazer, Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, or other
of the older members of the Form.
"I'm the youngest of all, and yet I'm to be trusted the most!" she
said to herself with a sigh of gratification. "Gwen Gascoyne, I
congratulate you! You're coming on!"
There was great excitement at Skelwick Parsonage on the day of the
fête. Beatrice had made several boxes of sweets to be sold on the
ground, and Winnie picked the very choicest flowers in the garden for
the same object. Mr. Gascoyne, Beatrice, and Martin were to come to
the gymkhana, and had promised to clap their loudest at Giles' and
Basil's performances in the sports. Those two heroes kept examining
the muscular development of their young arms like a pair of practised
Roman gladiators, and ate quite a double allowance of breakfast on the
strength of the trials that were in store for them. They were so eager
to start for school, that for once Beatrice had no need to urge them
to hurry, and they departed in excellent spirits, vaulting, for
practice, over the orchard hurdles instead of going out through the
front gate.
Morning school was held as usual at Rodenhurst, but ceased at twelve,
so as to give time for preliminary arrangements to be completed. The
classrooms were to be used as dressing-rooms for some of the
performers, and the gymnasium was turned into a repository for the
parcels of sweets, cakes, and flowers which kept arriving from the
generous friends who had promised such gifts. To unpack these and
apportion them to different tea tables or vendors' baskets was a task
which needed all the energies of the members of the Committee, who
were kept so busy at the work that they had scarcely more than ten
minutes to spare for dinner. As a rule, unpunctuality at this meal was
visited with direst penalties, but to-day Miss Roscoe only smiled as
the prefects rushed in very late, hastily bolted their meat course,
and fled minus the pudding. Their zeal and virtuous example had the
desired effect. Everybody upon whom any responsibility devolved made
an extra effort, so that by half-past two everything was in perfect
order and readiness.
"Thank our lucky, lucky stars it's a decent day!" said Gwen, gazing up
at a sky which, if not blue all over, held only clouds of an
apparently harmless character. "I don't believe it intends to rain at
all, and I expect everybody will come, and the audience be 'large and
appreciative', as the newspapers say. If I don't clear a good sum of
gate money, I shall be amazed."
"Are you ready, Gwen, to act Horatio?" said Bessie Manners, bustling
up in a hurry. "You understand the business, don't you? Those with
tickets you of course let in free. Everybody else must pay a shilling,
or children under ten sixpence. Here are two rolls of checks, sixpenny
and shilling ones. You must hand checks to all comers for the amount
they have paid you, and they will present the checks at the entrance
to the big field. You will stand at the gate that leads from the
garden to the smaller field."
"I understand all right!" laughed Gwen. "I've brought a satchel to
hold the money, and I'll undertake not a soul gets in without paying.
It will have to be 'over my body' if they do!"
"Moira will be at the second gate, and she won't allow anyone through
without handing her a ticket or a check, so I think we shan't lose
anything there," replied Bessie, turning away satisfied.
Gwen took up her station at once, for visitors were already beginning
to arrive at the school, and she was soon fully occupied in receiving
coins and tearing off checks. She rather enjoyed being at the receipt
of custom, and was particularly gratified at the amount that went into
her satchel. The fine afternoon had tempted people to come to the
gymkhana, old Rodenhurst girls and their friends had turned up, as
well as parents and relations of present pupils, so the gathering was
quite considerable. The many pretty summer dresses and bright parasols
gave a most festive appearance to the ground, even before the
performers arrived on the scenes. Various girls, furnished with
tasteful baskets, had been chosen to sell sweets and floral
buttonholes, and soon began to find customers for their wares, while
the lemonade and ice-cream stalls were already doing a roaring trade.
Lesbia had been selected as a flower vendor, and looked absolutely
charming in a white China-silk dress and Tuscan hat trimmed with
daisies, which, by her usual good luck, she had received from Aunt
Violet only the week before. Pretty Lesbia, with her pink cheeks and
her lovely flaxen hair, really made quite a picture as she carried
round her basket, and many people bought flowers from her, just
because they could not resist the entreaty in her blue eyes, and the
soft little voice that pleaded the cause of the Rodenhurst Cot.
"She's just twice as good at selling as I should have been," thought
Gwen, watching her sister rather wistfully. "There's a fascination
about Lesbia which I don't possess in the very least. She must be
making a little fortune with those posies. Well, never mind. I'm
keeping the gate. That's more important still. To business. Here's
someone else coming. Hello! Why, Dick! This is awfully good of you!"
It was Dick Chambers who presented himself and paid his shilling. "I
hardly knew whether I dared come," he grinned, "after the row I got
you into that afternoon when you fished out of the window for sweets.
Will any of the teachers seize upon me and turn me out as a pernicious
character? I shall demand the return of my money if they do!"
"They're too busy," laughed Gwen, "and besides, I don't think anyone
would recognize you. Miss Trent didn't see you, you know; she only
caught me leaning out of the window."
"Then you think I may venture without fear of consequences? I feel
rather like Romeo going into the Capulet mansion. Can you give me a
watchword to use if I get into difficulties?"
"The Rodenhurst Cot and Coin of the Realm are our two watchwords this
afternoon. Stick to those and you can't go wrong, even if you beard
Miss Roscoe herself. She is over there if you'd like to shake hands
with her."
"No, thanks! I've no wish to risk such an ordeal. In fact I'll give
her as wide a berth as possible. Should you be allowed to negotiate an
ice if I brought you one?"
"Not while I'm on duty. Look here: 'You are requested not to speak to
the Woman at the wheel'. Here's a fresh batch of people arriving."
"Mayn't I tear off the checks?"
"Certainly not. Go along and buy some of Lesbia's flowers, if she has
any left by now. If you don't scoot quick, I'll report you for
impeding me in the performance of my work. Then they'd turn you out,
with a vengeance."
"I'll be good," chuckled Dick, as he moved on to find Lesbia, and
invest in her wares.
The cycle parade was about to begin, and those who meant to take part
in it were wheeling their machines through a private door which led from
the stable yard into the field. Not only had the competitors decorated
their bicycles, but they themselves had donned fancy costumes, many of
which were of quite an elaborate description. There was a Dutch maiden
with white sleeves, velvet bodice, starched cap and wooden sabots, a
sweet little Miss Jap-Jap-Jappy in gay kimono, a flower tucked into her
dark hair, an Indian squaw with bead-embroidered garments and fringed
leggings, several pierrettes, a Red Riding Hood, a Goody Two Shoes, and
other characters of nursery fame or fairy-tale lore. But the best of
all, so everyone agreed, was Rachel Hunter, who came arrayed as a cat.
Her costume, cut on the pattern of a child's sleeping suit, was most
cleverly contrived out of brown plushette, painted in bold bars to
represent the stripes of a tabby. She wore a cat's mask on her head, and
made such an excellent representation of a gigantic specimen of the
feline race that the effect was quite appalling. The younger children
squealed when she appeared on the field, especially as, to keep up her
character, she made an occasional claw at one of them as she passed, or
gave vent to a tremendous "Miau!" or "Fuff!" She had decorated her
bicycle with chocolate mice, and halted now and then to eat one with
great apparent gusto, hugely to the delight of the juvenile portion of
the audience, who clapped her again and again. But the real triumph of
her costume was her tail, a splendid appendage fully a yard in length.
By a most ingenious contrivance of a strong wire spring, worked with a
piece of elastic, she was able to curl and uncurl it, or to lash it to
and fro in the most diverting fashion. Altogether Puss was a huge
attraction, she acted her part capitally, and when on reaching the
judge's stand she purred loudly, and pretended to wash her face with her
tawny paw, the general cheering easily secured for her the first prize.
The second prize was won by a classmate of Basil's from the Boys'
Preparatory Department, who came attired as a golliwog, with blackened
face, fuzzy hair, and a selection of Dutch jointed dolls slung from
his bicycle. His laurels were closely contested by a dainty Miss
Butterfly and a picturesque Cavalier, but on the whole the funny
costumes seemed to find greater favour with the majority.
Everybody voted the cycle parade an entire success, and the audience
looked quite regretful as the long line of troubadours, Dolly Vardens,
brigands, fairies snow queens, Italian peasants, Kate Greenaway
rustics, and other interesting characters took their departure through
the gate. But there were further items on the programme, and all eyes
turned eagerly to the band of quaintly dressed little maidens who now
ran out joyously hand in hand to perform the ancient ceremony of
plaiting the Maypole. The children had been well drilled, and had
practised assiduously, so each took her ribbon with confidence, and
started off at the sound of the music, to tread the intricate steps
required for the due twisting and combination of the colours. The
affair went without a hitch, the maypole was plaited and unplaited,
and the effect was so pretty that the audience encored the
performance. Feeling that they had covered themselves with glory, the
May-maidens retired to make room for the morris dancers, who were
waiting anxiously to have their turn. The oldfashioned costumes, with
their decorations of flowers, ribbons, and bells looked well with the
green field for a setting, and when the band struck up, and the
dancers began their lively yet graceful motions, everyone felt
transported back to mediaeval days, when the world was young and
joyous, and our country merited its title of "Merrie England". The
Second Form girls, to whom had been assigned this portion of the
programme, contrived admirably to convey the original spirit of the
dance; their steps seemed so fresh and spontaneous and gay, their
actions so prompt and appropriate, and all went in such excellent time
to the music that the approving spectators accorded them an encore,
much to their satisfaction, for they were anxious not to be beaten by
their rivals the maypole plaiters.
After the dancing was finished there was an interval for refreshments
before the sports began. Tea and coffee were served on tables which
had been carried out from the school, the ices were much in demand,
and lemonade and ginger beer bottles maintained a brisk series of
pops. Gwen, whose duties had kept her by the entrance gate, had only
been able to view the festivities from a distance, and she could not
yet desert her post as late comers were still arriving.
"I've brought you a cup of tea, Gwen, if you can manage to drink it,
and a slice of cake. It's rather hard you have to act sentry all the
afternoon," said Iris Watson.
"I don't mind. It's prime fun taking the tolls. I feel like an ancient
turnpike man. Thanks immensely for the tea! I'm more thirsty than
hungry, but I shan't despise the cake. Isn't it a piece of the one
your mother sent?"
"Sweets, sixpence a box! Peppermint creams! Chocolate caramels! Almond
toffee! All home made! The best value for the money in all Stedburgh!
Perfectly delicious! Buy a box and taste them!" called a well-known
voice, and Lesbia marched up, smiling at her own eloquence.
"Why, you young Cheap Jack, I thought you were selling flowers!"
exclaimed Gwen.
"So I was, but I completely cleared out my stock, and Miss Trent set
me up in the confectionery line instead. I'm doing equally well, or
even better. By the by, can you give me change for a two-shilling
piece? Miss Douglas has just bought sixpenny-worth, and she has
nothing but a florin. I've this moment handed my money to Miss Trent
to take care of. I've no pocket in this dress, and I gave my bag to
Miss Barton with the proceeds of the flowers in it. Here's the
florin--I want a shilling and two sixpences for it, or else four
sixpences."
"Right-o!" said Gwen, opening her satchel. "Oh, bother! Here are some
more people arriving! You'll have to wait!"
"Do give it me, quick! Miss Douglas is in a hurry," pleaded Lesbia.
"Then take it out of my satchel yourself. Be sure you put in the
florin."
Lesbia hastily complied and ran off, for Miss Douglas was beckoning
to her impatiently, and teachers may not lightly be kept waiting.
"Have you managed to get change? That's right--give me three
sixpences," said Miss Douglas, hurriedly putting the money in her
purse. "I have to rush indoors now and help to dress the 'Elizabethan'
girls for the final madrigal. The whole affair's going very well. We
may all congratulate ourselves on what we're making."
"Hurrah for the Cot!" sang Lesbia, tripping away with a step that was
meant to be in imitation of the morris dancers.
The athletic sports, open to all comers, were naturally a great
feature of the afternoon. The prizes had been given by various friends
who had responded so generously to the appeal made to them that the
Committee had been able to place a large number of competitions upon
the programme. The proceedings led off with a boys' flat race, in
which Giles and Basil took part with great credit, though neither was
fortunate enough to outstrip the winner, a fleet-footed little brother
of Charlotte Perry. The obstacle races were voted immense fun, the
humorous feature being the performance of such feminine tasks as
needle threading or button stitching by the boys, and rapid bean
sorting by the girls. Giles and Basil were successful in a
three-legged race, and Martin, to his huge delight, won the sack race
for visitors under seven. He bore away his prize--an indiarubber
ball--with great pride to show to Beatrice. Long jumping and high
jumping proved equally popular both with boys and girls, some of the
records being excellent. Linda Browne a younger sister of Hilda
Browne, particularly distinguished herself in this respect, and won
laurels for the Lower Third. Vaulting over hurdles of varying heights
made a graceful competition, and one in which Elspeth Frazer came off
a victor. She was an athletic girl, and possessed a wonderful power of
spring that caused her to clear the bars like a bird.
"Our Form hasn't done badly," said Iris Watson, running to Gwen to
tell her of Elspeth's triumph. "Must you stick at this gate all the
time? Can't you leave it and compete for the dart-throwing contest?
It's always ripping. Surely nobody else will come now?"
"Don't suppose they will, and I'd love to try the darts. But what am I
to do with this satchel? It contains solid wealth."
"I'd give it to Miss Roscoe if I were you and ask her to take charge
of it. Can you lock it?"
"Yes, I have the key in my pocket. I'll put the unused checks inside
with the cash. There! That's safely locked up. The bag is quite heavy!
The gate has made a splendid contribution towards the cot I feel so
jubilant I want to 'cock-a-doodle'!"
Miss Roscoe readily took charge of the precious satchel, leaving Gwen
free to enter for any of the remainder of the sports in which she
might care to try her skill. The dart-throwing contest was just about
to take place, so she promptly joined the ranks of the competitors.
Each in turn had to throw six darts at a target, the one obtaining the
highest score securing the prize. It was a task that needed a true eye
and a firm hand, and proved far more difficult than most of the girls
anticipated. Some of them failed altogether to hit the target, and
others only achieved a chance dart in the outside rings. One or two of
the Sixth Form did fairly well, but did not secure a bull's-eye.
"They've fixed the distance too far. It's impossible to shy properly
when one's such a long way off," declared Charlotte Perry, retiring
disconsolately after a series of bad shots. "It's your turn now, Gwen.
I wish you better luck than I've had."
Gwen took her six darts and advanced to the white circle which was
marked on the grass as the throwing place. It was a game which she had
played frequently at the Parsonage, where she had often matched her
skill against that of her father and Beatrice. She had a strong arm
and a very true aim, two great essentials for success, and though the
number of paces was certainly greater than that to which she was
accustomed at home the increased distance did not seem an insuperable
difficulty.
"I must throw a little higher and harder, that's all," she said to
herself. "Fortunately there's no wind blowing to speak of."
Gwen's first shot went wide, but her second lodged in the outer ring
of the target. Profiting by the experience she regulated her aim, and
sent her third dart into the second ring. Her fourth and fifth were
nearer the centre still and the spectators began to cheer. Only one
dart remained; it was the best feathered of the six, and she had
purposely kept it until the last. She poised it carefully, calculated
for the slight breeze, then with a neat turn of her wrist hurled it as
swiftly as possible at the target. It whistled rapidly through the
air and lodged full in the bull's-eye. A storm of clapping greeted her
achievement. She was the last on the list of competitors, so she had
gained a full and complete victory over her rivals in the contest. She
beamed with satisfaction as she went up to receive her prize--a pretty
little silver brooch.
She had no further good fortune, though she tried her luck in the
potato race and the ball-catching competition, which concluded the
sports. It was now after five o'clock, and a procession of girls in
Elizabethan costume came on to the field to sing the final madrigal
which was to wind up the fête. As the last strains died away and the
band began "God Save the King", everybody joined in the National
Anthem and gave three hearty cheers for the Rodenhurst Cot.
"It has been a splendid afternoon," said Miss Roscoe, as the crowd
began to disperse and the sweet vendors and flower sellers came to
hand over their gains. "I'm sure we shall have realized quite a large
sum. It's too late to count our proceeds this afternoon. You must all
go home now, but if you have each labelled your own bag I will lock
them up in my safe until to-morrow. I think we may congratulate
ourselves on the success of our anniversary. It has more than answered
our expectations."
Gwen went home in high glee. She had enjoyed her part of the
celebrations thoroughly, and the consciousness that she had originated
the cot scheme gave an added degree of pleasure to the general sense
of prosperous termination of the affair. As she walked with Lesbia
round the orchard that evening she indulged in a little
self-congratulation.
"It is nice to have engineered all this!" she admitted. "Miss Roscoe's
pleased about it, I'm sure. She was so gracious to me when I took her
my satchel. She actually called me 'dear'!--a thing she's never done
in her life before. It's been a ripping day. School will seem quite
flat again after it. I wish there were another fête to look forward
to!"
"There's the tennis tournament," suggested Lesbia.
"Yes; but I shan't have much chance for that with my wretched old
racket!" sighed Gwen.
"Suppose I'd a new one, and could lend it to you?" said Lesbia
quickly. "A lovely half-guinea one!"
"You don't possess half a guinea to buy one, my child!"
"But I do! I've got the money, and I'm going to get the racket I shall
go to Graham's to-morrow for it."
"I thought your savings box was empty again? How in the name of wonder
did you come by ten and sixpence?"
"Never you mind--I've got it, and that's the main point," replied
Lesbia, turning very pink.
"But how?"
"I shan't tell you! Leave me alone, Gwen! You've no right to pry into
my affairs. I never bother about yours. Let go my arm!" and Lesbia,
blushing even more furiously, wrenched herself free and fled towards
the house.
Lesbia seldom had secrets, so her conduct was the more astonishing.
Gwen gazed after her in great surprise, half inclined to follow her
and press the point; but remembering that her Latin for the next day
was still unprepared, she fetched her books instead, and buried the
remembrance of her sister's strange behaviour in Virgil and a
dictionary.