CAPS AND CAPERS
The eight girls were quickly gathered in Ruth's and Edith's room and
listening eagerly to the scheme afoot. It need not be added that it was
unanimously carried, and it was only necessary to choose a name for the
society.
"Let's all wear masks and caps and cut all sorts of capers. It will be
just no end of fun," cried Ethel Squire, a pretty, bright girl of fifteen
who was always ready for a frolic.
"Splendid!" cried Toinette, "and Ethel has given me a fine idea for a
name; let's call it the C. C. C."
"C. C. C.? What under the sun does that stand for?" asked Helen Burgess, a
quiet, serene little body, and a general favorite with the other girls.
"Guess," said Toinette.
"Cuffs and Collars Club," said May Foster; "mine cause me more trouble
than all the rest of my toilet, so they are never far from my thoughts."
"Cake and Cackle Club," said another.
"Cheese and Cider; a delicious combination when you've acquired a taste
for them!" said Marie Taylor.
"Clandestine Carnivori," was the last guess, which raised a shout.
"Good gracious! let me tell you quickly before you exhaust the
dictionary," laughed Toinette; "how will the Caps and Capers Club do?"
"Hurrah!" cried Ruth, "just the very thing. We'll all wear our bath-robes
and white caps and masks. I've loads of white crepe paper, which will be
the very thing to make them of, so let's sit down and make them right
away. Come on, girls, help clear up this mess, and then I'll find the
paper. I can give the finishing touches to the closets and bureau drawers
to-morrow."
All turned to with more ardor than skill, and in a very few moments the
conglomeration upon the floor had vanished. How it fared with Ruth and
Edith when it came time to dress has never been disclosed. However, the
room restored to outward order, twelve girls set to work to fashion caps
and masks, and, as the last one was completed, the dressing-bell rang and
all scattered to prepare for dinner.
The evening hours at Sunny Bank were very pleasant ones, for during the
winter, while days were short and nights were long, there was not much
opportunity for outdoor diversion. Immediately after dinner Miss Howard,
the literature teacher, would place her snug little rocking-chair before
the cheerful open fire in the big hall, and the girls would gather about
her; some on chairs, some on hassocks, and some curled upon the large fur
rug in front of the blazing logs, while she read aloud for an hour. A fine
library in Mont Cliff supplied books of every imaginable sort, and the
girls were allowed to take turns in selecting them; providing, of course,
their selections were wise ones. But with Miss Howard as guide they could
not go far astray, and many a delightful hour was passed before the fire.
Just at present the books chosen were those relating to English history,
and contained good, hard facts, but, when the girls grew a little tired of
such substantial diet, historical novels came handy for a relish. As
England was cutting a prominent figure in the world just then, the girls
were encouraged to keep in touch with the current events, and to talk
freely about them. The last book read, at least the one they were just
concluding, was one which brought into strong contrast the reigns of
England's two greatest queens, and the subject was discussed in a lively
manner.
The book was finished shortly before the hour ended, and, laying it upon
her lap, Miss Howard began to ask a few leading questions in order to get
the girls started. As always happens, there were some girls not wildly
enthusiastic over historical subjects, and such books did not hold their
attention as a modern novel filled with thrilling situations would have
done. But these were the very ones whom Miss Howard most wished to reach,
and, feeling sure that her chances of doing so through such methods were
far greater than could be hoped for if she pinned them right down to hard,
dry facts, she took infinite pains to make her readings as interesting as
much research and a careful selection of books could make them.
The conversation was in full swing, and Miss Howard, in high feather over
the very evident impression the book had made, was congratulating herself
upon her choice of that particular volume, when one girl asked:
"Miss Howard, what particular act of Elizabeth's reign do you think had
the greatest influence upon later reigns?"
"That is rather a difficult question to answer, Natala. It was such a
brilliant reign and so fraught with portentous results in the future that
it would be very difficult to say that this or that one act was greatest
of all; although, unquestionably, the translation of the Bible was one of
the greatest blessings to posterity. Who can tell me something of great
interest which happened then?"
"I can!" cried Pauline Holden.
"I'm more than delighted to hear it," answered Miss Howard, for Pauline
was at once her joy and her despair. Affectionate and good-natured to the
last degree, she was never disturbed by anything, but I put it very mildly
when I say that Pauline did not possess a brilliant mind.
"Yes," continued Pauline. "There are not many things in history that I
care two straws about, but I remembered that because the names made me
think of a rhyme my old nurse used to say when she put me to bed."
"Miss Howard's hopes received a slight shock, but she asked:
"Will you tell us what it is?"
"It was letting Matthew, Mark, Luke and John out," triumphantly.
"Letting whom out?" asked Miss Howard, wondering what upon earth was to
follow.
"Yes, don't you remember they let them out during Elizabeth's reign?"
"Let them out of _where_?"
"Why, out of the Tower, to be sure, and it made such a difference in a
history some man was writing just then, because they had had a lot to do
with it somehow--I don't remember just what it was. Maybe one of the other
girls can."
By this time all the other girls were nearly dying of suppressed laughter,
and when poor Pauline turned to them so seriously it proved the last
straw, and such a shout as greeted her fairly made the wall ring. It was
too much for Miss Howard, and, with one last look of despair, she gave way
and laughed till she cried.
When the laugh had subsided and they had recovered their breath, Miss
Howard endeavored to explain to the brilliant expounder of English history
that Queen Elizabeth had had more to do with keeping Matthew, Mark, Luke
and John out of the Bible than _in_ the Tower of London.