THE TUG-OF-WAR.
A few days after the events related in the last chapter Alice Denvers,
Bessie Challoner, Elma Lewis, and Gwin Harley met once more at Gwin's
pretty home, to discuss the rules of a little society which they were
drawing up among themselves. The nicest girls in their set were to be
invited to join; but the important subject of the rules was first to be
discussed. Gwin £ad drawn up a plan which she now submitted to her eager
companions.
"The most important thing of all is the name," she said. "I thought of
calling it 'The Early Rising, Devoted to Study Society.'"
"Oh, twice too long," said Bessie. "Who could be bothered saying all
these words? You know when we are in the rush of school-life we cannot
be bothered talking of the 'Early Rising, Devoted to Study;' it would
never, never do. We must express what we mean in a single word if
necessary."
"Then let us get one," said Gwin. "You have not the least idea what a
headache I had last night searching in the dictionary and cudgelling my
brains; but a sensible word which would express all our meaning I could
not get."
"Let us think what our meaning clearly is," said Elma.
"Don't you know that yet?" exclaimed Bessie. "The society is to be
formed as an incentive to make us work extra hard. You know," she added
"I always think the motives of school-life are quite wrong."
"Oh, do listen to the words of Miss Wisdom," said Elma, in a very
mocking tone.
Bessie's big gray eyes flashed for a moment with indignation; but she
soon recovered her usual calm.
"I think the motives of school are wrong," she repeated; "there are
prizes offered, and there is a lot of emulation--"
"And how could we live without emulation?" cried Alice. "Why, it is the
very breath of life."
"But the desire of each to excel the other is not surely why we are sent
to school," continued Bessie. "We are sent to school because our parents
want us to learn something. They don't want us specially to get prizes,
although they are glad when we do, because they suppose that we have
accomplished some of the objects of our school life; but their real wish
is that we should know English history, and history generally, that we
should be well acquainted with geography, that we should speak French
fluently, and understand German so as to be able to converse in that
tongue, and to read the literature."
"Oh, do listen to the bookworm," cried Elma.
"In short," continued Bessie; "that we should become accomplished
women--that is undoubtedly the real object of school."
"Well, we are not gainsaying it," said Gwin. "We all know, dear Bessie,
what you feel about learning; it is the breath of life to you."
"It is, I rejoice in it," said Bessie. "A good vigorous tussle with a
tough subject is the keenest pleasure which I can possibly have."
"But the rest of us are not made the same way," continued Gwin. "Now I
like my studies very much--that is, in moderation. When I am learning
and mastering French, and getting through my music creditably, and, in
short, going through the usual curriculum of work, I feel interested;
but I also have a delightful sense that if I work for so many hours I am
entitled to play for so many hours."
"Oh, bother the play," interrupted Bessie.
"You see, Bessie Challoner, that is the difference between us. I like
work just to form part of my life, but not the whole; you want work to
form the whole of your life."
"Yes; that I do," said Bessie.
"But now to return to the society," interrupted Elma. "We all know that
it won't be the slightest effort to Bessie to join; but she will be a
good incentive to the rest of us. She will always be at the top of the
tree, at the head of her class, and all that sort of thing. She won't
require to be told to get up early, because she always does."
"I tell you what," interrupted Bessie; "let us put things into our rules
which will be a tug-of-war for me too. For instance, now, I am untidy."
"Well, yes; just a little bit," said Gwin, her eyes dancing.
"It's more than a little bit," said Bessie. "Oh, Gwin, you don't know
what a nuisance it is to keep my room in order, and sometimes I forget
the things dear mother tells me, and I am impatient with poor little
Judy, who takes, I must say, a fiendish delight in putting my things in
hiding. Now, our rules might include tidiness of person and order
generally. It's no trouble to me to keep my books in order, nor my mind
in order; but I do hate washing my hands before every meal, and brushing
my hair and doing it up in a fashionable roll at the back of my head."
"Oh, my dear child," said Elma, "do you imagine for a moment that that
excrescence at the back of your head is fashionable? I never saw
anything more dowdy."
"Dowdy? Is it?" said Bessie. "I spent five minutes over it this morning,
and twisted it up three times in order to give it that horrid little
handle of a jug look which you all aspire to. Well, well, I don't
suppose we need add to our rules that the girls who belong to the
society are to be fashionable."
"It would be a really good idea if we did," said Elma. "I cannot see why
schoolgirls should be a lot of frumps. Our society is to effect a
certain object which can never be acquired unaided in a great school
like Middleton. We want to be as ladylike, as refined, as nice as if we
belonged to a very small and select school. We get the best teaching at
Middleton, but I don't suppose we get the best manners."
"Well, let us add all these things to the rules," said Gwin, "and let us
begin to put them down at once. First, as to the name. Until we can
think of a better we must call it the 'Mutual Improvement Society.'"
"A hateful word," said Bessie. "The M.I.S.!"
"Yes, it does sound priggish," said Elma.
"Well, I dare say some one will have genius enough to think of a more
flashy and brilliant name," said Gwin, "but for the present we will call
it the 'Mutual Improvement,' for that is exactly what it means. Now then
for the rules."
As Gwin spoke she drew in front of her a sheet of foolscap paper; and,
dipping her pen in ink, looked eagerly at her three young companions.
"Rule I.," she said.
"For goodness' sake," cried Bessie, "let Rule I. apply to study. Do let
down lightly with regard to tidiness and fashionable hair, and all that
sort of thing."
"Yes, we will begin about the most important matters first," said Gwin.
Here she began to write rapidly in pencil. "I must copy this out in my
best and most copperplate hand presently," she continued; "but while we
are correcting matters and getting down our rules somehow pencil will
do. Well, Rule I. Shall it be something like this, girls? 'The members
of this society are expected to aim for the top of the class in each
branch of their study at Middleton School. They are expected to gain at
least one prize at the midsummer examination.'"
"That sounds rather like emulation coming in," interrupted Bessie.
"It must come in, Bessie--it must," said Elma. "We must have something
to work for."
"I thought the love of the thing--" began poor Bessie.
"Oh, Bessie Challoner, do shut up. Yes, Gwin, that first rule goes very
well," said Elma. "We are to aim for the top of the class, and we are to
secure at least one prize each. Hurrah! for the Mutual Improvement
Society! Now, then let us get to Rule II."
"That applies to deportment," said Gwin. "'The members of the Mutual
Improvement Society are to aim at ladylike manners, they are to refrain
from slang in conversation, and they are to refuse to make friends with
girls who indulge too largely in that special form of vulgarity.' Poor
Kitty Malone!"
"But she does not talk slang," said Bessie. "She talks Ireland, and
Ireland and England are as far apart as the poles."
"Rule III.," continued Gwin, "relates to tidiness; and now, Bessie,
comes your tug of war. 'The members of the society must engage to keep
their home things in perfect order, as well as their school desks. They
must be neat in their persons, exquisitely clean with regard to hands
and teeth, and tidy with regard to hair.'"
"I don't think I'll join," said Bessie.
"Nonsense, Bessie; it was you who told us to put all this in. I, as a
matter of course, always do these things," said Gwin, looking very sweet
and the essence of young ladyhood as she spoke.
"Oh, yes, you dear old thing, you are perfect; but you don't live in the
sort of ramshackle house we do," said Bessie. "However, never mind. I am
quite agreeable to go in for the tug-of-war. And, now, is there anything
else?"
"Oh yes, there is," said Elma, "and I think it is a most important
thing. 'The members of the Society, as far as they possibly can, are to
adhere to fashionable dress, to hair done in a stylish manner, and in
short to that distinction of appearance which ought to characterize the
lady of the present day.'"
"Well done, Elma," said Gwin, "that is a capital rule."
"It is a hateful rule," said Bessie. "I really don't think I can join. I
don't know what fashionable clothes are. I never study the fashions. I
have not the slightest idea whether sleeves are worn stuck out to the
size of a balloon or skin-tight to the arm. All I ask for in a sleeve is
that it should be comfortable; all I ask for in a dress is that I should
not know I have it on. I like to be warm in winter and cool in summer.
More I do not ask for."
"Then the rule will do you a wonderful lot of good," said Gwin. "And now
is it decided? If so we will draw up the rules in proper form, and----"
"I tell you what," said Bessie. "I have thought of a name and a good one
too. Let us call the society the 'Tug-of-war Society.'"
"Well done," said Gwin; "that will be capital. And now is there to be a
subscription or is there not?"
"Oh, certainly," said Alice. "It would make it much more distinguished,
and prevent too many girls asking to join. We want to have the
Tug-of-War Society rather select, don't we?"
"I suppose so," said Gwin; "but I don't think that really depends upon
the amount of the subscription. What do you say to half a guinea,
girls?"
Alice looked thoughtful, and Elma's face turned rather pale; but she was
the first to say she thought Gwin's suggestion an admirable one.
"Then that is all right," said Gwin, "and I will set to work to write
out the rules as neatly as I can. After they are all set out in due
form, we can see if there are any improvements to be suggested."
Gwin set to work, bending low over her foolscap paper, and Alice offered
to help her. Elma and Bessie wandered out of the room, and soon their
conversation turned to the much-discussed subject of Kitty.
Bessie stood up warmly for the harum-scarum Irish girl, as Elma called
her.
"She has a lot of good in her," said Bessie warmly. "She would be a
splendid girl if she were tamed down a little. I really don't think we
want to take much of the fire out of her; but if she would only restrain
some of her wild speeches it would be all the better; for if she remains
as frank as she is at present to the end of the chapter she cannot help
making enemies."
"I want to ask you a question, Bessie," said Elma, dropping her voice to
a low tone; "is it true that Kitty Malone is rich?"
"Rich?" echoed Bessie. "I really cannot tell you."
"I thought you might happen to know, as you have made such chums with
her. She is your greatest friend now at Middle ton School, is she not?"
"Certainly not," replied Bessie. "What do you mean by asking me such a
strange question, Elma? Alice is far and away my greatest friend, and
after Alice I like Gwin best."
"Oh, everybody likes Gwin Harley," said Elma; "who could help it? She is
so beautiful to look at, and she has such a delightful, lovely home."
"I cannot see that her having a lovely, delightful home has anything to
do with our liking her," said honest Bessie.
"Not to you perhaps," answered Elma, and a queer look, half-wistful,
half-defiant, came into her eyes.
"I thought you would be sure to be able to tell me if Kitty were rich,"
she said again after a pause.
"I cannot. You must ask Alice--she lives with Alice. She has plenty of
pretty dresses, and all that sort of thing; but I don't know anything
about her having money."
"I will run into the house this minute and ask Alice," said Elma.
"Do, of course, if you are anxious; but I cannot imagine what difference
it makes to you."
"No, it doesn't, but I am just curious on the subject. I won't keep you
long."
Elma dashed into the house. She presently came back.
"I have found out all about it," she said.
"All about what?" asked Bessie.
"What I went into the house for. How forgetful you are, Bessie!"
"I was wondering if I might steal into the library," said Bessie. "I did
not get all the information I wanted about magnetic iron ore, but--Well,
what is it, Elma?"
"Kitty Malone is rich, very rich, and----"
"I can't see that it matters," said Bessie--"I mean to us."
"Oh, but it matters a good deal. You don't understand. I shall certainly
vote that we ask her to join the Tug-of-War Society."
"You will?" cried Bessie--a look of great pleasure came into her eyes.
"Then I am really glad, for to join such a society would do Kitty more
good than anything else in the world. Only the nicest girls will belong,
and she will get at once into the best set. She is as wild as she can
be, but she has got plenty of honor; and if she once gave her word that
she would do a certain thing no one would do it better."
"Let us have her by all means. Let us put it to the vote as soon as we
go back to the house," said Elma. "Come Bessie, no slinking away in the
direction of that fascinating library. They have nearly copied the
rules, and we are to read them over and make comments."
"I think it will be a delightful society," said Bessie. "I am sure it
will do me good."
"It is meant to do us all good," said Elma. "Tug-of-war! I should rather
think it will be! How I shall hate that terrible effort to get to the
head of my class; not that I am stupid or dislike my lessons."
"That would be the nice part as far as I am concerned," said Bessie;
"but oh! the fashionable sleeves and the stylish hair. Oh dear! I often
feel inclined to have my hair cut short."
"Well, Bessie, you would be a fool if you did," said Elma. "Your
splendid hair; why, it's nearly down to your knees."
"Yes, and that's the bother," said Bessie, "for mother insists on my
brushing it out every night for at least ten minutes, and all that time
is taken from my books. I tell you, Elma, I would gladly change with
you."
Elma's locks were very thin and straggly, and she could not help
coloring at this left-handed compliment; but at that moment Alice
appeared on the balcony to tell the other two girls that the rules were
ready, and that they might return to the house. They did so, and the
rules were then read carefully over (by Elma on this occasion),
criticized by Gwin, Alice, and Bessie, and finally carried as far as the
original members of the society were concerned. The next important thing
was to put to the vote who was to be asked to join and who was to be
excluded. Several girls were named, and among them Elma suddenly
introduced the name of Kitty Malone.
"Now what do you mean by that?" said Alice, her eyes flashing angrily.
"If Kitty joins the society, I, for one, will resign."
"But you cannot, dear," said Gwin in her placid voice. "Remember you are
one of the founders; you are bound to uphold the society now for at
least one term of its natural life. At the end of that time you are
permitted to resign, but certainly not before."
"Then, as I presume I have a vote with regard to the election of
members, I certainly do not wish for Kitty Malone," said Alice.
"I think the votes must go by the wishes of the majority," replied Gwin;
"does any one else want her?"
"I do." said Elma, holding up her hand.
"And I think it would be good for her," said Bessie.
"Dear me, Bessie, how spiteful of you to say that," cried Alice.
"But I do think it, Alice; I do truly."
"Why, Bessie?" asked Gwin.
"Well, you know there are the sort of things mentioned in our rules
which would just give Kitty the sort of restraint she wants," began
Bessie.
"Yes, I think I begin to understand you, Bessie. I too will vote that
she is asked to join," said Gwin.
Alice looked very sulky, but did not say anything further, and soon
afterward the girls broke up their conference.