“But we must attend to our practice, Judith, this very afternoon I have
called for a full team. We are to meet the girls of Breslin, and no
personal worries must be allowed to interfere with the duties of our
team. You know, Judy dear, no one is more anxious than I to have dear
little Helen’s tangle straightened out, and I am going to it with all
the wild and wooley in my make-up,” Jane almost smiled, but there was a
qualified twist at her mouth corners, and such an effect had often been
called an ingrowing smile, id est: A smile fraught with fury.
“Oh, all right, Janey!” assented Judith. “I, like you, dear, am anxious
to vanquish both foes, to wit: Breslin and Marian, but I am not so keen
for practice. Janey, do you think I could work up a little water on the
knee, or housemaid’s ankle, or something like that, just for this
afternoon? I have the prospect of the loveliest hike—out to Blighty our
poney England, you know. I would love to go, but, of course, if I must
make baskets for the sophs——”
“You really must, Judith. I will take no excuse positively. Besides,
Judy dear, we are to have an audience this afternoon, and do you think
I will stand for our team being minus our tall, striking, beautiful
Junoesque——”
“Perfect thirty-six! Halt! All right, Jane. I shall be on hand.
Consider the bid accepted,” and Judith flounced out in mock pomp, her
limited skirt confines yanked out, in comic imitation of the sweeping
court costume.
Basketball fever had set in with epidemic proportions. Every minute in
the day available, or capable of being snatched, was occupied with the
little blue book guaranteed to give all the rules, all the official
information, all the strategic signals, and all the game of girls’
basketball, visionary and actual, the only omission noticeable being
ball and basket.
Last year’s uniforms of green were decided upon as an economic measure,
the war price of wools, and the actual scarcity of such materials
putting a ban on the commodities usually used in college athletic
costumes.
Jane had lined up her team, all pledged to run to the gym directly
three thirty was dismissed. Grazia St Clair was one of the most
promising forwards, and she had already proven her prowess. She could
duck and dodge and sprint and “shoot a basket” while her companions of
the team were extricating themselves from each others’ stockings.
Judith occupied the critical position of standing center, and all her
wisdom coupled with her indomitable push, earned the rather mystifying
title of Towser. It was “get ’em, Towser!” and “shake ’em, Towser!”
until Judith felt a peculiar interest in the very bones, inadvertently
left on her dinner plate.
It was to be expected that Marian Seaton would occupy a place on the
opposition team within Wellington. After many difficult meetings and
“pow-wows” it was finally “amicably” agreed that two teams be formed
from the juniors and sophs. The coach and managers were from the senior
lines as were the referee and umpire.
On the first or Team One, Jane and her followers were placed, while the
second, or Team Two, included Marian, Antonia Dexter, otherwise Tony,
Mildred Jennings, Martha Rutledge, Dolorez Vincez and Molly Igo, all
new girls with the exception of Marian. Just what ability this team
possessed was a matter of interesting speculation for Team One. All
worked hard and earnestly and every day was Field Day in the gym!
The epidemic spread alarmingly, until teams called respectively the
Subs, the Scrubs, the Grubs and even the Dubs, fell into line, as
naturally as birds following on the wing, and lonely indeed was the
Wellington, who boasted not of her place on some of the many teams and
teamsters. Helen took readily to the sport, and with Dickey Ripple and
Weasie Blair, she worked enthusiastically with the Scrubs until the
night of her interview with Jane, after that she lost heart. All
Wellington seemed engulfed with the wave of basketball and that the
circumspect faculty did not fall victims to the peril of the wily
sphere can scarcely be affirmed with confidence. Weasie Blair declared
she heard Mrs. Weatherbee arguing with Miss Rutledge on the difference
between a personal foul and a technical foul, and Gloria Gude insisted
her chemistry prof talked “dribbles” when she meant molecules.
On this particular afternoon Jane marshalled her forces, and not taking
no for an answer from Judith, who preferred a hike to practice, had
succeeded in getting a full team on the floor. As class president Jane
felt it her duty to keep up the morale of her constituents in all
sports. Massing for basketball might have been considered an obligation
of captain or other official, although Jane assumed it willingly, thus
leaving the upper class girls free for a more interesting part in the
sport.
As the teams lined up some new rules just issued, were explained by the
officials. They related principally to rulings and duties of scorers
and referees and were quickly disposed of. All of the girls declared
the old rules plenty good enough, and sufficiently complicated,
nevertheless, the official guide for collegiates was their standard,
and in spite of opposition the more complicated lines finally became
part of the day’s lesson. It was towards the end of the second half at
this practice game that poor Judith met her Waterloo in the way of a
turned ankle. It seemed like Fate of course, as Judith had joked about
the desirability of acquiring some small accident to relieve her of the
day’s obligations, nevertheless the ankle had a very poor sense of
humor, for it hurt, and Judith crumpled in a miserable little heap of
blue serge and groans.
“Don’t try to stand on it, Judy dear,” cautioned Jane with a show of
some anxiety in her voice.
“Stand on it!” wailed Judith. “I don’t believe I shall stand on that
foot while I live. It hurts badly enough to last all my mortal life.”
“A mere trick,” whispered Dorolez Vincez to Marian Seaton.
“Hush!” cautioned the wise Marian. “Better not—let them hear you say
that. They are all half cocked, ready to go off at any moment,” and the
two opposition leaders, arm in arm, left the crowd gathered around the
ill-fated Judith.
“All the same,” Dolorez insisted, “they will take that as an excuse to
put in a stronger sub. See if they don’t. Stearns will not be able to
play the Breslin game, and like as not our noble Jane (this with a
sneer) will see to it that some upper class girl with skill, instead of
giggles, takes the forward. I propose, Marian, that you be prepared to
fight for disqualification, if they try that little time trick.”
“Oh, I don’t believe they will, Dolorez.” Even Marian was surprised at
such suspicion. “You must have had a lot of experience? You are not
really a professional, are you?”
“Oh, no!” and the foreign girl laughed derisively. “I have played a
lot, but I am a junior here, am I not?”
“Yes, of course,” Marian assented. Nevertheless there was a note of
uncertainty in her voice.
“Of course we are going to beat them,” went on the South American girl.
“It is a good fight always, when we have two teams in one division. I
have a little trick up my angel sleeve that they never could guess.”
“But, Dolorez,” cautioned Marian, “our rules are very strict, and we
must conform to them. I want to beat the Jays of course, but we have to
do it openly. We will never succeed with any trick where Jane Allen is
concerned.”
“Oh, my! Since when has she won you over?”
“She has not won me over! In fact, I despise her more than ever, but I
know we have got to meet facts, and that is a fact beyond dispute. If
we want to hand the game to the Jays, all we have to do is to try on a
few tricks. It would start them off like a match to gasoline. We would
surely go up without smoke. No, Dolorez, I have been here for three
years, you know, and I must admit some of the peculiar qualifications
of our little red-head. They are to be counted on when a real fight is
in the air.”
“Oh, all right, captain,” and Dolorez smiled the queer smile that even
Marian did not relish. “Just as you say. But we must beat the Jays,”
and it seemed to Marian the black eyes flashed dangerously, and
betrayed more animus than might be safely dealt out in basketball.
Meanwhile Judith was being comforted and consoled with so many kinds of
sympathy that Jane insisted she be carried back to her room and allowed
to suffer in peace.
“I wanna die! I wanna die!” wailed the afflicted one. “I can’t go to
the dance, and I can’t kick any more——”
“Oh, yes, you can,” Dozia Dalton, who had carried her head, put in.
“You will kick, Judith, after the bugle blows!”
“And think of all the fudge you will get!” Grazia reminded her. Grazia
was supporting the “intact leg.”
“And you may have my Yale pillow, that is inspiring enough to give
thrills in the dullest hour,” offered Dicky Ripple.
“Oh, yes, I know, it is lovely of you all,” Judith managed to
articulate, “but you have got your old ankles to fall back on. But take
the advice of a friend—don’t fall.”