GETTING ON
The three freshmen friends from Briarwood learned a good deal more that
evening than the Year Book would ever have taught them. The girls began
to crowd into the Hoskin Hall dining-room right after dinner. The
seniors and the juniors disappeared, but there were a large number of
sophomores present, besides the president of that class who addressed
the freshmen.
The latter learned that in athletics especially the rivalry between the
two lower and the two upper classes was intense. It was hardly possible,
of course, for any of the freshmen, and for few of the sophomores to
gain positions on any of the first college teams in basket ball, rowing,
tennis, archery, or other important activities of a physical nature.
All athletic sports, which included, as well as those named above,
running and jumping and other track work, were under the direct
supervision of the college athletic association. All the girls could
belong to that. Indeed, they were expected to, and the fees were small.
But for a freshman to show sufficient athletic training to make any of
the first teams, would almost seem impossible. They could get on the
scrubs and possess their souls with patience, hoping to win places on
the first teams perhaps in their sophomore year.
However, there had once been a girl in a freshman class at Ardmore who
succeeded in throwing the hammer a record-making distance; and once a
freshman had been bow oar in the first eight. These were targets to aim
for, Miss Dunstan, the sophomore president, told the new girls.
She was, of course, a member of the athletic committee, and having told
the new girls all about the sports she proceeded to advise them about
organizing their class and electing officers. This should be done by the
end of the first fortnight. Meanwhile, the freshman should get together,
become acquainted, and electioneer for the election of officers.
Class politics at Ardmore meant something. There were already groups and
cliques forming among the freshmen. It was an honor to hold office in
the class, and those who were ambitious, or who wished to control the
policy of the class, were already at work.
Ruth and her friends were so ambitious in quite another direction--in
two, in fact--that they rather overlooked these class activities. The
following day actually opened the work of the semester, and as they
already had their books the trio settled immediately to their lessons.
They were taking the classical course, a four-years' course. During this
first year their studies would be English, a language (their choice of
French or German) besides the never-to-be-escaped Latin; mathematics,
including geometry, trigonometry and higher algebra. They had not yet
decided whether to take botany or chemistry as the additional study.
"We want to keep together as much as possible, in classes as well as
out," Helen said. "Let's take the same specials, too."
"I vote for botany," Ruth suggested. "That will take us into the woods
and fields more."
"You mean, it will give us an excuse for going into the woods and
fields," Jennie said. "I'm with you. And if I have to walk much to cut
down weight, it will help."
"My goodness!" exclaimed Helen. "Heavy really _has_ come to college to
get rid of her superabundance of fat."
"Surest thing you know," agreed the fleshy girl.
The freshmen learned that they would have from fifteen to eighteen
recitation periods weekly, of forty-five minutes each. The recitation
periods occurred between nine and twelve in the forenoon and one and
three-thirty in the afternoon.
It took several days to get all these things arranged rightly; the three
friends managed to get together in all classes. The classes numbered
from twenty to forty students and the girls began to get acquainted with
the teachers very quickly. Trust youth for judging middle-age almost
immediately.
"I like Dr. McCurdy," Helen said, speaking of their English instructor,
who was a man. "He knows what he's about and goes right at it. No
fooling with him. None of this, 'Now young ladies, I hope you are
pleasantly situated and that we are going to be good friends.' Pah!"
Ruth laughed. "The dear old things!" she said gaily. "They mean
well--even that Miss Mara, whom you are imitating. And she _does_ have a
beautiful French accent, if she _is_ Irish."
They liked Dr. Frances Milroth. Her talk in chapel was an inspiration,
and that first morning some of the girls came out into the sunshine with
wet eyelashes. They began to realize that they were here at college for
something besides either play or ordinary study. They were at Ardmore to
learn to get a grip on life.
Instrumental and vocal music could be taken at any time which did not
interfere with the regular recitations, and of course Ruth took the
latter as a special, while Helen did not neglect her violin.
"I guess I'll take up the study of the oboe," grumbled Jennie Stone. "I
don't seem to know just what to do with myself while you girls are
making sweet sounds."
"Why don't you roll, Heavy?" demanded Helen.
"Roll _what_? Roll a hoop?" asked the fleshy girl.
"No. Roll a barrel, I should say would be nearer to it," Helen
responded, eyeing Jennie's plump waistline reflectively. "Get down and
roll. Move back the furniture, give yourself plenty of room, and _roll_.
They say that will reduce one's curves."
"Wow! And what would the girl say downstairs under me?" asked Jennie
Stone. "I'd begin by being the most unpopular girl in this freshman
class."
These first few days were busy ones; but the girls of the freshman class
were fast learning just where they stood. Then happened something that
awoke most of the class to the fact that they needed to get together,
that they must, after all, take up cudgels for themselves.
"Just like a flock of silly sheep, running together when they see a
dog," Helen at first said.
"I guess there is a good reason in nature for sheep to do that," Ruth
said, on reflection. "Sheep fear wolves more than any other animal, and
a dog is a wolf, after all, only domesticated."
"Huh!" grunted Jennie. "Then we are sheep and the seniors are wolves,
are they? I could eat up most of these seniors I've seen, myself. I will
be a savage sheep--woof! woof!"
The matter that had made the disturbance, however, was not to be
ignored.