Amateur Conjuring
Ulyth went to her bedroom that evening in much agitation of mind. She
was torn by conflicting impulses. At one moment she longed to tax Rona
frankly with a breach of school rules, air the whole subject, and state
her most emphatic opinion upon it. If Rona alone had been concerned in
the matter she would have done so without hesitation, but the knowledge
of the number of girls who were involved made her pause.
"I might do more harm than good," she reflected. "After the way Tootie
has been inciting them to take sides against the seniors, they'd be up
in arms at the least hint. It will be worse if they know they're
discovered, and yet go on in an even more underhand fashion."
Ulyth's abstraction was so marked that her room-mate could not fail to
notice it.
"What's the matter with you to-night?" she asked. "I've never seen you
so glum before. Have you been getting into a row with Teddie?"
"I'm all right. One can't always be talking, I suppose," returned Ulyth
rather huffily. "Some people go on like a perpetual gramophone."
"Meaning Corona Margarita Mitchell, I suppose? As you like, O Queen!
I'll shut up if my babble offends the royal ears. There! Don't look so
tragic. I don't want to make myself a nuisance. But all the same it's
depressing to see you looking like a mixture of Hamlet and Ophelia and
Iphigenia and--and--Don Quixote. Was he tragic too? I forget."
"Hardly," said Ulyth, smiling in spite of herself.
"Well, I get mixed up among history and literature, can't always
remember which is real and which is make-up. It's a fact. I put down
Portia as history in my exercise yesterday, and said the story of the
Spanish Armada was told by Chaucer. Now you're laughing, and you look
more like Ulyth Stanton. Sit down on this bed. There! Open your mouth
and shut your eyes, and see what the king will send you!"
Rona was fumbling in her drawer as she spoke. She turned round, seized
her friend boisterously and forced her on to the bed, then, holding a
hand over her eyes, crammed a chocolate almond into her mouth.
"Rona! What are you doing?" protested Ulyth, shaking herself free.
"Where did you get this chocolate?"
Rona pulled a face expressive of mingled secrecy, delight, and triumph.
"Rats!" she chuckled enigmatically. "Little girls shouldn't ask
questions."
"But I want to know."
"That's not sporty! Take the goods the gods send you, and don't ask 'em
what tree they picked them from."
"But, Rona----"
"Are you two girls still out of bed and talking?" said an indignant
voice, as Miss Lodge opened the door and glared reproval. "Make haste. I
give you three minutes, and if you're not ready by then I shall report
you. Not another word! I'm astonished at you, Ulyth, for breaking the
silence rule."
"I didn't hear the half-past nine bell," replied Ulyth, abashed.
"Then it's your business to hear it. It's loud enough. Everybody else on
the landing is in bed."
Miss Lodge put out the light and walked away, with a final warning
against further conversation. Rona was asleep in a few minutes,
breathing calmly and peacefully as was her wont, but Ulyth lay awake for
a long time watching a shadow on the wall cast from the beech-tree
outside. Where had Rona got her chocolates? The answer was perfectly
plain. With the little brooch for evidence there could be no mistake.
"She's not so bad as the others, because I really don't think she quite
realizes even yet what school honour means. But Tootie and her scouts
know. There's no excuse for them. Well, only two days now, and Mrs.
Arnold will be here. What a tower of strength she is! I can tell her
everything. Friday will very soon come now, thank goodness!"
But those two days were to bring events of their own, events quite
unprecedented in the school, and unexpected by everybody. How they
affected Ulyth and Rona will be related farther on in our story; but
meantime, for a true understanding of their significance, we must pause
to consider a certain feature of the life at The Woodlands. When Miss
Teddington had joined partnership with Miss Bowes she had added many new
ideas to the plan of education which had formerly been pursued.
She was determined that the school should not be dubbed "old-fashioned",
and by all means in her power she kept it abreast of the times. So well
did she succeed that the girls were apt to complain that their second
Principal was a crank on education, and fond of trying every fresh
experiment she could get hold of. The various enterprises added an
atmosphere of novelty, however, and prevented the daily life from
degenerating into a dull routine. No one ever knew what scheme Miss
Teddington might suggest next; and even if each course was not pursued
for very long, it did its work at the time, and was a factor in the
general plan. All kinds and varieties of health exercises had had their
day at The Woodlands--poles, dumb-bells, clubs, had been in turn
discarded for deep breathing or for swimming motions. Slow minuets or
lively tarantellas were danced, according to the fashion of the moment,
and had the virtue of teaching stately dignity as well as poetry of
motion. It was rumoured sometimes that Miss Teddington, with her eye on
the past, contemplated a revival of backboards, stocks, and
chest-expanders; but those instruments of torture, fortunately, never
made their appearance, much to the relief of the intended victims, who
had viewed their advent with apprehension.
Naturally, dancing and indoor P.T. went on mostly in the winter months,
their place being taken by outdoor drill during the summer term. The
Camp-fire movement had appealed to Miss Teddington. She would herself
have liked to be "Guardian of the Fire" and general organizer of the
League, but her better judgment told her it was wiser to leave that
office to one who had not also to wield the authority of a teacher. She
supported the League in every way that came within her province. As
Camp-fire honours were given for nature study, astronomy, and geology,
she took care that all had a chance to qualify in those directions; and
lately, acting on a hint from Mrs. Arnold, she had made a special point
of manual training. Since Christmas the studio had assumed a new
importance in the school. It was a big glass-roofed room at the top of
the house, reached by a small stair from the west bedroom landing. A
carpenter's bench stood at one end of it, and wood-carving went on
fairly briskly. The girls might come in at any time during their
recreation hours, and the occupation was a great resource on wet days.
Bookbinding, stencilling, clay modelling, and fretwork were included
among the hobbies, and though there might not be definite lessons given,
there were handy primers of instruction on the book-shelf, and it was
interesting to try experiments.
"Do something on your own initiative. Take the book and puzzle it out,
even if you make a few mistakes," urged Miss Teddington. "Nothing but
practice can give you the right feel of your tools; you'll learn more
from a couple of failures than from a week's work with a teacher at your
elbow the whole time, saying 'Don't!'"
So the girls struggled on, making merry at each other's often rather
indifferent efforts, but gaining more skill as they learnt to handle the
materials with which they worked. If the mallet hit the chisel so
vigorously as to spoil a part of the pattern, its wielder was wiser next
time; and the experimenters in pyrography soon learned that a red-hot
needle used indiscreetly can dig holes in leather instead of ornamenting
it. Such "dufferisms", as the girls called them, became rarer, and many
quite creditable objects were turned out, and judged worthy of a
temporary place on the view-shelf.
Since Christmas a very special feature had been added to the handicraft
department. Miss Teddington had caused apparatus to be fixed for the
working of art jewellery. A furnace and a high bench with all necessary
equipment had been duly installed. This was a branch much too
technically difficult for the girls to attempt alone, so a skilled
teacher had been procured, who came weekly from Elwyn Bay to give
lessons. Those girls who took the course became intensely enthusiastic
over it. To make even a simple chain was interesting, but when they
advanced to setting polished pebbles or imitation stones as brooches or
pendants, the work waxed fascinating. Some of the students proved much
more adept than others, and turned out really pretty things.
There was not apparatus for many pupils to work, so the class had been
limited to seniors, among whom Doris Deane, Ruth White, and Stephanie
Radford had begun to distinguish themselves. Each had made a small
pendant, and while the craftsmanship might be amateurish, the general
effect was artistic. Miss Teddington was delighted, and wishing to air
her latest hobby, she decided to send the three pendants, together with
some other specimens of school handiwork, to a small Art exhibition
which was to be held shortly at Elwyn Bay. Miss Edwards, the teacher who
came weekly to give instruction, was on the exhibition committee, and
promised to devote a certain case to the articles, and place them in a
good light. Though small shows had been held at The Woodlands
occasionally in connection with the annual prize distribution, the
school had never before ventured to send a contribution to a public
exhibition, and those whose work was to be thus honoured became heroines
of the moment.
On the very evening after Ulyth's and Lizzie's excursion down the
garden, a number of girls repaired to the studio to view the objects
that Miss Teddington had chosen as worthy to represent the artistic side
of the school.
"I wish I were a senior," said Winnie Fowler plaintively. "I'd have
loved this sort of thing. To think of being able to make a little
darling, ducky brooch! It beats drawing hollow. I'd never want to touch
a pencil again."
"You've got to have some eye for drawing, though," said Doris, "or you'd
have your things all crooked. It's not as easy as eating chocolates, I
can tell you!"
"I dare say. But I'll try some day, when I am a senior."
"Are these the three that are to go to the exhibition?" asked Rona,
pushing her way to the front. "Which is which?"
"This is mine, that's Ruth's, and that's Stephanie's," explained Doris.
"Why isn't Ulyth's to go? It's just as nice as Stephanie's, I'm sure."
"Miss Teddington decided that."
"How idiotic of her! Why couldn't she send Ulyth's? I think hers is the
nicest, and it's just the same pattern as Stephie's--exactly."
"Do be quiet, Rona!" urged Ulyth, laying her hand on the arm of her too
partial friend. "My pendant has a defect in it. I bungled, and couldn't
get it right again afterwards."
"It doesn't show."
"Not to you, perhaps; but any judge of such things would notice in a
moment."
"Well, your work's as good as Stephanie's any day, and I hate for her
name to be put into the catalogue and not yours. Yes, I mean what I
say."
"Oh, Rona, do hush! I don't want my name in a catalogue. Here's Stephie
coming in. Don't let her hear you."
"I don't mind if she does. It won't do her any harm to hear somebody's
frank opinion."
"Rona, if you care one atom for me, stop!"
Rather grumbling, Rona allowed herself to be suppressed. She was always
ready to throw a shaft at Stephanie, though she knew Ulyth heartily
disliked the scenes which invariably followed. She took up Ulyth's
pendant, however, and, after ostentatiously admiring it, laid it for a
moment side by side with Stephanie's.
"There isn't a pin to choose between them," she murmured under her
breath, hoping Stephanie might overhear.
Ulyth was at the other side of the room, but Stephanie's quick ears
caught the whisper. She looked daggers at Rona, but she made no remark,
and Ulyth, returning, gently took her pendant away and placed it with
the other non-exhibits on the bench. It had been a wet afternoon. No
outdoor exercise had been possible that day, and the girls were tired of
all their usual indoor occupations.
"I wish somebody'd suggest something new to cheer us up," yawned Nellie
Barlow. "There's a quarter of an hour more 'rec.' It's too short to be
worth while getting out any apparatus, but it's long enough to be deadly
dull."
"Can't someone do some tricks?" asked Edie Maycock.
"All right, Toby; sit on your hind legs and beg for biscuits," laughed
Marjorie Earnshaw.
"I mean real tricks--conjuring and fortune telling; the amateur wizard,
you know."
"I don't know."
"Then you're stupid. Have you never seen amateur conjuring--coins that
vanish, and things that come out of hats?"
"Yes; but I couldn't do it, my good child. Being in the Sixth doesn't
make me a magician."
"We tried a little bit at home," pursued Edie. "We had a book that told
us how; only I never could manage it quickly. People always saw how I
did it."
"Rona's the girl for that," suggested Hattie Goodwin.
"Is she? Come here, Rona, I want you. Can you really and truly do
conjuring?"
"Oh, not properly!" laughed Rona. "But when I was on board ship there
was a gentleman who was very clever at it, and I and some boys I'd made
friends with were tremendously keen at learning. We got him to show us a
few easy tricks, and we were always trying them. I could manage it just
a little, but I'm out of practice now. You'd see in a second how it was
done, I'm afraid."
"Oh, do show us, just for fun!"
"What do you want to see?"
"Oh, anything!"
"The vanishing coin?"
"Yes, yes. Go ahead!"
"Then give me two pennies or shillings, either will do."
The audience who had clustered round looked at one another, each
expecting somebody else to produce a coin. Then everybody laughed.
"We haven't got so much as a copper amongst us! We're a set of absolute
paupers!" declared Doris. "Can't you do some other trick?"
"There is nothing else I could manage so well," said Rona
disconsolately. "This was the only one I really learnt."
"Can't it be done with anything but coins?"
"Something the same size and round, perhaps?"
"My pendant?" said Ulyth, fetching the trinket from the bench. "It's
just as big as a penny."
"Yes, I could try it with this and another like it. Give me
Stephanie's."
"No, no! You shan't try tricks with mine!" objected Stephanie
indignantly.
"I won't do it a scrap of harm."
"Oh, Stephie, don't be mean! She'll not hurt it. Here, Rona, take it!"
exclaimed several of the girls, anxious to witness the experiment.
Stephanie's protests and grumbles were overridden by the majority, and
Rona, in her new capacity of wizard, faced her audience.
"It'll be rather transparent, because you oughtn't really to know that
I've got two pendants," she explained apologetically. "Please forget,
and think it's only one. I must put some patter in, like Mr. Thompson
always used to do. Ladies and gentleman, you've no doubt heard that the
art of conjuring depends upon the quickness of the hand. That's as it
may be, but there is a great deal that can't be accounted for in that
way. Ladies and gentlemen, you see this coin--or rather pendant, as I
should say. I am going to make it fly from my left hand to my right.
One, two, three--pass! Here it is. Did you see it go? No. Well, I can
make it travel pretty quickly. Now we'll try another pretty little
experiment. You see my hand. It's empty, isn't it? Yet when I wave it
over this desk Miss Stephanie Radford's pendant will be returned to its
place. Hey, presto! Pass! There you are! Safe and sound and back again!"
Stephanie took up her treasure and examined it anxiously.
"This isn't mine!" she declared.
"Rubbish! It is."
"I tell, you it isn't! Don't I know my own work? This is Ulyth's. What
have you done with mine?"
"Vanished under the wizard's wand," mocked Rona.
"Give it me this instant!" cried Stephanie angrily, shaking Rona by the
arm.
Rona had been standing upon one leg, and the unexpected assault
completely upset her balance. She toppled, clutched at Doris, and fell,
bumping her head against the corner of the table. It was a hard blow,
and as she got up she staggered.
"I feel--all dizzy!" she gasped.
An officious junior, quite unnecessarily, ran for Miss Lodge, magnifying
the accident so much in her highly coloured account that the mistress
arrived on the scene prepared to find Rona stretched unconscious. Seeing
that the girl looked white and tearful, she ordered her promptly to bed.
"It may be nothing, but any rate you will be better lying down," she
decreed. "Go downstairs, girls, all of you. Nobody is to come into the
studio again to-night."
"Rona had my pendant in her hand all the time," grumbled Stephanie to
Beth as she obeyed the mistress's orders. "She dropped it as she fell.
I've put it back safely, though, and I don't mean to let anybody
interfere with it. I shall complain to Miss Bowes if it's touched
again."