The Symposium
By the aid of diligent practicing in private, and several rehearsals at
Garnet's house, the girls at last got their duet to run smoothly. Garnet
was frankly pleased.
"The two instruments go so nicely together! A mandoline's ever so much
better played with a guitar accompaniment than with the piano. I say,
suppose we were to get an encore!"
"I don't suppose anything of the sort."
"Don't be too modest. It's as well to be prepared."
"I'm not going to practice anything more, so I warn you."
"Well, take something you know, from your own book. This song. I could
play the air very softly on the mandoline, and we'd both sing it. That
won't give you any extra trouble."
"It isn't the trouble so much as the state of my fingers. They're
getting sore. If I let a blister come, I shan't be able to play at all."
"Then for goodness' sake don't play any more to-day, and soak your
fingers in alum when you get home."
The general meeting on Tuesday was a very important event, for it marked
the opening of the winter session of games and guilds. During the first
week or ten days of the autumn term the girls had enough to do in
settling into the work of their new forms, but now October was come
everybody began to think about hockey, and to consider the advisability
of beginning rehearsals for various Christmas performances.
"I always hate the end of September," proclaimed Grace Olliver. "It's so
fine, and the geraniums are still so fresh in the park, that you're
deceived into thinking it's still summer, yet when you try to play
tennis, you find the courts horrible, and you cut up the grass in half
an hour. I'm glad when the leaves all come off, and you know it's
autumn, and you look up your hockey jersey, and think what sport you had
last winter over 'The Dramatic.' I'm fond enough of cricket, but I'd
really rather have winter than summer. On the whole, there's more going
on."
"I'm glad Margaret Howell's head of the school," replied Evelyn
Richards. "She's A1 at all the guilds, though I don't think she's much
chance of being elected Games Captain."
"All the better. It's quite enough for Margaret to act head. She's good
enough at that, I admit. Makes an ideal president. But a girl who's
literary isn't generally sporty as well. It stands to reason she can't
do both properly."
"Meg doesn't want to be Games Captain; it's not in her line,"
volunteered Beatrice, Margaret's younger sister. "She told me to tell
you all to vote for Kirsty Paterson."
"Kirsty's topping!"
"What's this Symposium we're to have after the meeting?" asked Grace.
"Why, I don't exactly know," laughed Evelyn. "I looked 'symposium' up in
the dictionary, and it said: 'literally a drinking together; a merry
feast; a convivial party.' I don't know what we're going to drink,
unless we bring lemon kali and pass it round, like they used to do the
loving cup in the Middle Ages!"
"I suppose it'll be just a kind of concert. But how about the
collection? What are we supposed to give?"
"Anything you like, from a penny upwards," replied Beatrice. "Meg
calculated that two hundred and six pennies would be seventeen and
twopence, and some girls will probably give more, so she thinks we're
sure of a sovereign, and that ought to buy a decent trophy, something to
begin upon, at any rate. One must make a start."
"Right you are! A penny won't break the banks of even the First Form
babes, and millionaires can give their half-crowns, if they're so
disposed!"
Punctually at 3 p.m. on the following Tuesday, the whole school
assembled in the gymnasium. No mistress was present, for on occasions
such as this Miss Bishop believed in self-government. She could trust
her head girl and prefects, and had armed them with full authority.
Winona anticipated the meeting with excitement and curiosity. It was
altogether outside her experience. She had never in her life attended
such a function. Garnet, whose elder sisters had been at large schools,
had sketched an outline of what was likely to take place, but even
Garnet's information was second-hand. Though she had now been exactly a
fortnight at Seaton, Winona still felt more or less of a new-comer. She
had hardly spoken to any one outside her own form, and knew the names of
comparatively few of her two hundred and five schoolfellows. Without
Garnet she would have been quite at a loss how to steer her course in
this great ocean of school life; she thankfully accepted her friend as
pilot, and for the present was content to follow her lead. The two girls
presented themselves in the gymnasium in good time, and took their seats
among the other members of V.a. The front bench was occupied by
a row of ten-year-olds who had come up this term from the Preparatory,
and who sat squeezing each others' arms, highly impressed with the
importance of their remove. Behind them Form II., a giggling crew rather
more _au fait_ with the ways of the school, effervesced occasionally
into excited squeals, and were instantly suppressed by a prefect. The
Third and Fourth, which comprised the bulk of the girls from twelve to
fifteen, occupied the middle of the hall, a lively, self-confident and
rather obstreperous set, all at that awkward age which is anxious to
claim privileges, but not particularly ready to submit to the authorized
code. Every one of them was talking at the extreme pitch of her voice,
and the noise was considerable. Patricia Marshall and Clarice Nixon
looked at each other and frowned ominously, but as the hands of the big
clock pointed almost to three, they judged it better not to interfere,
and the din continued.
At the stroke of the hour, Margaret Howell strode on to the platform.
She was a tall, fine-looking girl of seventeen, with bright hazel eyes,
regular features, and a thick brown plait that fell below her waist. Her
ready powers of speech, clear ringing voice, brisk decisive tone, and a
certain personal magnetism showed her to be that _rara avis_, a born
leader. It was fortunate indeed for the school that its headship this
year should have fallen to Margaret. The need for a firm but judicious
hand on the reins was great. During the two previous years of the
school's existence the self-government had been in a state of evolution.
For the first year, when everybody was new together, comparatively
little could be done. The school must find itself before it began to
form its private code of laws. In the second year ill-luck had raised to
the post of honor Ivy Chatterton, a clever but most untactful girl,
whose quick temper had brought her into constant collision with her
prefects. Many were the squalls which had swept over the school, of so
serious a nature sometimes as almost to wreck several of the guilds. The
younger girls, following the example of their elders, had quarreled
hotly, and indulged in an incredible amount of petty spite, and
altogether the current tone had been anything but desirable. Miss
Bishop, who had seen, to her sorrow, this downward trend, had welcomed
the advent of Margaret, believing her to have the ability to cope with
difficult situations, and at the same time to have the grit and
self-control not to allow her head to be turned by her elevation to
office.
"You will have a great responsibility: I am giving you unusual power,
and I trust that you will make the highest use of it," she had said to
the girl, during a certain quiet ten minutes' talk in her study, and
Margaret had held herself very straight, and had answered: "I'll do my
level best, Miss Bishop!"
All eyes were now fixed on the head girl as she stood in the center of
the platform, ringing the bell for silence. The clamor subsided as if by
magic, and in the midst of a dead hush she began her speech.
"Girls! We've been back now for a whole fortnight--time for most of us
to shake down into our places, isn't it? The school year's fairly
started, and we've met together this afternoon to talk about a number of
things that are of very great importance to us all. You all know that a
school--to be worth anything--has two sides. There's the inside part,
with classes and prep. and exams.--what's generally called the
'curriculum'--that's managed by the mistresses. And there's the outside
part, the games and sports and concerts and guilds--that's run by the
girls themselves. Now I think, if we arrange well, we ought to be able
to look forward to three very jolly terms. Everything depends upon
making a good start. I've been getting to know how they manage in
several other big schools, and I propose that we frame our code by
theirs. What we want first of all is a feeling of unity and public
spirit. Each girl must make up her mind to do all she can to push on the
'Seaton High.' We want to win matches, and have a good sports record,
and generally build up a reputation. Slacking at games must be out of
the question. Everybody must buck up all round. Those who aren't playing
themselves can show their interest by attending the matches. It makes
the greatest difference to an eleven to know that their own side is
watching their play, and ready to cheer them on. There's nothing so
forlorn and depressing as to see whole rows of the enemy's school hats
on the spectators' benches, and only half-a-dozen of one's own--yet
that's what happened when we played Harbury last spring. No wonder we
lost! I'm going to ask you presently to elect a Games Captain, and then
I want you to support her loyally for the whole of the year. Let her
feel that she can depend upon you, and that instead of getting together
scratch teams, her difficulty will be how to choose among so many crack
players. But as you know, games are not the whole of our business
to-day. We have our guilds to consider as well. I want to put these upon
a good and firm basis. Last winter we didn't quite know where we were
with them, did we? At present we have 'The Dramatic Society,' 'The
Debating Club,' 'The Literary Association,' and 'The Patriotic Knitting
Guild.' We might very well add a 'Photographic Union' and a 'Natural
History League.' They ought all to be run on the same lines. Each must
have a President, a Secretary, and a Committee of eight members, who
will undertake the business of the Society, and settle all its events.
Any difficulty or dispute must be referred to the Prefects' meeting, the
decision of which shall be final. Each guild must draw up a list of its
own rules; these must be submitted first to the Prefects, then, if
passed as satisfactory, they must be written in the minutes book, and
strictly adhered to. I want you all to realize that this school is still
in its infancy. It's a baby of only two years! But a very promising
baby! It's we who are going to make its history. So far we can't say it
has had any annals; in the future it must show a whole splendid list of
achievements and successes. Years afterwards, when it's the most famous
school in the county, we shall be proud to have had the privilege of
taking our share in pushing it on, and our names may be handed down to
long generations of girls as those who founded its best traditions."
Margaret paused, quite out of breath with her long speech. A storm of
applause rose from the audience; the girls clapped and stamped, a few
even cheered. Margaret had touched the right string. The idea of making
school history appealed to them, and they were ready to respond with
enthusiasm to her appeal. Even the ten-year-olds were eager to show
their zeal. Winona had never taken her eyes off the speaker. It was a
new gospel to her that she was one of the great community, bound to help
the common weal. The realization of it stirred her spirit; her
imagination danced ahead, and performed prodigies. Suppose she could do
something wonderful for the school, and leave her name as a memory to
others? The vision gleamed golden. It would be worth living to
accomplish that.
"Not half a bad speech!" murmured Garnet approvingly by her side.
Winona started, and came back from the clouds.
"I think it's--just immense!" she answered with a long sigh of
admiration.
Margaret was again ringing the bell for silence.
"I'm glad to find you all agree with me," she announced. "Now I want us
to get solidly to business, and elect a Games Captain. You remember I
asked each to nominate a candidate, and I find that more than two-thirds
have handed in the same name--that of Kirsty Paterson. I therefore put
Kirsty up for election. It's only fair that I should first go over her
qualifications for the office. She was our best center forward last year
at hockey, and our best bowler at cricket. She's a thoroughly steady and
reliable player herself, and--this is most important--she's able to
train others. You know from experience that she's fair and just, and
she's tremendously keen. I feel sure that in her hands the games would
prosper, and we'd soon show some improvement. Will all those in favor of
electing Kirsty kindly stand up?"
There was such a general rising among the girls that most presidents
would have considered the matter settled. Margaret, however, liked to do
things strictly in order.
"Thanks I Will you please sit down again. Now those against the election
kindly stand."
A certain section in the school had intended to vote against Kirsty, but
when they saw themselves so enormously outnumbered, they changed their
minds. To belong to a minority often means to be unpopular, and it is
wise to go with the stream. After all, Kirsty was a thoroughly eligible
and desirable candidate. So though a few neighbors elbowed each other,
nobody rose.
Margaret waited a moment.
"Do I understand that you're all in favor? Then the motion is carried
unanimously. I'm very glad, for I think Kirsty will make an ideal
captain. Let's give three cheers for her. Are you ready? Hip-hip-hip
hooray!"
The girls responded with full lung power. Some even began to sing: "For
she's a jolly good fellow!" and there was a general outcry of "Speech!
Speech!" The blushing Kirsty--a bonny, rosy, athletic looking
lassie--was seized by her fellow prefects, and dragged, in spite of her
protests, to the front of the platform. Kirsty had been born north of
the Tweed, and in moments of excitement her pretty Scottish burr
asserted itself.
"It's verra kind of you to elect me," she began. "I'm afraid I'm no hand
at making speeches. I preferr deeds to worrds. We'll all put ourr
shoulderrs to the wheel, and win forr the school, won't we? I hope we'll
have a splendid yearr!"
At that she retired amidst rapturous applause. Margaret again rang the
bell for silence, and proceeded with the business of the meeting, which
was to elect the officers for the various societies and guilds. This
being satisfactorily settled, she turned to affairs of lighter moment.
"I'm sure you'll all agree that it is very desirable for us to have a
form trophy, for hockey, at any rate. Perhaps by next summer we'll get
one for cricket as well. It will spur us on to have a little wholesome
competition amongst ourselves. As I announced on the notice board, we
are now going to give a short entertainment, at the close of which a
collection will be taken for the object I have just mentioned. I hate
begging, so give what you like, but of course it depends on your
generosity this afternoon what kind of a trophy we are able to buy. The
first item on our program is a piano solo by Hester King."
Hester was one of the best music pupils in the school. She had a good
crisp touch and considerable execution, and led off the concert with a
sprightly tarantella. A violin solo followed, by Sibyl Lee, a member of
V.b., who was rather nervous, but acquitted herself fairly well
on the whole.
"I thought I'd break down," she confided to her friends. "The sight of
all those eyes staring at me quite put me off. I don't wonder blind
musicians are generally successes, they can't see the audience. Well,
never mind, I've done my bit, at any rate!"
The next on the list was a song from Annie Hardy. She had chosen "Keep
the Home Fires Burning," and rendered it with great effect, the whole
room joining with enthusiasm in the chorus. It took so well that there
were shouts of "Encore!" and Annie came back smiling to give "Khaki
Boys," which roused her audience to an even higher pitch of patriotic
fervor. A recitation, "Our Hockey Match," by Agnes Heath, was felt to be
particularly appropriate to the occasion. It was a very good "school
piece," humorous as well as exciting, and Agnes had enough dramatic
ability to do justice to it. Her own form in particular stamped lustily.
The prefects motioned her forward again, but she shook her head. The
clapping redoubled. Agnes, escorted to the front by Margaret, bowed and
announced:
"Fearfully sorry not to oblige, but this is absolutely the only thing I
know, and it's too long to say all over again!"
There was a general laugh, and the audience settled itself to enjoy the
next item on the program. Margaret was signaling to Winona and Garnet,
and the pair slipped from their places, and made their way to the
platform.
"I'm all upset! I hope I shan't break down!" whispered Winona.
"Nonsense! A duet's not so bad as a solo. You'll get on all right. Do
for goodness' sake brace up!" implored Garnet. "If you muddle your
accompaniment you'll spoil my part. You'll surely never go and fail me!"
The instruments had been put under the piano. Patricia Marshall handed
them forth, and sounded the notes for them to be tuned. Clarice Nixon
was placing chairs and music-stands. Garnet was tolerably composed, but
Winona was suffering from a bad attack of that most unpleasant malady
"stage fright." She would have given worlds for a trapdoor in the
platform to open, and allow her to subside out of sight. No such
convenient arrangement, however, had been provided for the use of
bashful performers, the planks were solid, and guaranteed not to give
way under any circumstances. There was nothing for it but to take her
seat in full view of the audience. There were slightly over two hundred
girls in the room, but to Winona's fevered imagination there appeared to
be thousands. She wondered how she could ever have had the folly to
place herself in such a public situation. Garnet was sounding a few
notes and looking at her to begin. For one dreadful moment the room
whirled. Perhaps Margaret saw and understood; she laid her hand on
Winona's shaking arm, and whispered encouragingly:
"Go on! Don't mind the audience. Just remember that you're playing for
the form trophy!"
A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over Winona. All the school
patriotism aroused within her by Margaret's speech surged up to meet the
crisis. She was no longer an isolated atom, a girl fresh from home, and
on trial before the critical eyes of her new form, but a unit in the
great life of the school, bound to play her part for the good of the
whole, and specially pledged not to fail Garnet in this emergency. Self
faded in the larger vision. The color flooded back into her face. She
made a desperate effort, and struck the opening chords.
As her friend had reminded her, a duet was quite a different matter from
a solo. Directly the mandoline part began, her confidence returned. She
tried to think that she was only playing an accompaniment for Garnet.
The piece was not difficult, it was in D, quite the easiest key for the
guitar, with very few accidentals or high positions. She took courage,
and struck her strings crisply, so that the tone rang out well. Her
instrument was a good one, very true and mellow, and her mother had
taught her the liquid Spanish touch which showed it to its best
advantage. Garnet also was doing her best. Her plectrum vibrated evenly
and rapidly, and the metallic twang, her gravest fault, was not nearly
so evident as usual. The audience, unfamiliar with these particular
instruments, was not hypercritical, and so long as the players kept well
together, and sounded no discords, their skill was judged to be
excellent. The Barcarolle had an attractive swing about it, and a
romantic suggestion of gondolas and lapping water and moonlight
serenades. As the last notes of the air on the mandoline died away,
Winona swept her thumb over the strings of her guitar in a tremendous
final chord. It had quite a magnificent and professional effect. There
was no mistake about the applause; it was simply clamorous.
"Stand up and bow!" whispered Margaret, nudging the unaccustomed
performers. "That's right! Bow again! It's most clearly an encore. Have
you brought anything else with you? Good biz! Don't waste any more time,
then. We're rather late."
The song that Winona had chosen was a bright little Irish ditty, with a
catchy tune and lively accompaniment. Garnet played the air softly on
the mandoline, and the two girls sang in unison, keeping strictly
together, and pronouncing very plainly, so that the point of the amusing
words should not be lost. The audience shrieked with laughter, and would
have demanded a further encore, had not Margaret pointed to the clock,
and shaken her head firmly. There were other items on the program and
time was going all too fast.
Another violin solo, a recitation and a Highland fling followed; then
the concert wound up with a Christy Minstrel song from several members
of the Sixth. This last was the triumph of the afternoon. Patricia
prided herself on her preparations. She had placed a newspaper inside
the grand piano over the strings, and when the hammers struck against it
the effect of the accompaniment was exactly that of a banjo. She had
borrowed two sets of castanets, a pair of cymbals, and a triangle, and
with these loud-sounding instruments she and her companions emphasized
the chorus. Garnet and Winona helped with mandoline and guitar, so the
general result was quite orchestral. During the performance of this
chef-d'oeuvre some of the prefects went round with collecting bags,
which were passed along the benches.
"Come, my dark-eyed honey,
And help to spend my money,"
chanted the minstrels lustily, and the audience smiled at the
appropriateness of the words.
It was felt that the Symposium had been an enormous success. The girls
were quite loath to leave, and dispersed slowly from the gymnasium. Many
eyes were turned on Winona and Garnet as they carried their instruments
down from the platform. "Who are they?" every one was asking, for so far
their names were not known outside their own form. "The two County
Scholarship holders," somebody replied, and the information was passed
on.
Next morning, Margaret proudly posted up the result of the collection,
which amounted to £2 13_s._ 7_d._--a very substantial sum in the
estimation of the school.
"It ought to be sufficient to buy a cup!" she triumphed. "Miss Bishop
has promised to send for some catalogues, so that we can look up the
prices. We shall start the season well, at any rate. Kirsty's almost
ready to stand on her head! I never saw any one so elated!"
"Except yourself!" smiled Patricia.
"Cela va sans dire, camarade!"
Garnet and Winona, walking down the High Street together after the
performance, also compared notes.
"It was fine! I do admire Margaret. Mustn't it be splendid to be head of
the school?" sighed Garnet enviously.
"Do you think so? Yes, I suppose it is, but if I had my choice, I'd a
dozen times over rather be Games Captain," answered Winona.