The Swimming Contest
Once the examinations were over, Winona's spirits, which had been
decidedly at Il Penseroso, went up to L'Allegro. The strain of coaching
Garnet had been very great, but the relief was in corresponding
proportion. She felt as if a burden had rolled from her shoulders. There
was just a month of the term left. The Sixth would of course be expected
to do its ordinary form work, but the amount of home study required
would be reasonable, quite a different matter from the intolerable grind
of preparation for a University examination. The extra afternoon classes
with Miss Goodson were no longer necessary, leaving a delightful period
of leisure half-hours at school. Winona intended to employ these
blissful intervals in cricket practice, at the tennis courts, in helping
to arrange the museum, and in carrying out several other pet schemes
that she had been forced hitherto to set aside. Bessie Kirk had made a
good deputy, but it was nice to take the reins into her own hands once
more, and feel that she was head of the Games department. She coached
her champions assiduously. At tennis Emily Cooper and Bertha March stood
out like planets among the stars. They had already beaten Westwood High
School and Hill Top Secondary School, and hoped to have a chance
against Binworth College, of hitherto invincible reputation. The match
would not take place for a fortnight, which gave extra time for
practice. In cricket, Betty Carlisle had come to the front at bowling,
while Maggie Allesley and Irene Swinburne were heroines of the bat. It
is inevitable that some girls should overtop the rest, but Winona would
not on that account allow the others to slack. She knew the importance
of a high general average of play, and urged on several laggers. She
thoroughly realized the importance of fielding, and made her eleven
concentrate their minds upon it.
"We lost Tamley on fielding," she affirmed, "and if we've any intention
of beating Binworth, we've just got to practice catching and throwing
in."
Of the two matches in which the school had so far taken part, the first,
with Baddeley High School, had been a draw, and in the second, with
Tamley, they had been beaten. It was not an encouraging record, and
Winona felt that for the credit of the school it was absolutely
necessary to vanquish Binworth. Its team had a fairly good reputation,
so it would be no easy task, but after the hockey successes of last
winter she did not despair. Apart from school she had a very pleasant
time. Nearly every evening after supper Aunt Harriet would suggest a
short run in the car before sunset. She generally allowed her niece to
take the wheel as soon as they were clear of the town traffic, and
Winona soon became quite expert at driving. She liked to feel the little
car answering to her guidance; there was a thrill in rounding corners
and steering past carts, and every time she went out she gained fresh
confidence. She was not at all nervous, and kept her head admirably in
several small emergencies, managing so well that Aunt Harriet finally
allowed her to bring the car back down the High Street, which, as it was
the most crowded portion of the town, was considered the motorist's
ordeal in Seaton. She acquitted herself with great credit, passed a
tramcar successfully, and understood the signals of the policeman who
waved his hand at the corner. Aunt Harriet had taken out a driver's
license for her, so having proved her skill in the High Street, she now
felt quite a full-fledged lady chauffeur.
Winona immensely enjoyed these evening runs when the sky was aflame with
sunset, and the trees were quiet dark masses of color, and the long road
stretched out before her, pink from the glow above, and the lacey
hemlocks and meadowsweets made a soft blurred border below the
hedgerows. With an open road in front of her she was tempted sometimes
to put on speed, and felt as if she were flying onwards into a dream
country where all was vague and mysterious and shadowy and unknown. She
was always loth to return, but Aunt Harriet was extremely particular
that they must be home before lighting-up time, and would point
remorselessly to the small clock that hung facing the seat. Perhaps
Winona's greatest triumph was when, one evening, she managed without any
assistance to run the car into its own shed in the garage, a delicate
little piece of steering which required fine calculation, a quick hand,
and a rapid turn. She was learning something of the mechanism, too,
could refill the petrol tank, and was almost anxious for a tire to
burst, so that she might have the opportunity of putting on the Stepney
wheel, though this latter ambition was not shared by her aunt.
"When all the men have gone to the war, I'll be able to drive a taxi or
a war van, and make myself useful to the Government! I believe I could
clean the car perfectly well if Sam should be called up, and has to
leave the garage. I'd just enjoy turning the hose on it. What would they
give me a week to take Sam's place here?"
"They'd give you a snubbing if you asked them!" laughed Aunt Harriet.
"Cleaning a car is uncommonly hard work. You might manage our small one,
but by the time you'd done the whole round of the garage, you'd be ready
to declare it wasn't a woman's job."
"I'd chance it!" retorted Winona.
She had her opportunity after all, for the garage attendant was taken
ill, and remained off duty for several days. On the Saturday morning
Winona set to work and cleaned, polished and oiled the car thoroughly.
It was very dirty after a muddy day's use, so she had her full
experience. It was certainly far harder than she had anticipated, and
she felt devoutly thankful that she was not bound to attack the cars in
the other sheds, and perform similar services for each.
"Sam earns his money," she assured Aunt Harriet, when she returned at
lunch-time. "On the whole, I've decided I won't be a lady chauffeur.
It's bad enough to have to clean one's bicycle, but if I had to go
through this car performance every day, I don't think there'd be very
much left of me."
"Ah! I told you so!" returned, Aunt Harriet triumphantly.
Motoring was not the only fresh form of activity which Winona had taken
up this summer. The school had organized swimming classes, and on
certain clean-water days detachments of girls were conducted to the
public baths. Owing to her college entrance examinations, Winona had not
been able to attend the full course, but she had learnt to swim last
summer at the baths, and was as enthusiastic as anybody. Miss Medland,
the teacher, was an expert from Dunningham; she was skillful herself,
and clever at training her pupils. The girls soon gained confidence in
the water, and began to be able to perform what they called "mermaid
high jinks."
The Public Baths at Seaton were most remarkably good, so good indeed
that many of the citizens had raised a protest against the Corporation
for spending so much money upon them. The High School girls, who had not
to pay the rates, did not sympathize with the grumbles of ratepayers,
and rejoiced exceedingly in the sumptuous accommodation. They specially
appreciated the comfort of the dressing-rooms, and the convenience of
the hot-air apparatus for drying their hair. The restaurant, where tea
or bovril could be had, was also a luxury for those who were apt to turn
shivery after coming from the water.
"I can understand why the Romans were so enthusiastic about their public
baths," said Audrey Redfern. "Just think of having little trays of
eatables floating about on the water, so that you could have a snack
whenever you wanted, and slaves to bring you delicious scent afterwards,
and garlands of flowers. I wish I'd lived some time B.C.
instead of in the twentieth century!"
"Be thankful you didn't live in the twelfth, for then you mightn't have
had a bath at all!" returned Winona; "certainly not a public one, and
probably not the private one either. An occasional canful of water would
have been thought quite sufficient for you, with perhaps a dip in a
stream if you could get it. The people who bathed were mostly pilgrims
at Holy Wells, and they all used the same water, no matter what their
diseases were."
"How disgusting! Well, on the whole I'm tolerably satisfied to belong to
the poor old twentieth century. It might be better, but it might be
worse."
"How kind of you! I'm sure posterity will be grateful for your
approval."
"D'you want me to push you into the water, Winona Woodward? I will, in
half a second!"
At the end of the course it was arranged that a swimming contest should
take place among the girls, and that various prizes should be offered
for championships. It was the first event of the kind in the annals of
the school, so naturally it aroused much enthusiasm. About thirty
candidates were selected by Miss Medland as eligible for competitions,
the rest of her pupils having to content themselves with looking on. A
special afternoon was given up to the display, and invitations were sent
out to parents to come and help to swell the audience.
"Are you in for the mermaidens' fête?" Winona asked Marjorie Kemp.
"Mermaidens' fête, indeed! How romantic we are all of a sudden! The frog
fight, I should call it."
"There speaks the voice of envy! You're evidently out of it."
"Don't want to be in it, thanks! It'll be wretched work shivering round
the edge of the bath for a solid hour!"
"Sour grapes, my child!" teased Winona.
"Go on, my good girl--if you want to make me raggy, you just shan't
succeed, that's all!"
"Now I _should_ like to have been chosen!" mourned Evelyn Richards. "I
don't mind confessing that I've had a disappointment. I thought I could
swim quite as well as Freda, and it's grizzly hard luck that she was
picked out and I wasn't. Rank favoritism, I call it!"
"Poor old Eve! Look here, I'll tell you a secret. You head the reserve
list. I know because I saw it. If anybody has a cold on the day of the
event, you'll take her place."
"You mascot! Shall I? Oh! I do hope somebody'll catch cold--not badly,
but just enough to make it unsafe to go into the water. You can't think
how I want to try my luck. I don't suppose I've a chance of a prize, but
if I did get one, why I'd cock-a-doodle-do the school down!"
"I'm quite sure you would! Trust you to blow your own trumpet!"
"Winona Woodward, if you'd been properly and thoroughly spanked in your
babyhood, you'd be a much more civil person now. I decline your company.
Ta-ta!"
"Poor old Eve! Take it sporting!" said Winona soothingly.
On the afternoon of the great event, the ladies' large bath was
specially reserved for the school. A goodly crowd of spectators filled
almost to overflowing the galleries that ran round the hall; interested
fathers and mothers, sympathetic aunts, and a sprinkling of cousins and
friends made up the visitors' list, and the rest of the space was
crammed with school girls. Each likely champion had her own set of
supporters, who murmured her name as a kind of war cry, and were only
restrained from shouting it at the pitch of their lungs by the sight of
Miss Bishop, who stood below, talking to Miss Medland and the judge. The
enthusiasm went perhaps more by favor than by actual prowess, and could
hardly be taken as an augury of success, for Barbara Jones, who was
popular, received much more encouragement than Olga Dickinson, who had
distanced her every time at the practices. Juniors will be juniors,
however, and the fourth and third forms stamped solidly for Barbara,
ignoring the superior claims of her rival.
The bath, with its blue and white tiles, looked tempting. All the school
envied the candidates as they came marching in in their costumes.
"Evelyn's got a place after all!" said Garnet, who was among the
spectators, to Gladys Cooper, who sat next to her. "Some one else must
be off, then. Who is it? Freda Long? Poor old Freda! Got toothache? It's
hard luck on her! There's Winona. I don't believe she'll win, but I'll
cheer her! Rather!"
Winona also did not think it likely that she would win. She had only had
time for half the lessons, which put her at a serious disadvantage with
girls who had taken the full course. It was unsporting, however, to go
in confident of defeat, so she meant to do her best.
The first event was the Upper School Championship for the fastest
swimmer. The candidates stood ready at the edge of the bath, then at the
given signal they flung themselves into the water, and started. At first
they were fairly even, but after a dozen yards or so several shot ahead.
The irrepressible juniors lost all control in their excitement, and
cheered on each as she appeared to be gaining.
"Audrey Redfern!"
"No, no! Jess Gardner!"
"Winona Woodward!"
"Elsie Parton's passed her!"
"No, no! Winona's making up!"
"She'll never do it, though!"
"It's a draw!"
As a matter of fact Winona and Elsie Parton touched the winning tape at
the very identical moment. It was a great surprise for both of them.
Winona had expected Jess or Audrey to be first, and never thought of
Elsie as a possible champion. Elsie was in V.b. and had not
been very long at the school. No one had taken much notice of her up to
now, and the girls were rather staggered at her success. They did not
even clap her as she climbed up from the bath. The judge wrote down the
result, and called the next event. This was the Lower School
Championship, and the juniors were soon screaming for Barbara Jones and
Daisy James. The latter had it by a length, and walked away smiling, to
be wrapped up in a towel by Miss Lever, for she was a chilly little
creature, and apt to be taken with fits of shivers if she stood long out
of the water.
Diving followed, both from the edge of the bath and from the diving
board. In the Senior division Audrey and Jess secured the highest
scores, neither Winona nor Elsie coming near them. Winona was not really
very fond of diving, while Elsie staked her all upon extreme speed. The
Juniors did almost better than their elders, Olga Dickinson's
achievement quite carrying the enthusiasm of the hall.
The next competition was for style. The candidates swam first on their
sides, then on their backs, and finally on their backs moving their legs
only, their arms being placed on their hips. The judge put down marks
for each according to what she considered their deserts; until the list
should be made up, nobody knew who, in her expert opinion, had done the
best.
It was now the turn of the Midnight Race, a most important event, to
which the spectators were looking forward keenly. Only the best
swimmers were allowed to take part, the other candidates had to content
themselves with watching. The selected ten retired to the dressing-room,
and in a few moments emerged, each clad in a long white nightdress, and
holding a candlestick with a lighted candle in her hand. A roar of
applause rose from the gallery as the white-robed figures formed into
line. Every girl placed her candlestick on the edge of the bath, and
getting into the water, held on to the rail at attention. When the judge
gave the signal, each seized her candlestick and commenced to swim on
her back to the other side of the bath, holding up the candle in her
left hand. It was a feat that required steadiness and skill. Evelyn
Richards tried to hurry too fast, and the draft caused by her over-quick
passage blew out her flame. Mollie Hill caught her foot in her
nightdress, and dropped her candle altogether. Jess Gardner pursued the
original method of holding her candlestick in her teeth, and using both
arms to swim. There was keen excitement as the candidates cautiously
worked their way across. Each was required to place her candle for a
second on the edge of the bath, and then to swim back to the original
starting point. Only five competitors were in the running for the return
journey--Winona, Audrey Redfern, Elsie Parton, Dora Lloyd (a Fourth Form
girl), and little Olga Dickinson. The temptation to swim too fast was
overwhelming, and Audrey fell a victim to it, her flame going out just
in the middle of the bath. Olga Dickinson actually reached the starting
point the first, but Winona and Elsie Parton were only a second behind
her, placing their candlesticks down at the very same moment.
"I wonder how the score's going?" said Winona, as the Seniors stood
watching the Junior Handicap Race.
"I've no idea," returned Audrey. "You see we don't know what marks Miss
Gatehead has given for style, and several other things. She doesn't
judge exactly like Miss Medland does. It's a pity Freda Long's out of
it."
"What happened to Freda?"
"Got toothache. Can't you see her sitting up there in the gallery,
holding her cheek? She's looking at you!"
"Poor old Freda! Beastly hard luck!" murmured Winona, waving a
sympathetic greeting to her friend.
The Midnight Race had been intensely interesting, but the Obstacle Race
proved an even greater excitement. Two thin planks of wood were placed
across the bath, floating upon the water. The competitors started from
the deep end, dived under the first plank, and then scrambled over the
second. At the shallow end were a number of large round wash-tubs; each
candidate had to seize upon one of these and seat herself in it, a most
difficult feat of fine balancing, for unless she hit upon the exact
center of gravity, the tub promptly overturned, and flung her into the
water. It was a most mirth-provoking competition, candidates and
spectators bursting into shouts of laughter as one after another the
girls gingerly climbed into their tubs, and toppled over into the bath.
Those who managed at last to preserve their equilibrium were given
paddles, and had to navigate themselves to the nearest plank, where they
invariably fell out, and were rescued and towed back by attendant nymphs
told off for the purpose. Nobody succeeded in paddling to the plank and
back again, and the competition resolved itself into a series of
splashes, squeals and bursts of mirth. Even stately Miss Bishop was
laughing heartily, and the girls in the gallery were in a state
bordering on hysteria.
At last Miss Gatehead called order, and the dripping candidates retired
from their water carnival to await the judging. The scores were rapidly
added up, and the result was announced.
"Winona Woodward and Elsie Parton equal. They will therefore swim the
length of the bath to decide the championship."
Planks and tubs were hastily cleared away from the field of action, and
the rival candidates started on their final contest. The sympathies of
the gallery went strongly with Winona; the girls wanted their Games
Captain to win, and they cheered her vigorously. But Winona was tired,
Elsie Parton was lithe and active, and had made fast swimming her
specialty. Winona did her sporting best, but by the middle of the bath
Elsie had distanced her, and reached the winning post a whole length
ahead.
There was dead silence from the girls in the gallery. Their Captain had
failed, and they did not mean to applaud her opponent. Winona, looking
upwards, saw the popular feeling in their faces. All her generous spirit
rose in revolt. She was standing close to Miss Bishop, Miss Gatehead and
Miss Medland, and therefore it was certainly a breach of school
etiquette for her to do what she did, but acting on the impulse of the
moment she shouted: "Cheer, you slackers! Three cheers for Elsie
Parton!" and waving her hand as a signal, led off the "Hip-hip-hip
hurrah!" A very volume of sound followed, and the roof rang as Miss
Bishop presented the winner with the cup for the Championship.
"Thanks _awfully_, Winona!" said Elsie, as the girls walked away to the
dressing-rooms. "I'm afraid I've disappointed the school--but I did want
to win!"
"Of course you did--and why shouldn't you? I hope I can take a beating
in a sporting way! I think I made them ashamed of themselves. Fair play
and no favoritism is the tradition of this school, and I mean to have no
nasty cliquey feeling in it so long as I'm Games Captain, or my name's
not Winona Woodward! That's the law of the Medes and Persians!"