BASKET BALL ELECTION
As Senior President, Lois was a decided failure. It was not through any
lack of interest on her part in the class and its affairs, but rather
because the fairies at her christening had failed to bestow upon her the
gift of leadership with which Polly was so richly endowed.
She just couldn't think of the hundred and one practical things that
needed attending to. Perhaps Miss Crosby was partly to blame. She had
taken a decided interest in Lois from their meeting on the stairs, and
had given her permission to use the studio at any time. She had
criticized her work and gave her helpful points not infrequently in her
own room, where Lois often dropped in at tea time.
But progress in art, though beneficial to Lois, was of no use to the
Senior class. Polly was at her wit's end. Lois had called a class
meeting the day before and forgotten to come to it. School had been
running smoothly for over a month by now, and all the strangeness of
the first few weeks had worn off. With Thanksgiving in sight, the girls
felt that they were well into the year.
To-day was Friday. After dinner the election for the basket ball captain
was scheduled and nothing was arranged.
Polly, after looking in the gym and some of the classrooms for Lois,
returned to Senior Alley. She was excited about the election, but she
was more deeply concerned about Lois. She was thinking and she walked
slowly in consequence. As she entered the corridor Dot Mead's voice,
high pitched and angry, made her stop abruptly.
"Not a thing planned, the slips not ready, and here it is Friday
afternoon. Lois wasn't like this last year. If she accepted the office
of president why doesn't she act up to it! Why, even the Freshmen are
criticizing." Her voice subsided into a grumble of displeasure.
Polly shook her head slowly and went quietly into her own room. The
Dorothys were growling as usual. She had to admit that this time there
was a little cause, too.
What had come over Lois. Polly realized with a sudden drawing together
of her eyebrows, that she was seeing less and less of her all the time.
"Art!" she said, aloud, and laughed. Then she went out to find Betty.
"Something's got to be done," she announced, when she found her with
Angela, "and we've got to do it. Ange, you print the notice of the
election in red ink, and put it on the bulletin board. And, Bet, you
make the ballot box. There's a big square wooden box under my bed--you
can cut a hole in it. I'll go and find Phylis and Jane and get them to
help me tear up paper slips. They'll love it, and they'll keep quiet
about it."
"What'll we tell the rest?" Angela asked. "They ought to appreciate our
saving them this trouble, but they won't," she added dryly.
Polly hesitated a moment.
"We'll post a notice on the board for a meeting to be held at two
fifteen," she said boldly.
"But it's three o'clock," Angela protested, but Betty understood.
"I'm ashamed of your deceit, Polly," she said with pretended scorn,
adding: "It's a bully idea."
"No, it's not; I hate it; it's really a written fib, but-- Well, I'd do
a lot more than that for Lo," Polly answered.
"Do you mean put up the sign so that the other girls will think we had a
meeting, and they didn't come?"
Angela was flabbergasted at the idea.
"Exactly."
"Oh, I see. They'll be awfully cross we didn't send for them, and I love
the two Dorothys when they're mad. But, Poll, for goodness' sake give
Lois a lecture; we don't want this to happen too often, one fib's
enough," she finished with a yawn. "Now, I'll go paint the sign."
Jane and Phylis were only too anxious to help make the slips--hero
worship shone from their eyes as they took the sample from Polly.
"Aren't you excited?" Phylis asked. "Landy, I'd be standing on my head
if I thought--" She stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth.
Phylis' frank adoration really amused Polly. She found it very hard
sometimes to face it with the proper Senior dignity. The excited little
Freshman reminded her of herself at the same age. She almost wished the
youngsters could make the sub team as she and Lois had done.
"I'm not excited, because I don't think I have much chance," she
answered, which was exactly what both girls had expected her to say.
"Bring those slips down to my room when you've finished, and don't say
that you helped, will you? It wouldn't do for any one to think that the
Seniors had favorite helpers," she said as she left them.
After she had gone, Jane and Phylis locked their door and talked in
whispers, while they worked.
Polly went down stairs, printed out the notice of the class meeting and
pinned it on the bulletin board. She had an uncomfortably guilty
feeling, tinged with pride and a certain amount of satisfaction when it
was up. For it took real courage for Polly to lie, even for Lois. Then
she went to Betty's room, helped her with the box and did several other
things.
It was time to dress for dinner before she returned to her room. She was
brushing her hair before the dresser when Lois burst in upon her.
"Polly!" she exclaimed. "Isn't this awful! I forgot about to-night and
all the things there were to do. I was painting in the studio--oh, a
duck of a picture, the corner of the house that you see from the window,
and I forgot all about the time. What, under the sun, will I do?"
Polly's chance had come, and she had no intention of letting it escape
her.
"Rather late to do anything, don't you think?" she asked indifferently,
still brushing her hair.
Lois was taken by surprise. "But, Poll, you've got to help me," she
begged, "think how furious the Dorothys will be."
"Can you blame them?" Polly held her brush in mid air. "As an organized
and governing class we are rather a joke, and the Dorothys don't like to
be laughed at," she finished, cuttingly.
This was too much for Lois. She had been working hard all afternoon over
her picture and she was tired. She threw herself down on her bed and
burst into tears.
"Polly," she sobbed, "don't act like that. I know I'm no good as a
president. I'll resign to-night, only--oh, dear--" The rest was muffled
in the pillow.
Polly made a start forward, stopped, made a last effort to be severe,
and gave in.
"Lois, dear, don't," she pleaded, kneeling beside the bed, "don't cry
any more, sit up and listen to me. Everything's all right." Lois dabbed
at her eyes. "We've had a class meeting, the box is ready, the slips are
fixed and the notice is up. We're supposed to have had a meeting, that
is, I put a sign up that there'd be one at two-fifteen, only--" Polly
hesitated. "I put it up at three o'clock. The Dorothys and Evelin and
Helen will think we had it without them."
"Polly!" Lois was beginning to understand. "You deliberately did that
to save me. You darling, I promise I'll resign to-night."
"Resign!" Polly stood up, a sparkle in her eye. "Lois Farwell, if you
resign, I'll never, never speak to you again. I mean it."
Lois was apparently frightened into submission, for she said:
"All right, Poll, I won't." Very meekly.
That evening the two Dorothys were astonished and not a little put out
with the ease with which the election was gone through with. They had
seen the class meeting sign, and with Evelin and Helen accepted it
without a doubt, which added considerably to Polly's discomfort.
Lois, now that she was really awake to the necessity, acted the part of
senior president, and announced and directed, quite properly.
The votes were cast in the Assembly Hall. Each girl wrote the name of
her choice for captain on a slip of paper and put it in the box. Then,
all the girls who had been on the big team the year before, with the
assistance of the Seniors, counted the votes.
The whole thing on this particular evening was gone through with in
deadly silence, which was nerve racking, particularly to Polly. Not for
worlds would she have confessed what it meant to her, but ever since
her Freshman year, she had wanted to be captain. She had condemned the
wish as foolish, but she had continued to hope.
After what seemed an endless wait, the names were sorted and counted,
written on a sheet of paper and presented to Lois. She looked at it,
gave a shout of joy, jumped up from her seat, and then, remembering the
two Dorothys' love of form, she said quietly: "I have the honor to
announce that Polly Pendleton has won the election by a sweeping
majority."
And so it happened--
When the school heard it a little later everybody said:
"Why, of course. We knew it; no one else had a chance," and hurried to
Polly to congratulate her. She said: "Thank you" to them all, and tried
hard to fight down the silly, but uncontrollable longing to cry.
Lois slipped away the very first chance she got and went down stairs. On
her way she met Betty.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
Lois smiled, mysteriously.
"To send a telegram to Bob," she answered. "He made me promise I would."
The next day at luncheon, Polly found a yellow envelope at her place at
table.
"What under the sun!" she demanded, looking at it. "Who do you suppose
it's from?"
"Opening it would be a good way to find out," Betty suggested.
Polly tore open the envelope.
"Why it's from Bob! Lois, you wretch, listen!"
And she read the message. "Lois wired me the good news. Hearty
congratulations, and good luck. Bob."
"Don't call me a wretch." Lois protested, with a wicked grin. "Bob made
me vow I'd wire him the minute little Polly was elected."
For the rest of the meal Polly was teased unmercifully.
After school the three held council, while she took down Lois' Princeton
banner--for a week was up--and triumphantly put up her own.
"I don't envy you your job, Polly," Betty began, "who are you going to
choose for your team?"
"Isn't it a blessing the Dorothys don't play?" Lois laughed, "or we'd
have to have them."
"Why the main team is easy," Polly said. "There's you and Bet, and
Evelin and myself already on it, and all Seniors; that only leaves two
more to choose, and they'll have to be Juniors. Let's get Evelin and go
over to the gym and see what's doing."
They found sweaters and caps, called Evelin, and started off. Angela met
them on the way.
"I'm going, too," she insisted; "even if I can't play, my advice is
invaluable."
When they reached the gym a game was under way, and much to their
surprise, Fanny Gerard was in the thick of it.
"Jemima! look at that!" Betty exclaimed, as she made a difficult basket.
"Now who'd have thought it!"
They had not seen much of Fanny in the last month. They had no idea she
had taken their ridicule to heart. She had rebelled against it at first,
and then, gradually, other interests had blotted out her resentment.
Lately she had been playing basket ball every day.
Evelin was the only one of the girls watching who was not surprised.
"She's the right build," she said, "and I know she's been at it all the
time--but, of course, she doesn't expect to make the team."
"She ought to. Look at that!" Lois drew attention to another play.
"Imagine any one apparently as slow and dreamy as she is, playing such
a rattling game. Let's put her down for a sub, anyway."
Polly, who had not been paying much attention to the rest, said
suddenly:
"We'll have to put her on the main team. We need two girls, and there's
only one other Junior besides Fanny who can play, and that's Eleanor
Trent. She was on the team at the school where she went last year. There
she is, the girl with the auburn hair. She's used to boys' rules, but
otherwise she's a good player."
"Jemima! two new girls!" Betty said dolefully. "Well, it can't be
helped. Certainly the old ones are a hopeless lot."
"When do we tell them?" Evelin inquired. "Let's do it now. Goodness! I
remember how thrilled I was when I was put on last year."
"Let's call them out of the game; that'll make them feel so important,"
Lois suggested.
So Polly asked permission from Miss Stewart, the gym teacher, and Fanny
and Eleanor came over to them.
Polly, as captain, told them they had been chosen for the big team.
Eleanor had rather expected it. She was a good player, but she was
delighted and promised to try and make good.
But Fanny! No words can express her excited raptures. She couldn't
believe her good luck, and she sent the girls into peals of laughter by
solemnly asking Polly to take her oath on it.
"I knew she'd be rare," Betty exclaimed on their way back to school. "I
was sure she'd weep for joy."
"I hope it's all right," Lois said, doubtfully. "I wish she wasn't quite
so excitable." Lois played basket ball with her head.
"Oh, she'll be all right if she doesn't go at it too hard," Polly said,
assuringly. "Wonder if we have any mail?" She stopped before the Senior
letter box. "One for you, Lo, from your mother, and one for me. Let's go
in English room and read them. Mine's from Bob."
The other girls found their mail, and went up to their rooms.
Lois and Polly, left alone, opened their letters and read them through.
"Mother's is awfully short," Lois said, before Polly had finished hers.
"She says she knows something awfully nice that's going to happen
Thanksgiving, but she has promised Bob not to tell. What's yours about?"
"Oh, Lo! poor Bobbie has sprained his ankle and he can't run any more."
Polly's voice trembled. "I'll read you what he says:
"Dear Old Polly:
"Telegraphing congratulations is no good. It costs too much to be
eloquent. Besides, I've a lot of things I want to say, but, first
of all, Three Cheers for you. Seddon Hall is darn lucky to have
such a corking little captain--and you'll lead them to victory and
have your name on the cup. Make them put it on extra large."
"Old tease," Polly laughed, and Lois said: "Just like Bob."
"And now, I'm going to talk about myself. Two weeks ago I sprained
all the ligaments in my foot, and--well, there's not much use my
trying to be cheerful about it--not to you anyway. It means I
probably won't be able to run again--and so, good-by to my hopes
of winning my H. Remember the long talks we used to have about it?
I guess instead of watching me cross the tape from the grand
stand, you'll sit beside me next May and listen to me groan while
some other fellow runs in my place, which reminds me:
"I've planned a surprise for you and Lois on Thanksgiving. I don't
like to boast, but it's rather nice--even mother says so.
"Drop me a line, Miss Basket Ball Captain, and tell me you'll
accept.
"Yours,
"Bob."
"How exciting! What do you suppose it is?" Lois demanded, as she
followed Polly upstairs. "It's a shame about Bobbie's foot. Vacation
begins next week. Isn't it thrilling! I do hope he has sense enough to
bring home some one nice--but I suppose it will be his roommate, Jim
Thorpe, as usual, and I don't like him much." They had reached their
room by now.
"I'll bet the surprise is a football game, don't you?" Lois persisted.
"Oh, keep still, Lo!" Polly said, crossly, "and leave me alone."
Lo glanced up in surprise, and suddenly decided to look for Betty. She
left Polly standing before the Crimson banner, blinking hard.