THE REVOLT OF THE “WHY-GET-UPS”
IT was the dull season between midyears and spring vacation--a time
that makes the ordinary Hardingite restless, and drives the clever ones
to all sorts of absurdities and extravagances. The best stunts are
always invented at this season, and the wildest pranks perpetrated.
This year Prexy guilelessly announced in chapel that “bobbing” and
“hitching” with sleds were not, in his estimation, dignified forms of
recreation for the “womanly woman” who was Harding’s ideal. So with
dust-pan coasting also under the ban, and the ice on the skating-rink
frozen humpy--just to be spiteful, Georgia Ames declared--the dull
season opened ten times duller than usual.
Of course Betty heard all about the “anti-bob” ordinance, and
sympathized duly with its downtrodden victims.
“There are getting to be too many old rules in this place, anyway,”
declared Lucile Merrifield hotly, as they discussed the matter over
their teacups in Flying Hoof’s stall. “We’re supposed to be sensible,
reasonable creatures and to know what’s permissible in this rural
retreat. I shouldn’t go ‘hitching’ in New York. I should probably wear
my hat there when I went out shopping. Prexy doesn’t give his sweet
creation, the womanly woman, credit for ordinary intelligence.”
“He wouldn’t be able to if he heard you talk, my dear,” Polly Eastman
told her soothingly. “Have some more of Betty’s Cousin Kate cookies.
They’re very good for the temper, and not against the rules.”
“Are you sure?” demanded Lucile acidly. “There are so many rules now
that I shouldn’t pretend to keep them all in my head at once.”
“Let’s get Madeline and make her tell tea-ground fortunes,” suggested
Georgia. “I’m tired of all this fuss about rules.”
But Madeline, who was in the loft writing, had overheard enough of
the conversation to enable her to make her fortunes timely, and the
“anti-bob” ordinance was not yet disposed of.
“You’ve got a tempest in your teacup, Lucile,” she announced. “It’s a
frightful brain-storm brought on by the lack of your favorite outdoor
exercise. Isn’t ‘hitching’ your favorite exercise, dearie? Well, do you
see that? That’s a tipped-over sleigh. A brain-storm is better than
an early and ignominious death encountered while ‘hitching,’ Lucile.
But you’re going to do something very silly during the brain-storm.”
Madeline frowned portentously over the grounds in Lucile’s cup. “I
think I see Prexy--yes, the venerable Prexy himself is in here. You’ll
be called up before the powers, Lucile, to answer for your foolishness,
so beware.”
Lucile smiled her subtle, far-away smile--it was first cousin to Mary
Brooks’s “beamish” one. “That will at least be exciting,” she said.
“Fluffy Dutton, what do you say to a race to see which of us can break
the most of their old rules at one go?”
Fluffy shook her curly head vigorously. “I’ve been up before the powers
once, thank you, for too many lights after ten and cutting Greek prose
and being back late after Christmas. I don’t care for it at all. If
he’d glare and storm it wouldn’t be so bad, but when he appeals to
your better judgment----” Fluffy shrugged expressively. “He treats you
like an equal, and looks at you hard and shakes hands so nicely when
he’s finished you up. And then you go off feeling like a marked-down
bargain-lot of last night’s faded violets. No, thank you, Lucile. I’ll
race you anywhere you like except to interviews with Prexy.”
“Good for you, Fluffy.” Georgia patted her on the back approvingly. “I
didn’t think you had so much sense.”
“Lucile has just as much, only she’s trying to deceive us about it,”
put in Betty, who had come over to hear the fortunes.
And then Madeline discovered a tall, light-haired suitor in Polly’s
cup, and being accused of inventing him pointed him out to the
satisfaction of the assembled company. And when Polly vehemently denied
knowing a single light-haired man, she predicted a speedy meeting, a
box of chocolates, an adventure by water, and a summer together by more
water.
“Prom. man, of course,” explained Georgia easily, “invited for you
by Lucile-of-the-vast-masculine-acquaintance, after your own man
has decided to break his arm. Really, girls, there ought to be a
rule against proms., because of the broken bones they produce. Well,
Lucile’s friend will take you out on Paradise, thinking he can paddle,
and upset you. And then he’ll spend the summer at Squirrel Island,
where you always go. That’s easy. Madeline, just tell me if there’s a
suitor in my cup, please. That’s all I care about. Your presents and
trips abroad don’t interest me a bit.”
Betty had quite forgotten this conversation when, a week or so later,
Polly Eastman appeared one morning at the Tally-ho.
“Don’t you want to rent your loft for a little party?” she demanded.
“It’s bigger than the down-town hall, and it will be so nice to sit
down here between times. We want extra-good eats too, so you’ll get
very wealthy out of us.”
“What in the world do you want to give a girl-dance for?” demanded
Betty. “By junior year we were all pretty tired of them, except Helen
Chase Adams, who never had a chance to go to any other kind. This is a
girl-affair, of course?”
Polly was busily examining the depleted gift-shop table. “I always
meant to buy a pair of these candle-shades,” she said, holding up one
of the Tally-ho’s specials. “Will you take the order now? Did you
ask who was giving the affair, Betty? Oh, just our own crowd--the
‘Why-Get-Up-to-Breakfast Club,’ and a few choice spirits who’ve been
invited to join us. Eats for thirty, I think Lucile said; and we want
them very grand and quite regardless of expense. About three courses,
and all nice and spicy, the way campus food never is.”
“I think it’s such a funny idea,” pursued Betty. “Your house party
comes before long, doesn’t it? Why in the world don’t you wait for
that?”
“Nothing but lemonade for refreshments and a crowd of stupidities that
you can’t get away from,” explained Polly succinctly. “Will it be all
right about the loft, Betty? I’m due at chemistry lab., and I promised
the others that I’d have this business all arranged by lunch-time.”
“Why, ye-es,” began Betty doubtfully. “You can have it, I think.
The gift-shop workroom may as well be closed until next fall, and
Madeline’s papers are used to being moved around. I suppose a little
dance like this is just like a party in a campus room. You don’t have
to get permission from anyone, do you?”
“Easily not,” Polly assured her calmly. “It’s exactly the same thing as
a dinner down here, or a spread. You’ve had spreads down here, haven’t
you?”
Betty nodded.
“Then I’ll tell them it’s all right.” Polly tucked her armful of books
more securely under her arm and started off. “Did I say that it was
next Saturday evening? We want the eats at half-past nine, before
everything but the last dance.”
Betty began planning the menu and estimating expenses at once,
reflecting as she did so that there was certainly no accounting for
tastes, and half wishing she had suggested to Polly that a three course
supper wasn’t at all in keeping with the best Harding traditions.
“The Merry Hearts” had not exactly handed down their ideals to the
“Why-Get-Ups,” but the one society had largely taken the other’s place
in the life of the college.
“This kind of thing makes people talk about the fashionable amusements
here and the money it costs to go through Harding College. I wish
I’d----” Betty remembered suddenly that her first duty was to the
tea-shop, and went at her figures in earnest, trying to feel properly
elated over the big order and the new source of revenue suggested by
Polly’s idea of renting the loft.
It was Wednesday of the next week, and oddly enough not one of the
“Why-Get-Ups” had been in for breakfast, lunch, or tea. They were
saving up for their spread-eagle party, Betty thought, until the
high-pitched chatter of two Belden House freshmen explained the
“Why-Get-Ups’” unusual party, and suggested several other possible
reasons why they stayed away from the Tally-ho.
“I’m just broken hearted,” one freshman declared in her shrill treble.
“You see when I asked Marie to our house-party, she promised to come
if she could have a dance with Lucile Merrifield. And now Lucile isn’t
coming. I thought girls always went to their house-parties.”
“Goodness, no, dear,” the other told her importantly. “That is, they
always have before, but you can trust this crowd to be different.
Haven’t you heard anything about the fuss?”
The shrill-voiced freshman shook her head sadly.
“Well, of course it’s a dead secret,” the other went on, “but my
roommate is an intimate friend of Miss Eastman’s. They asked her to
join them, but she decided not to. She told me because she was just
dying to talk it over with somebody. That was away back last week. It’s
leaked out more now, so I’m sure there’s no harm in my telling you. Of
course everybody will know Saturday night when they don’t appear.”
“Do go on,” begged the other.
At this point Betty, who scorned eavesdropping, made an errand to the
kitchen. As early as possible that evening she went up to the Belden.
Polly’s room was dark, but Betty found the “Why-Get-Ups” gathered
in full force in Georgia’s corner single. Their greetings were
constrained, and they plunged at once into a lively discussion of the
last number of the “Argus,” which had come out that afternoon.
But Betty refused to delay. “I’ve come on business,” she announced. “I
want to know if your house dance is this Saturday?”
“Why, yes, I believe it is,” Polly admitted casually, after a nudge
from Lucille, “but we’re not going. I told you we were sick of weak
lemonade and stupid partners. Have you planned our three courses?”
Betty turned upon Georgia. “Why are you all cutting your own house
dance?” she demanded.
Georgia grinned sociably. “Bored,” she explained briefly. “Dying for
excitement. Pining for novelty. Ask Madeline: she understands the
feeling.”
“But she wouldn’t do this kind of thing,” protested Betty. “It’s so
conspicuous. You needn’t have filled out your cards,--Madeline never
would,--but you ought to go. And you certainly ought not to have an
affair of your own that night.”
“Oh, tell her all about it,” put in Fluffy Dutton. “I never thought it
was fair not to. She isn’t a faculty, but she’s a public institution.
She ought to go into this with her eyes open. Besides when she’s heard
the whole story, I’m sure she’ll stand for us. Mrs. Hinsdale couldn’t,
of course. I only hope that prep. school-teacher Alice is going to ask
for chaperon won’t be too curious or too conscientious. Fire away,
Lucile.”
“Well----” Lucile paused. When you came to tell it to an outsider there
wasn’t so much of a case as there had seemed to be when they discussed
it hotly among their injured selves. “Well,” repeated Lucile, “to begin
with, we’d all asked men, except Georgia, and she’d asked a prep. girl.
And then Dickie Garrison--she’s house president--went and made rules
against them. At least there had always been a rule against men, but
everybody smuggled them in just the same and danced with them too, up
in the gallery. But Dickie said to cut it out. We wouldn’t have cared,
only we were sure she knew about our men and had cooked up this plot at
the last minute just to spite us. We aren’t very popular with Dickie.”
“And then they ruled out asking prep. girls,” put in Georgia.
“And finally Dickie came to me,” Fluffy took up the tale of woe, “and
said what would I think of the next house-meeting’s taking up the
matter of lights after ten. That was just insulting--to say to me.”
“So then we decided to--to revolt,” ended the silent, straight-haired
Dutton twin. “There’s no rule against giving an off-campus party, with
men invited. Nobody ever had one before that we know of, because nobody
ever thought of it. So we’ve just kept dark to avoid possible fusses.”
“And if we can only get the chaperon business settled, it’s all right,”
added Lucile. “Isn’t it now, Betty? We’ve asked six Hilton House
juniors to come too, and I’ve invited a lot of extra men.”
“Including a light-haired one for me,” explained Polly gaily,
“according to the prophecy of the seeress Madeline.”
There was a strained little silence.
“Of course,” said Betty bravely at last, “you don’t remember when the
prom. began. It was in my sister Nan’s senior year, and I’ve heard her
tell how it was started on purpose to give the girls one good chance
to have their men friends up all at once and avoid just this kind of
thing. It was against the rules then to----”
“It’s not now,” declared Lucile hotly.
“Then why didn’t you ask one of the faculty to chaperon you?” Betty
asked in a queer, frightened voice, for she hated to interfere or to
seem priggish.
“Why indeed?” Georgia echoed. “Just what Mary Brooks Hinsdale asked us.
She said she guessed it was all right, but a faculty’s wife couldn’t do
anything reckless.”
“If you don’t want us, Betty, we can take the down-town hall,” Lucile
explained coldly. “Only we depend on your sense of honor not to give us
away.”
“Don’t be cross, Lucile,” commented the straight-haired twin. “Betty’s
not that sort.”
Betty smiled a thank you, and rose to go. “I don’t know what to say
to-night about the loft,” she said, “but I’ll let you know the first
thing in the morning.”
Directly after chapel next day the straight-haired twin appeared,
frankly apologetic. “The prep, teacher turned us down too,” she said,
“and Georgia plucked up courage to ask the new math. assistant, and she
turned us down. We don’t know any town women. We wish--Fluffy and I do
anyway--that we had told our men about the new rule and asked girls
instead. This sort of thing is too much like work.”
Betty considered an instant. She had intended to consult Madeline, but
Madeline had overslept that morning. “Tell the girls that if they’ll
put it off till next Saturday they may have it here, and that I’ll find
a chaperon myself.”
“You angel!” cried the twin. “Lucile won’t like it because it won’t
spite Dickie, so particularly, if you don’t have it the night of the
Belden House affair, but the rest will jump at your magnificent offer.
Betty, will you come to the regular house dance with me?”
As soon as she had received official notice that her proposal was
accepted Betty went straight to Miss Ferris and explained the whole
thing, as she understood it, from Georgia’s candid statement of motives
to the Dutton twins’ admission of regret.
“But Lucile and Polly are so proud,” she added. “If they had to give it
all up now they’d only go ahead and think up something sillier to do.
So I thought if you’d chaperon it, and they promised not to boast of
it---- They’re all going to the house dance now, except maybe Lucile,
and most of the few girls who know about their first plan will think
it’s given up. So it will create a lot less talk and excitement than
if I’d made them find another place, and they’d telegraphed for one
of their mothers and had their party this week Saturday, in spite of
everything, as they first planned.”
Miss Ferris smiled at her. “That sounds like good logic. I’ll come; but
suppose we don’t tell them who the chaperon is to be until they come to
their dance.”
To arrive at what one has supposed to be a secret and forbidden
entertainment and to find the head of the philosophy department waiting
smilingly to receive you and your friends--well, it makes you feel at
once foolish and relieved. The “Why-Get-Up” party was an undoubted
success, but Georgia Ames told Miss Ferris that they were all ashamed
of it.
“Because when you mean to be mean, why, it’s not your fault if Betty
switches you off the track. Of course we all knew that we weren’t up
here to be giving man-dances. We’ll stand by you, Miss Ferris, any way
we can.”
The “Why-Get-Up-to-Breakfast Club” stood by Georgia’s promise. It paid
to humor their little whim, if only because Fluffy Dutton’s light was
out at ten for the rest of the year, and Lucile Merrifield’s chapel
attendance was perfect. As for the Tally-ho Tea-Shop, it had never
seemed like the other places of its kind in town, but now more than
ever its unofficial connection with the college was noted and commented
upon.
“Isn’t there anything that girl can teach?” the president asked, when
he heard about the “Why-Get-Up” party. “We’ll have to find something to
keep her here indefinitely. She knows how to make things run.”
But all Betty cared about was that the “Why-Get-Ups” were one and all
on the same friendly and easy-going footing with her as ever.