SARAH SAVES THE DAY ONCE MORE
The fall term of school is a time of adjustment, and the spring term
flies so quickly that it is hardly begun before it is over. It is
in winter that most real work is accomplished. Then, too, when the
days are short, and life out of doors does not call so insistently,
friendships quicken and school spirit grows.
Sarah felt very much better after her return from home. Laura had
sternly forbidden her to do any heavier work than drying dishes, and
looking after the twins and Albert, and she had told stories to her
heart's content, and coasted and skated until she forgot that a grammar
or a geography ever existed.
Now she worked diligently. It is safe to say that never had one
small girl learned so much in so short a time. Professor Minturn was
delighted with her progress; he regarded his theory that the sub-Junior
and the Junior History could be combined as already proved. The
Geography professor cheered her enthusiastically on. He had meant to
speak to Dr. Ellis about her transference from one class to the other,
but he had forgotten it, and Sarah proceeded undisturbed. Mr. Sattarlee
continued to have her read at sight for him in the evenings. He had
begun to be really interested in seeing how much she could do.
Class rivalry always came to a head at the annual gymnasium exhibition,
which took place just before the close of the winter term. There were
performances by individuals, elaborate swinging of clubs and heavy work
of various kinds, Gilbert dancing and intricate drills. The class which
made the best record was given a silver cup.
Hitherto the cup had always been won by the Middle or the Senior
class. Each year the enthusiastic Juniors made a frantic effort and
failed. Occasionally they excelled in individual work, but the other
classes had the advantage of longer team-work in the drills. This year
the Senior class was weak, and the Juniors would have had some hope,
had it not been that the Middlers were exceptionally strong.
By this time the glow which followed the Christmas vacation was gone,
and Sarah was once more a very tired girl. She had looked forward to
the entertainment for weeks, but now that it was at hand, she wished
with all her heart that she could go to bed instead of attending it.
The sub-Junior girls gave only an elementary wand-drill at the opening
of the exhibition. The audience was still gathering; they formed
merely the inconspicuous orchestra before the beginning of the real
performance. When the drill was over, Sarah was glad to climb the steps
to the running-track, and look down sleepily over the crowd in search
of Miss Ellingwood.
The floor of the great gymnasium was divided into two parts. One was
left bare for the exhibition; the other was covered by a steep tier of
seats occupied by the invited guests of the faculty and the faculty
themselves. The students, when they were not at work, watched from
the wide running-track which circled the gymnasium. Its railing was
gayly decked with school and class banners, and it was crowded with
close-packed groups of enthusiastic boys and girls. Far above in the
dusk, showed dimly the great beams which upheld the vaulted roof.
Presently Sarah found Miss Ellingwood, sitting almost beneath her, with
Mr. Sattarlee by her side. Then Sarah grew more and more sleepy. She
heard the girls of her own class whispering round her. Mabel and Ellen
were near by, but she did not turn her head, which rested comfortably
against one of the upright supports of the great beam.
Below on the floor the girls of the Middle class were beginning an
elaborate swinging of Indian clubs, moving in such perfect time with
the music and with one another that the difficult task seemed the
easiest in the world. Already the girls of the Junior class, who were
to follow, were quietly slipping down the stairs. Sarah saw them dimly,
Ethel and Gertrude and all the others whom she so admired, and who
paid no attention to her. The fact that she had saved their class play
seemed to make them not more but even less friendly. The tears came
into her eyes, and she brushed them angrily away. What a goose she
was! She tightened her hold a little on the upright iron, and leaned
her head against it once more. If she could only go over to the Main
Building and go to bed!
Then suddenly she awoke. It seemed to her at first that she heard the
cheering in her sleep; then it grew to a great roar all about her. The
sub-Juniors beside her were cheering, the group of boys of the Middle
class on the opposite side of the running-track were yelling madly,
and "Bobs," Edward Ellis's collie, who would not be left at home, was
barking as though he would burst his throat. Sarah made out the Middle
class yell:--
"Hip, hip, hooray,
Scarlet and gray,
We win the day!"
Then, looking up, she saw the cause of the excitement. Floating proudly
from the great central beam, far above her head, was the scarlet and
gray banner of the Middle class. The banner must have been rolled up
and fastened there by some adventurous climber, and a cord by which it
could be unfurled carried down along the supports to the opposite side
of the running-track. It was no wonder that the Middlers had insisted
upon having that particular spot. The cord had unfastened itself
properly, and the great flag was left free to float back and forth in
the slight breeze which came in round the many tall windows.
There was a wild yell from the Junior class, not of delight, but of
disgust and dismay, and "Bobs" changed his bark to a howl. The trick
was a clever one, and it did not add to the comfort of the Juniors
to realize that there was nothing to be done. The next number on the
programme was a minuet by the Junior girls. They would have to give it,
alas, under the colors of their rivals.
Edward Ellis and half a dozen others tried to push their way through
the close-packed ranks of the Middlers, but Dr. Ellis saw them and
motioned them back. Meanwhile the Middler girls went quietly on, not
losing a beat of their time. When they finished, they marched out amid
loud cheers and clapping of hands.
The sub-Juniors round Sarah were dancing up and down. Traditionally
they were the friends of the Middle class, and the Middle class itself
did not enjoy the sight of the great banner as much as they.
"Won't the Juniors be furious?" laughed Ellen Ritter. "I can just see
Ethel Davis and Gertrude Manley when they behold it. And they can't do
a thing. Good for 'em!"
And the sub-Juniors moved a little farther down the running-track,
crowding the Seniors behind them, so that they could see the faces of
the Junior girls when they caught the first glimpse of the scarlet flag.
The same flame leaped suddenly in Sarah's heart that had flared before
she pursued Jacob Kalb with a gun, and before she had poured the water
out through the transom. But this time she deliberated and laid her
plans more slowly. She owed the members of her own class no loyalty.
She looked up at the great beam far above her head. She tried to shake
the iron upright upon which her hand rested and found it as firm as the
boards beneath her feet; then she stared up again at the beam and down
at the floor far below, and her eyes brightened.
There was a Junior flag just under her hand. The Junior class would
enter in the dark, the lights were to be entirely extinguished, so
that they could slip to their places without being seen, and then the
light would come, not from the electric globes, but from a stereopticon
lantern at the end of the room, which would throw colored lights upon
the performers. Sarah knew all the arrangements. Already the gymnasium
director had risen to announce that the lights would be turned out, and
that no one should be alarmed.
Sarah glanced about once more. It was fortunate that she was just
above the entrance to the dressing-room, and in the most undesirable
place on the track. There was no one within ten feet. She put her hand
on the belt of her gymnasium suit to be sure that the buttons were all
tight and that nothing should hamper her, and then she thought of the
tall hickory tree at home, up which she had scrambled ever since she
could remember, and smiled.
The row of lights above the running-track faded and went out, and
she put her arms round the slender iron pole. Then those below were
darkened, and with a spring her rubber-soled feet were on the railing.
When she felt the great beam, she had one moment of awful fright.
What if they should suddenly turn on the lights and she be discovered
hanging in mid-air? She would not be able to keep her hold. There would
be one agonized moment, then she would drop down, down to the floor
beneath.
But the fright did not make her stop. It vanished completely when she
felt under her hands the cord which fastened the flag.
She did not attempt to untie it, there was no time for that. There
were two pins on the front of her blouse, which had fastened on the
sub-Junior badge which she had worn during her own drill. Wrapping the
Middler flag round the beam, so that it was completely hidden, she
pinned the Junior flag to its edge, and then crept slowly back. She
could see far below her the line of dim white figures crossing the
gymnasium. In another instant they would be in their places, and then
the lights would flare out.
Thankfully she felt the iron pole beneath her feet, and in wild panic
slid down, the iron burning her hands like steam. Then she stood
holding desperately to it, panting.
It was the man who managed the stereopticon who revealed the new
banner. The Junior girls in their white dresses wove back and forth
in intricate figures, now in the gleam of violet, now in the glow of
rose-color. Now they spread out from one end of the wide floor to
the other, now they were close together. Presently there was a glow
of yellow light which illuminated the whole gymnasium and rested
especially upon the high beam. The stereopticon man had no sympathy
with any particular class. He realized that the scarlet and gray flag
was an object of interest, so he trained his light upon it. Every eye
in the gymnasium was lifted at once.
Bedlam broke loose, after an instant's pause, during which faculty and
students and guests stared open-mouthed. Where was the Middler banner?
Who had dared to climb out there and remove it? And who had hung the
Junior banner there?
"Light blue and white,
We're all right!"
roared the Junior boys.
"Wow, wow, wo-o-ow," howled "Bobs."
"Bang, bang, bang," played the pianist, in a noble effort to be heard
above the din. Only the Junior girls seemed undisturbed. They wove more
intricate evolutions, deaf to the piano as they were; their powdered
heads bowed to one another, their motion seemed to grow more light and
fairy-like. Presently one of them glanced upward, then another, and
some one smiled faintly, and without another sign, they went on with
more spirit than ever.
A Middler started at once to climb the pole, but was ordered back. Then
another tried it, and was sternly reproved. The flag must hang there
now, there would be no more seasons of convenient darkness in which
it might be torn down. The Junior girls marched out, Ethel Davis and
Gertrude Manley leading, as they led most affairs in their class.
Now it was the turn of the Middler boys to take a taste of their own
medicine, and give their drill under a rival banner. They gritted their
teeth angrily. The displacement of their flag disturbed them sorely.
The cup was theirs already, they were sure of that, but the celebration
with which they meant to mark their victory was spoiled.
Anger may be a spur in a long jump or in putting the shot, but it
does not conduce to good team-work. One of the Middlers lifted his
clubs too swiftly, another too slowly, and they did not begin in good
form. And then there was the click of club against club, an evidence of
carelessness of which not even the sub-Juniors would be guilty.
A giggle spread along the line of the Juniors. The audience heard and
the Middlers themselves heard, and their faces grew hot and their
hands unsteady. There was a bang, a crash, and an Indian club flew in
a wide curve, and sailed through the glass door which opened into the
director's office. It was an unpardonable crime.
"Attention!" cried the director. "Clubs at rest, right face, march."
For the first time in the history of the school a Middle class had
failed, and the Juniors had won the cup.
Sarah had slipped to the rear of the group of her classmates. She was
desperately tired, and her hands burned like fire. If she could only
go to bed! But no one was expected to leave until the end. It seemed
to her that minutes lengthened into hours and still the entertainment
dragged on.
All round her she heard excited inquiry. What Junior had crept out on
the beam? Was it Edward Ellis?
"You didn't see a Junior go up this side, did you, Sarah?" asked Mabel
Thorn; and Sarah answered with a truthful and weary "No."
She had sat down on the edge of a springboard, she did not hear even
the loud cheering which followed the handing of the cup to the Junior
president. There was a rush for the stairs, and she was carried on
unresisting. Then she slipped aside and opened the door leading to
the lower floor. From there a narrow passageway ran between the
swimming-pool and the girls' dressing-room and thence led out of doors.
The main exit was jammed with arguing, cheering students; she could not
go out that way.
As she passed the door of the girls' dressing-room, she heard the
same excited questions shouted back and forth. Ethel and Gertrude were
laughing and talking as they struggled out of their long cheese-cloth
dresses. Suddenly one of them called to her:--
"Who are you, out there? Suppose you come in and untangle me!"
Sarah knew well enough that if they had known it was she they would not
have called her. Nevertheless, she went in and asked what she could do.
"Oh," said Gertrude, "is it you, Miss Wenner? Please unpin this down
the back."
"Yes, ma'am," answered Sarah.
She could scarcely open her hand; it felt as though there were not
a fragment of skin left on the palm, but she struggled bravely with
the stubborn pins. It seemed to her a long time until she was able to
extract the first one.
"There is one out already," she said faintly.
Ethel turned to look at her and then came a little closer.
"What's the matter? Look at me, child!" The word slipped out
involuntarily, and she corrected herself at once. "Miss Wenner, what is
the matter? Let me see your hand." And Ethel seized it and pointed to
the white dress. There was a slow-spreading, scarlet stain on it.
"No," cried Sarah. "Leave me go. It is nothing. I--I just skinned
myself a little. I--"
Ethel firmly opened her fingers. Then Gertrude looked at her other
hand. It too was bleeding.
Sarah tried to pull her hands away.
"_Ach_, it is nothing. Leave me be!"
"It looks to me--" began Ethel slowly.
"As though you had been sliding down the pole in the gym," finished
Gertrude.
"I skinned my hand there once before I learned how," said Ethel. "But
the gym hasn't been open for practice to-day, and this has just been
done. How did you do it?"
Sarah had lost all power to struggle.
"_Ach_, it is nothing!"
Gertrude gasped.
"Did you climb up that pole and put our flag on the beam?"
"Answer her, please," commanded Ethel.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Why?"
"Because--because--_Ach_, leave me go!"
The great low-ceiled locker-room was growing dim. Sarah tried to jerk
away. This time it was not embarrassment but terror which gave her
strength.
"You haven't any business to talk to me like this. I did it because I
didn't want to see you drill under that other flag. I hate that other
flag. And I hate--" Sarah took a deep breath. Her heart felt like a
hard lump in her breast. There was a red flaming light before her
eyes,--"I hate _you_!"