THE HOCKEY SHIELD
The Sixth and Fifth were holding a meeting in the former's classroom.
Madge Amhurst was in the chair--that is to say, she occupied the
mistress's dais---and the rest of the girls found seats at desks or
window-sills or on hot-water pipes. The subject under discussion
was, they considered, of great importance. Should St. Etheldreda's
compete this year for the Secondary and High Schools' Hockey Shield
or should they not? The competition was open to any schools in the
county, but till now St. Etheldreda's had not entered for it, chiefly
because they did not consider themselves capable of raising a team
good enough to justify their competing. Madge, who as usual had a
good deal to say, was stating the case in favour of entering. Madge,
of course, was one of the hockey players.
"It's like this," she was explaining. "Last year most of the Sixth
played netball and had no interest at all in the hockey, and we had
to draw chiefly on the younger girls for an eleven. It isn't much
good putting in a team of youngsters when it's a case of playing some
of the best elevens in the county. Nobody minds being beaten in a
sporting game, of course, but we didn't want to make sillies of
ourselves--expose ourselves to ridicule and all that. But this year
the school is in a very different position as regards hockey. The
present Sixth, with the exception of Pam, all play hockey and so do a
good many of the Fifth. There are also several very promising
players in the Fourth. Personally I think we could get up a team
good enough to play any other school in the county."
"What does Allison say about it?" asked Deirdre Samways, one of the
prefects.
"Allison thinks we've a very good chance. She's in favour of
entering."
"Yes, but would she play herself?" asked Glenda. "Everyone knows
Allison is far and away the best player we've got, and her presence
in the eleven would make all the difference."
"Yes, she said she would love to play, and also promised to turn out
to the practices beforehand and help in pulling the team together."
"Let us see what sort of a team we could put in the field," suggested
Irene sensibly, for as the school had not yet played any hockey
matches with outside teams this term, the membership of the new first
eleven had not been finally decided.
Madge, aided by various suggestions from the rest of the assembly,
drew up a probable team, and after a good deal of argument it was
universally agreed that the team really consisted of first-rate
material, every position being filled satisfactorily with one
exception, that of goalkeeper.
"That's the weak spot," said Madge ruefully. "Two reliable backs and
the best centre-half in the county, but not a single candidate for
goalkeeper."
"Who was goalkeeper last season?" asked Pam Preston.
"Ethel Denham, till she left. Then, as no one else would volunteer
to fill the vacancy we played three backs. That wouldn't do here."
"Who's the second eleven goalkeeper?"
"A Fourth-former, but she isn't any good except for junior games.
She hasn't much idea of clearing quickly or of stopping anything
really fast."
The girls looked at one another in perplexity till Deirdre Samways
said slowly: "I suppose Pam wouldn't consider playing in goal for the
hockey eleven? Don't you remember last year, when the netball pitch
was under water, Pam joined us in hockey practices and kicked the
ball out for us as if she'd done it all her life? She's our best
wicket-keeper too."
All eyes were turned to Pam. Here was an idea!
"If Pam could keep goal at hockey anything like she does at netball!"
exclaimed Glenda. "She is as quick as lightning."
"That's all very well," Pam interrupted. "But what about netball
matches? If they happened to clash with yours I couldn't be in two
places at once."
"Oh, bother the netball!" Madge exclaimed impatiently. "I think it
ought to be made a junior game for the smaller ones. Everyone knows
it's you Prestons who keep it going. There wouldn't be a team worth
calling a team if it weren't for you three."
Here a voice from somewhere behind was heard as a head bobbed up from
one of the back row desks. "I've joined the netball team, let me
tell you," said Monica loudly.
Nat pulled her down into her seat with a violent jerk at her skirt,
saying in a fierce whisper, "Sit down, whippersnapper! Everyone
knows you joined the netball club out of sheer contrariness, because
practically all the Fifth play hockey."
The Sixth-formers ignored this unseemly interruption as beneath their
notice. Several of them were imploring Pam to "think it over."
"Well, I won't refuse right out," said Pam reluctantly at last. "But
I won't make any promises. You must give me a day or two to
consider."
The meeting finally adjourned upon the decision to enter St.
Etheldreda's as a competitor for the shield and it was left to
Deirdre Samways, the new captain, to arrange practices with the help
of Madge, the club secretary. Madge, beaming with satisfaction,
clambered down from her high seat and was in the act of turning to
follow Deirdre out of the room when a voice murmured just behind her:
"Excuse me, but is this your handkerchief or is it the blackboard
duster?" and Madge turned hastily to behold a slight, dark-haired
girl holding out a handkerchief towards her.
"Er-thanks," she replied dryly. "Yes, it is my handkerchief and not
the other article you mentioned. I must have dropped it."
She departed with Deirdre, chuckling. "Cheeky little thing, that new
girl," she confided to Deirdre, "in spite of her childish look. I
wish our pattern Fifth joy of her."
Deirdre pinned upon the notice-board a list of the schools who had
entered for the shield, and Nat, with Monica, stopped behind to read
the list.
"That's the school at present holding the shield," remarked Nat,
pointing to one of the names. "They have won it two years in
succession and are entitled to keep it if they win it this year. I
believe they are awfully hot stuff."
"Fairhurst Priory," Monica read aloud. "Why, that's the school I was
at last term."
"Really!" said Nat, "the school you were ex--Of course, you didn't
see them play hockey," she hurriedly altered her sentence. "It was
the summer term. Oh dear, I suppose there is prep to be done. I
think I'll trot round first and see Ida about the book she's going to
lend me."
"Please, not now," said Monica. "I want you to hear me say my Dick
II first. I can always learn by heart better when I've someone to
hear me say it."
"Bother you and your wretched lessons," grumbled Nat, but
nevertheless she followed Monica into their study.
Since Monica's resolution to win the top position she had given
little trouble in class and had proved to be the most zealous of
pupils during the last fortnight. Miss Andrews, indeed, would have
forgiven her a good deal for the sake of her prowess at Latin. Some
of the girls wondered how long this enthusiasm for work would last,
and if the new girl were really as clever as she intended them to
believe--apart from her knowledge of Latin, in which she had
evidently been well grounded. Glenda Vaughan shook her head darkly
and said: "Wait and see."
Monica had not, however, kept an entirely unblemished conduct sheet,
having fallen from grace and scandalized the entire school the
previous Sunday. It happened in this way. Personal possessions were
not allowed to be left about in the common room and passages under
pain of confiscation, and it was one of Madge's prefectorial duties
to confiscate any property she found left about in these public
places after supper bell had rung. The careless owners, after a
preliminary warning, were punished by the exaction of a penny fine
from their pocket money, the fines being collected by Madge and
placed in the offertory bag at Sunday service.
The girl who had most property confiscated was allotted the task of
taking the money to church and placing it in the bag during
collection, to make the impression of her forgetfulness deeper, so to
speak. This rule had been made to check carelessness and slovenly
habits and continual complaints of lost property--though the idea of
allotting the task of placing the money in the bag to the chief
offender had long ago originated with the prefects themselves.
Sometimes several weeks would pass without a single fine, but this
particular week there seemed to have been a perfect epidemic of
forgetfulness, and Madge had collected one and twopence in penny
fines and handed the money over to Monica on Sunday morning. Monica
had dutifully carried the money to church and, on receiving the bag
from the girl next to her, had held it in her left hand while she
proceeded very deliberately to drop fourteen pennies into it, one at
a time. She was among the last to receive the collection bag, and
the hymn being a short one, the organist was very softly
extemporizing till the collection was finished. Thus the sound of
each penny falling with a musical chink into the bag was heard all
over the church. There were rustlings and scrapings, as all heads
were turned and all eyes focussed on that one particular corner of
the congregation, while the girls around had difficulty in
restraining their titters as Monica solemnly continued dropping her
pennies till the last was safely in. The sidesman at the other end
of the row gazed in a kind of mesmerized trance from which he did not
arouse himself till Prue, very red in the face, handed the weighty
bag back to him.
Until the last girl had filed out of the porch, the school continued
to be the centre of attraction to the congregation, who stared at
them with far more attention, I am sorry to say, than was given to
the retiring choir and clergy. Monica had succeeded in making St.
Etheldreda's very conspicuous that day.
Nat, who had been sitting in another row, hastened to place herself
at Monica's side when they formed up outside the church for the
return journey.
"What you want is a keeper," she said darkly. "I shall never dare
trust you away from my side after this. If I had been next to you,
you wouldn't have held the bag long enough to drop many pennies in, I
can assure you. Prinny will be wild. You'll have to face the music."
Monica made no reply, merely humming aggravatingly a line from Chu
Chin Chow, which sounded something like this:
"Chinking, clinking, clinking, chinking,
clinking on the ground.
Forty thousand pieces----"
"You'll be crying, not singing, by the time Prinny has rolled you in
the dust and sat on you," Nat warned her.
"Well, I might have done worse," replied Monica blithely. "I might
have made it halfpennies instead of pennies."
After tea the next day Monica was duly sent for by the Principal, and
returned a little later to her study. Much to Nat's relief there
were no traces of tears.
"What did she say?" she inquired. Monica seized hold of her prep
books and, dropping them on the table, sat down.
"Oh, not much after all," she replied briefly. "Now don't talk,
there's a good fellow. I want to do an extra French exercise,
besides prep."
Nat sighed. "Oh dear, I wish you wouldn't swot so much! You make me
feel so lazy," she said.