The Girls of Central High: or, Rivals for All Honors

CHAPTER IX – “THE DAY OF THE TOUCH”

The girls of Central High took hold of the regular physical exercises with renewed eagerness these days. Although this work had always been popular with the few, now the many began to show unwonted interest. There was “fun” in prospect.

Mrs. Case was a fine physical instructor – the best, indeed, in Centerport. In the beginning she had had to meet much opposition in her work. Dr. Agnew, of the Board of Health, had been her efficient aid in making parents see that the innovation of physical exercises in the school work was a good thing. Now the majority of the girls’ parents admitted the advisability and value of gymnasium training. But some missionary work was still to be done in the homes regarding the suggested “after-hour” athletics for girls.

A healthy interest in the sports allowed by the Girls’ Branch would aid in keeping the girls themselves from a more questionable use of their spare time. It was much more healthful and much more wise for them to take part in sports and exercises calculated to build up muscle and mind, than to parade the streets in couples, or cliques, or to attend picture shows, or to idle their time through the big stores in emulation of the adult “shopping-fiend.”

As boys are made more manly by physical exercise and sports, so girls can be made more womanly by them. A healthy girlhood is the finest preparation obtainable for the higher duties of life. As Dr. Agnew, Nellie’s father, was fond of saying: “I don’t care how much of a bookworm a girl is, if she swings a pair of two and a half-pound Indian clubs, she’ll come out all right!”

The report of the organization committee was adopted at an enthusiastic meeting on the following Saturday. Mrs. Case promised that money for equipment of at least one basket-ball court, better swimming facilities, and the preparation of a field for track athletics would be supplied.

The Board of Education would do some of this work. A field on the edge of Lake Luna – right behind the school’s swimming pool, and adjoining Colonel Swayne’s estate – had been obtained and in a few weeks track athletics could be practised there. A fence was to be built to screen the girls from too much publicity, and the paths for running laid out. Tennis courts might be established here, too, if the money held out.

In the basement of the Central High building was a well equipped gymnasium, open to the girls and boys on alternate days. But not many games of skill could be played there. For one thing, the ceiling was not high enough. And the girls – many of them – were eager to learn basket-ball, captain’s ball, tennis, and other vigorous sports approved by the Girls’ Branch Association.

It was approaching that important day in the school year at Central High when the M. O. R.’s “touched” those girls selected for membership. That certain Friday afternoon was looked forward to by most of the sophs and juniors with much anxiety. The freshmen had no part in it. The faculty did not allow the freshmen to belong to the secret society; but it was something for the sophs and juniors particularly to strive for.

Some of the girls passed through the entire four years’ course without being chosen for membership in the M. O. R.’s. But a girl who was popular in her class, stood well in her studies, was approved by the teachers for her deportment, and displayed wit and skill in anything at all, was quite sure of being chosen in either her third or fourth year; but few sophomores were “called.” Therefore it was considered a particular honor to become an M. O. R. in the second year at the school.

This Friday afternoon, known as “the day of the touch,” all the girls of Central High gathered in the girls’ yard. The M. O. R.’s had a modest club house – an old-fashioned three-story, narrow dwelling on the same street as the school, and only a block away – and from that house the committee of nomination marched to the crowded schoolyard.

The committee consisted of four of the seniors who had longest been members of the secret society. They walked through the crowd of girls and with the little be-ribboned baton each carried touched upon the shoulder the girls selected for initiation.

Girls thus indicated were supposed to go home at once and wait for the committee to call for them that evening. Then they would be introduced to the club; but the initiation would come later. There was always something of a novel nature connected with the yearly initiation of candidates.

It was both an honor and a social privilege to be “touched” for the M. O. R.’s. Both Laura Belding and Josephine Morse desired greatly to be among the favored few of the sophomores to gain this boon. But nobody could prophesy which girls would be chosen.

Of course, the freshmen remained to “see the fun” and swell the crowd. And such girls as Bobby Hargrew hung about for the same reason, for there was no more chance of Bobby’s obtaining the honor of a “touch” than that she should go sailing around the moon!

As for Laura and her chum, however, their hearts beat high. They hoped.

And when Celia Prime came toward them with her baton the chums almost held their breaths. You could not tell by Celia’s face whom she intended to touch. She weaved in and out among the girls, many of whom were silent and watchful, others chattering away like magpies. But there was little “fooling” and “carrying-on,” although Laura saw that Bobby Hargrew was following Celia very closely and that the perfect gravity of the mischief-maker’s countenance was sufficient to warn all who knew her well that there was “something up.”

The next moment Laura was startled to feel a touch upon her shoulder – right in the spot where she had been told the baton was always placed. She turned swiftly. Mary O’Rourke had gone past. It was she who had touched Laura instead of Miss Prime.

“Oh, Laura!” whispered Jess in her ear. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” demanded Laura.

“The touch. Celia gave it to me. And you?”

“Miss O’Rourke, I believe,” whispered Laura, just as eagerly. “Come on! let’s go home.”

“Goody! Oh, I’m so glad!” gasped Jess.

As they went out of the school premises they saw Hester Grimes hurrying out of the other gateway.

“Do you suppose she is chosen, too?” asked Jess, doubtfully.

“I don’t know. I saw Celia going toward her. Ah! there’s Bobby Hargrew right behind Hester. What’s that she’s got in her hand – a stick?”

“Hey, Bobby!” shouted Jess.

But Bobby, giving her chums one glance, began to laugh silently, pointing at the unconscious Hester’s back, and then ran away, giggling.

“Now, what do you suppose that means?” demanded Jess.

“I really do not know. But Bobby is up to something. I wish she wouldn’t act so,” said Laura, with a sigh.

CHAPTER X – THE JOKE ON HESTER

After all, Centerport was just a big, inland town. It was no metropolis. Especially was the neighborhood of Central High mostly of that comfortable residential quality that is the charm of most old towns. Central High was the new school, East and West Highs being both smaller and much older buildings.

This middle of the city was called “on the hill” and was really much higher than the surrounding flatland where the business section of the city had originally been built. Two railroads ran into the town and its water freighting was considerable.

At the westerly end of beautiful Luna Lake Rocky River flowed into it at Lumberport, another thriving city; at the easterly end of the lake the waters flowed out through Rolling River at Keyport. These smaller cities each supported a good High School, and the rivalry in boys’ sports among the five schools of this district had always been keen.

Now it was proposed that the girls should strive for the honor of the schools and it was reported from Lumberport and Keyport that the Girls’ Branches had been organized in the high schools of those towns with great enthusiasm. Centerport’s East and West schools were slower to respond. Central High usually led the way in most innovations.

The knoll on which Central High and the surrounding residences stood sloped easily toward the shore of the lake. Along the lake shore, although it was in the very heart of the city, lay several fine estates. The city was slowly condemning some of these and turning them into public parks and playgrounds. Here the three high schools had their bathing pavilions, and it was also at this point that Central High had been fortunate in obtaining the field to be devoted to the girls’ athletics.

This was a convenient location for all the scholars attending Central High, a breezy piece of ground with a splendid outlook over the lake and to Cavern Island, in its center. Cavern Island was an immensely popular picnic ground, and in the summer season excursion boats that plied the lake made landings at it. But a portion of the island was wild and woody enough to please the most romantic.

Whiffle Street was shaded with great elm trees. Indeed, all that vicinity of Central High was shady and quiet. Almost all the houses on the street had lawns and well-kept gardens. Henry Grimes’s house – much more ornate and imposing than the Beldings’ home – stood three or four blocks along the street from where Laura and Chet lived.

The nominating committee of the M. O. R.’s appeared in Whiffle Street just about dusk. They had already gathered most of the girls selected for initiation, and quite a column of laughing young people walked, two by two, behind their four sponsors.

They brought forth Josephine Morse from her mother’s little cottage at the end of the street – “the poverty end” Jess always called it – and then approached the Belding house. Laura was on the porch, eager enough; she had noticed ere they arrived, however, an unaccountable gathering of freshmen and other girls farther along the street – toward the Grimes house. Bobby was with that crowd, and much laughter came from it.

“I wonder what those children can be up to?” wondered Laura.

But when the head of the procession of candidates for M. O. R. honors appeared, Laura forgot the freshies and Bobby and ran down the walk to join the older girls; Miss Prime had beckoned to her.

“Fall in line, Miss Belding,” commanded the senior, and Laura did so.

The procession continued along the street, followed by the laughing comments of the adults who leaned upon the gates, or sat on the porches of the houses it passed. At the Grimes’s gate the crowd of freshmen opened solemnly to let the older girls through.

Upon the Grimes’s porch stood Hester and Lily. Indeed, Hester ran down the steps when the head of the M. O. R. candidates reached the gate. But the procession kept right on. Neither Miss Prime, nor Mary O’Rourke, or the other two seniors looked Miss Grimes’s way.

“Why, I thought you said you were touched, Hessie?” cried Lily, in her high drawl.

There was immense giggling on the part of the freshmen crew outside the gate. But Bobby hushed it by a sharp:

“Attention!”

Silence followed among the crew. Bobby stepped forward, drew a baton be-ribboned like those carried by the nominating committee of the M. O. R. She raised it on high. It was noticeable that most of her companions had bits of paper in their hands; from these papers they proceeded to chant the following:

 
“Where Bedelia wore her necklace
Where the cow had tonsilitis
Where the chicken got the hatchet
Where the graceful swan’s delight is
“Oh!
 
 
“Where the fat man’s collar pinches
Where the hangman ties the noose
Where the lady wears the boa
Where the farmer grabs the goose
“Oh! Oh!
 
 
“Where Napoleon received it
When he fought at Waterloo,
In that very same location
Little Hester got it, too!
“Oh! Oh! Oh-ho-ho!”
 

The procession of candidates passed on; but they heard, and the whole street heard! And for fear anybody should fail to understand the trick that had been played upon the unfortunate daughter of the wholesale butcher, Bobby cried:

“Notice my baton? Don’t you want to be ‘touched’ with it, too, Lily? Oh, my!”

Hester could not even speak. She ran into the house to escape the laughter. Never had Bobby Hargrew played so cruel a joke. But she had been stung pretty hard by the false testimony Hester had given against her anent the fire at the school; and for once Bobby had not been above “getting square.”

But had the girl known what would result from this practical joke of hers – had she for a moment suspected how one of her very best friends would be caused to suffer for her sin, honest Bobby would have gone to Hester Grimes there and then and most humbly begged her pardon.

CHAPTER XI – THE MAN ON THE SPIRE

Walking was included in the athletics approved by the Girls’ Branch and the girls of Central High did not have to wait for the athletic field to be put into condition before they took part in this most accessible and perhaps wisest of all physical exercises.

Many a famous athlete has kept himself in perfect training for years by little more than a straight-away walk of a few miles each day. Walking brings into play more muscles than almost any other exercise – and muscles that are of “practical” use, too. Mrs. Case had planned for eight walks during each school year for both her elementary and advanced classes. For the younger girls the longest walk was not over three miles. The advanced girls, however, after training by much walking on Saturdays, were advanced steadily from two, to three, then four, then six, then eight, and finally to a ten mile walk. Only those girls of the sophomores, juniors and seniors in the best physical condition were allowed to take these longer walks.

On the Saturday after “touching day” of the M. O. R. came the first of the two mile walks to be carried out that season. The girls gathered at the schoolhouse at two o’clock and Mrs. Case looked them over carefully.

“Miss Morse, I cannot approve of those shoes. I have told you before that any girl is foolish to wear high heels and attempt to keep up any pace in walking,” was the athletic instructor’s comment.

“But, Mrs. Case! these are only Cuban heels,” cried poor Jess.

“That makes no difference. Some girls might be able to wear that heel with comfort. Not you, Miss Morse. Your instep is not high enough. You are cramping your foot. First thing you know your arches will begin to fall. Then you will know what suffering is, young lady. It is bad shoeing that makes so many people suffer from ‘flatfoot.’ Haven’t you a pair of comfortable shoes in your locker?”

“Yes, ma’am,” admitted the girl who followed the fashions so assiduously.

“And what’s that on your face, Miss?”

“P – p – powder!” stammered Jess, while some of the other girls giggled.

“Well, powder on one’s face may be all right if one has a greasy, coarse skin. But I did not think your complexion was of that nature. Take a little of it off, please. We don’t wish to attract any more attention than possible going through the street. Next thing, I suppose, some of you girls will begin to use rouge – pah!”

Some of the other girls rubbed their own cheeks and noses on the sly. And some smiled knowingly at Lily Pendleton. Lily’s face to-day was almost as highly colored as that of her chum, Hester. But Hester’s complexion was naturally red and coarse, whereas ordinarily Lily had no more color than the flower for which she was named.

Mrs. Case chanced to overlook Miss Pendleton’s rosy cheeks, however, and they filed out of the school house, Mrs. Case walking with the last girl.

Laura and Jess were ahead, for they knew the route selected. There was no attempt in any of these walks to make fast time; nor did the instructor allow them to stroll. The idea was to go at a comfortable, straight-away pace, and to rest when tired. The pace was that at which the least active girl could walk comfortably.

At the resting points Mrs. Case usually gave little lectures upon the exercise, or discussed questions of athletics, or informed the girls upon historical points or public buildings which they passed. This day the route lay down the hill, across Market Street, and out through the east end of the city.

At the corner of Rowan Street they passed a big open lot where boys were flying kites. There was a brisk wind and one youngster was just putting into the air a kite which the girls watched for a few moments. But there was something much more interesting going on a couple of blocks beyond.

There had been a heavy thunderstorm during the week and lightning had damaged the steeple of St. Cecelia’s Episcopal Church a few feet below the apex. How much damage had been done the masonry could not easily be learned without making a close examination and the fire insurance adjuster had sent a professional steeple climber to make it.

Quite a crowd had gathered in the square to watch the work of this expert, and as the girls came up the steeple-jack had just passed out at the belfry at the foot of the spire. Two men came with him to set up and hold a ladder which reached some distance up the steeple.

The man mounted this ladder very quickly. At the top he passed a rope around his body and around the steeple, and then began to work upward. It looked like a very dangerous feat, and the girls were all interested in it. He mounted steadily and soon reached the place where the lightning had struck. Here his progress ceased and he seemed to be trying to adjust the rope.

“He’s stuck!” exclaimed Jess. “Don’t you see?”

“Oh, I guess not,” returned Laura.

But seconds grew into minutes, minutes slipped away, and still he seemed unable to move, and the anxious spectators below became more and more apprehensive.

Finally from his giddy height the man was seen to pause and wave his hand, as if signalling to the men at the foot of the ladder. But they were sixty feet below him and it was evident that they did not hear his words at first. Finally they seemed to understand, and one of them came down inside the belfry and joined a group of men in the porch of the church.

The girls had crossed over to the porch and could hear all that was said.

“I told you he was stuck,” said Jess, excitedly.

And it was a fact. They learned that the steeple-jack’s rope had caught in a crevice where the lightning bolt had forced the stones apart, and he was unable to move up or down. His signal was for help, but the men did not know what to do. Many schemes were hastily suggested; but nobody could climb the steeple to aid him, and how to get another rope up to him was a problem that nobody seemed able to solve.

The man was in a serious predicament. One of the onlookers – a tall old man with a flowing white beard, became much excited.

“That’s Colonel Swayne,” whispered Hester Grimes. “He is one of the church wardens.”

“We must aid the man. He cannot stay in that position long,” declared Col. Swayne. “He’ll fall out of that sling. Come!” he added, addressing the crowd in the square. “I’ll give ten dollars to anybody who will suggest a practical method of getting the man down.”

The girls were so interested that the walking exercise was forgotten for the time being. They gathered around Mrs. Case, and some of them began to cry.

“The man will fall! He’ll be killed!” was the general opinion.

But Laura had separated from the other girls and in a moment was running across the square. Nobody noticed her departure. She disappeared around the corner and in ten minutes returned with two or three boys in tow. One of the boys carried an immense kite.

“Colonel Swayne!” cried Laura, from the outskirts of the crowd, “if you will let us try, I believe we can get a line to that man on the steeple.”

“What’s that, young lady?” demanded the old gentleman, quickly.

“You will pay the boys for their kite if it is lost, won’t you?” the girl asked.

“Of course we will!” exclaimed the warden. “I see your scheme. You’re a smart girl. Can you get that kite up here in the square, boys?”

The boys said they would try. But it was Laura who advised them upon the direction of the wind, and how to raise the kite properly. She had flown kites with Chet more than once.

They tested the wind, selected the point from which to fly the kite, and the increasing crowd of spectators watched with breathless interest. Slowly the kite left the ground and rose above the treetops. The wind was steady and it rose faster and faster as they paid out the line. Finally the kite was above the steeple.

The steeple-jack understood what they were attempting, and waved his hand to them. The kite-string was manipulated so as to bring it within the man’s reach. He grasped it, and a cheer went up from the crowd.

But there was more to follow. Laura had sent one of the boys to a store for a hundred yards of clothes line. This was attached by one end to the kite string, and the man on the steeple cut the kite loose and drew up the clothes line.

When he held the heavier line a piece of stronger rope was attached to the clothes line and that was raised, too. Down fell the coil of clothes line, and they saw the steeple-jack rig himself a new sling, by which he soon descended to the ladder, and by the ladder to the church roof and safety.

The crowd cheered when this was accomplished, and Colonel Swayne broke through the throng about Laura.

“You are certainly a quick-witted girl,” he said, shaking her by the hand. “You are her teacher, are you?” he added to Mrs. Case. “Humph! from Central High, are you? Well, if all your young ladies are as quick-witted as she it must be a pleasure to teach them.”

He placed a ten dollar gold piece in Laura’s hand, and Laura whispered to Mrs. Case that she wanted to get away quickly from the spot.

“Those other men are coming, too,” she whispered. “Let’s go before they all want to shake hands. Do, do come away, Mrs. Case!”

The athletic instructor laughed and nodded, and Laura and Jess took up the line of march again. But when they were well away from the crowd, Jess began to laugh.

“Who says we can’t get money from Colonel Swayne for our Athletic Association?” she cried. “What a smart girl you are, Laura!”

“I’m going to give this ten dollars into the treasury. And it won’t be the last money I get from Colonel Swayne for the same object – now you see!”