CHAPTER V.
THE KENTUCKY SPREAD.
"Molly, you look a little worried," observed Nance Oldham, two daysbefore the famous spread was to take place, it having been set forFriday evening.
Molly was seated on her bed, in the midst of a conglomerate mass ofbooks and clothes, chewing the end of a pencil while she knitted herbrows over a list of names.
"Not exactly worried," she replied. "But, you know, Nance, giving aparty is exactly like some kind of strong stimulant with me. It goesto my head, and I seem to get intoxicated on invitations. Once I getstarted to inviting, I can't seem to stop."
"Molly Brown," put in Nance severely, "I believe you've just aboutinvited the whole of Wellington College to come here Friday night. Andbecause you are already such a famous person, everybody has accepted."
"I think I can about remember how many I asked," she replied penitently."There are all the girls in the house, of course."
"Frances Andrews?"
Molly nodded.
"And all the girls who were at Miss Stewart's the other night."
"What, even that girl who makes catty speeches. That black-eyed Blountperson?"
"Yes, even so," continued Molly sadly. "I really hadn't intended to askher, Nance, but I do love to heap coals of fire on people's heads, andbesides, I just told you, when I get started, I can't seem to stop. WhenI was younger, I've been known to bring home as many as six strangelittle girls to dinner at once."
"The next time you give a party," put in Nance, "we'd better make outthe list beforehand, and then you must give me your word of honor not toadd one name to it."
"I'll try to," replied Molly with contrition, "but it's awfully hard totake the pledge when it comes to asking people to meals, even spreads."
The two girls examined the list together, and Molly racked her brains totry and remember any left-outs, as she called them.
"I'm certain that's all," she said at last. "That makes twenty, doesn'tit? Oh, Nance, I tremble for the old ham and the hickory nut cake. Doyou think they'll go round? Aunty, she's my godmother, is sending meanother box of beaten biscuits. She has promised to keep me supplied.You know, I have never eaten cold light bread in my life at breakfast,and I'd just as soon choke down cold potatoes as the soggy bread theygive us here. But beaten biscuit and ham and home-made pickles won't beenough, even with hickory nut cake," she continued doubtfully.
"I have a chafing dish. We can make fudge; then there's tea, you know.We can borrow cups and saucers from the others. But we'll have to dosomething else for their amusement besides feed them. Have you thoughtof anything?"
"Lillie and Millie," these were two sophomores at Queen's, "have a stuntthey have promised to give. It's to be a surprise. And Jennie Wren haspromised to bring her guitar and oblige us with a few selections, but,oh, Nance, except for the eatin', I'm afraid it won't be near such afine party as Mary Stewart's was."
"Eatin's the main thing, child. Don't let that worry you," replied Nanceconsolingly. "I think I have an idea of something which would interestthe company, but I'm not going to tell even you what it is."
Nance had a provoking way of keeping choice secrets and then springingthem when she was entirely ready, and wild horses could not drag themout of her before that propitious moment.
On Friday evening the girls began to arrive early, for, as has beensaid, Molly was already an object of interest at Wellington College, andthe fame of her beaten biscuits and old ham had spread abroad. Some ofthe guests, like Mary Stewart, came because they were greatly attractedtoward the young freshman; and others, like Judith Blount, felt only anamused curiosity in accepting the invitation. As a general thing, Judithwas a very exclusive person, but she felt she could safely show her facewhere Mary Stewart was.
"This looks pretty fine to me," observed that nice, unaffected youngwoman herself, shaking hands with Molly and Nance.
"It's good of you to say so," replied Molly. "Your premises would maketwo of our's, I'm thinking."
"But, look at your grand buffet. How clever of you! One of you twochildren must have a genius for arrangement."
The study tables had been placed at one end of the room close together,their crudities covered with a white cloth borrowed from Mrs. Murphy,and on these were piled the viands in a manner to give the illusion ofgreat profusion and plenty.
"It's Molly," laughed Nance; "she's a natural entertainer."
"Not at all," put in Molly. "I come of a family of cooks."
"And did your cook relatives marry butlers?" asked Judith.
Molly stifled a laugh. Somehow Judith couldn't say things like othergirls. There was always a tinge of spite in her speeches.
"Where I come from," she said gravely, "the cooks and butlers arecolored people, and the old ones are almost like relatives, they are soloyal and devoted. But there are not many of those left now."
The room was gradually filling, and presently every guest had arrived,except Frances Andrews.
"We won't wait for her," said Molly to Lillie and Millie, the twoinseparable sophomores, who now quietly slipped out. Presently, Nance,major domo for the evening, shoved all the guests back onto the divansand into the corners until a circle was formed in the centre of theroom. She then hung a placard on the knob of the door which read:
MAHOMET, THE COCK OF THE EAST,
_vs._
CHANTECLER, THE COCK OF THE WEST.
There was a sound of giggling and scuffling, the door opened and twoenormous, man-sized cocks entered the room. Both fowls had white bodiesmade by putting the feet through the sleeves of a nightgown, which wasdrawn up around the neck and over the arms, the fullness gathered intothe back and tied into a rakish tail. A Persian kimono was draped overMahomet to represent wings and a tightly fitting white cap with a pointover the forehead covered his head. His face was powdered to a ghastlypallor with talcum and his mouth had been painted with red finger-nailsalve into a cruel red slash across his countenance. Chantecler was ofa more engaging countenance. A small red felt bedroom slipper formed hiscomb and a red silk handkerchief covered his back hair. The two cockscrowed and flapped their wings and the fight began, amid much laughterand cheering. Twice Chantecler was almost spurred to death, but it wasMahomet's lot to die that evening, and presently he expired with aterrible groan, while the Cock of the West placed his foot on Mahomet'schest and crowed a mighty crow, for the West had conquered the East.
That was really the great stunt of the evening, and it occupied a gooddeal of time. Molly began carving the ham, which she had refused to doearlier, because a ham, properly served, should appear first in all itssplendid shapely wholeness before being sliced into nothingness.Therefore she now proceeded to cut off thin portions, which crumbledinto bits under the edge of the carving knife borrowed from Mrs. Murphy.But the young hostess composedly heaped it upon the plates with pickleand biscuit, and it was eaten so quickly that she had scarcely finishedthe last serving before the plates were back again for a secondallowance.
During the hot fudge and hickory nut cake course, the door opened and aScotch laddie, kilted and belted in the most approved manner entered theroom. His knees were bare, he wore a little Scotch cap, a black velvetjacket and a plaidie thrown over one shoulder. But the most perfect partof his get-up was his miniature bagpipe, which he blew on vigorously,and presently he paused and sang a Scotch song.
"Nance!" cried several of the Queen's Cottage girls, for it wasdifficult to recognize the quiet young girl from Vermont in this rakishdisguise.
In the midst of the uproar there was a loud knock on the door.
"Come in," called Molly, a little frightened, thinking, perhaps, thekindly matron had for once rebelled at the noise they were making.
Slowly the door opened and an old hag stepped into the room. She wasreally a terrible object, and some of the girls shrieked and fell backas she advanced toward the jolly circle. Her nose was of enormouslength, and almost rested on her chin, like a s
taff, like the nose of"The Last Leaf on the Tree." Also, she had a crooked back and leanedheavily on a stick. On her head was a high pointed witch's cap. She woreblack goggles, and had only two front teeth. The witch produced a packof cards which she dexterously shuffled with her black gloved hands.Then she sat down on the floor, beckoning to the girls to come nearer.
"Half-a-minute fortune for each one," she observed in a muffled,disguised voice, but it was a very fulsome minute, as Judy remarkedafterward, for what little she said was strictly to the point.
To Judith Blount she said:
"English literature is your weak point. Look out for danger ahead."
This seemed simple enough advice, but Judith flushed darkly, and severalof the girls exchanged glances. Molly, for some reason, recalled whatJudith had said about Professor Edwin Green.
Many of the other girls came in for knocks, but they were very skillfulones, deftly hidden under the guise of advice. To Jennie Wren the witchsaid:
"Be careful of your friends. Don't ever cultivate unprofitable people."
To Nance Oldham she said:
"You will always be very popular--if you stick to popular people."
It was all soon over. Molly's fortune had been left to the last. Thestrange witch had gone so quickly from one girl to another that they hadscarcely time to take a breath between each fortune.
"As for you," she said at last, turning to Molly, "I can only say that'kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Normanblood,' and by the end of your freshman year you will be the mostpopular girl in college."
"Who are you?" cried Molly, suddenly coming out of her dream.
"Yes, who are you?" cried Judith, breaking through the circle andseizing the witch by the arm.
With a swift movement the witch pushed her back and she fell in a heapon some girls who were still sitting on the floor.
"I will know who you are," cried Jennie Wren, with a determined note inher high voice, as she grasped the witch by the arm, and it did look fora moment as if the Kentucky spread were going to end in a free-for-allfight, when suddenly, in the midst of the scramble and cries, camethree raps on the door, and the voice of the matron called:
"Young ladies, ten o'clock. Lights out!"
The girls always declared that it was the witch who had got near thedoor and pushed the button which put out every light in the room. At anyrate, the place was in total darkness for half a minute, and when Mollyswitched the lights on again for the girls to find their wraps the witchhad disappeared.
In another instant the guests had vanished into thin air and across themoonlit campus ghostly figures could be seen flitting like shadows overthe turf toward the dormitories, for there was no time to lose. At aquarter past ten the gates into the Quadrangle would be securely locked.
Nance lit a flat, thick candle, known in the village as "burglar'sterror," and in this flickering dim light the two girls undressedhastily.
Suddenly Molly exclaimed in a whisper:
"Nance, I believe it was Frances Andrews who dressed up as that witch,and I'm going to find out, rules or no rules."
She slipped on her kimono and crept into the hall. The house was verystill, but she tapped softly on Frances' door. There was no answer, andopening the door she tiptoed into the room. A long ray of moonlight,filtering in through the muslin curtains, made the room quite light.There was a smell of lavender salts in the air, and Mollie could plainlysee Frances in her bed. A white handkerchief was tied around her head,as if she had a headache, but she seemed to be asleep.
"Frances," called Molly softly.
Frances gave a stifled sob that was half a groan and turned over on herside.
"Frances," called Molly again.
Frances opened her eyes and sat up.
"Is anything the matter?" she asked.
Molly went up to the bedside. Even in the moonlight she could see thatFrances' eyes were swollen with crying.
"I was afraid you were ill," whispered Molly. "Why didn't you come tothe spread?"
"I had a bad headache. It's better now. Good night." Molly crept off toher room.
Was it Frances, after all, who had broken up her party?
Molly was inclined to think it was not, and yet----
"At any rate, we'll give her the benefit of the doubt, Nance," shewhispered.
But there were no doubts in Nance's mind.