CHAPTER VII
"SWEETBRIARS ALL"
"Oh, dear me!" complained Nettie Parsons, "I never can do it."
"'In the bright Lexicon of Youth, there is no such word as "fail,"'"quoted Mercy Curtis, grandiloquently.
"That must be a pretty poor reference book to have in one's library,then," said Helen, making fun of the old saying which the lame girl hadrepeated. "How do we know--perhaps there are other important words leftout--_A bas le_ Lexicon of Youth!"
"Perseverence is the winning game, Nettie," Ruth said to the Southerngirl, cheerfully. "Stick to it."
"And if _then_ you can't make the sum come right, come to Aunt Ruthie and_ask_. That's what _I_ do," confessed Ann Hicks, the ranch girl.
"Perseverence wins," quoth Helen.
"Oh, it does, does it?" cried Jennie Stone, called by the girls "Heavy,"in a smothered tone, for her mouth was full of caramels. "Let me tell youthat old 'saw' is a joke. My little kid cousin proved that the other day.She came to grandfather--who is just as full of maxims and bits of wisdomas Helen seems to be to-day, and the kid said:
"'Grandpa, that's a joke about "If at first you don't succeed," isn't it?'
"And her grandfather answered, 'Certainly not. "Try, try again." That'sright.'
"'Huh!' said the kid, who is one of these Cynthia-of-the-minute'youngsters, 'you're wrong, Grandpa. I've been working for an hour blowingsoapbubbles and trying to pin them on a clothes line in the nursery todry!' Perseverence didn't cut much of a figure in her case, did it?"finished Heavy, with a chuckle.
The crowd of girls was in the big "quartette" room in the West Dormitoryof Briarwood Hall. The school had reopened only a week before, but all thefriends were hard at work. All but Ann Hicks and Nettie Parsons hoped tograduate the coming June.
In the group, besides Ruth and Helen, were their room-mates, Mercy Curtisand Ann Hicks; Jennie Stone; Mary Cox, the red-haired girl usually called"The Fox;" and Nettie Parsons, "the sugar king's daughter," as she wasknown to the school. She was the one really rich girl at Briarwood--andone of the simplest in both manner and dress.
Nettie was backward in her studies, as was Ann Hicks. Nettie was alovable, sweet-tempered girl, who had several reasons for being very fondof Ruth Fielding. Indeed, if the truth were told, not a girl in thequartette that afternoon but had some particular reason for loving Ruth.
Ruth's life at the school had been a very active one; yet she had neverthrust herself forward. Although she had been the originator of the mostpopular--now the only sorority in the school, the Sweetbriars, she hadrefused to be its president for more than one term. All the older girlswere "Sweetbriars" now.
Mercy Curtis, who had a sweet voice, now commenced to sing the marchingsong of the school, which had been adopted by the Sweetbriars and madeover into a special sorority song. Sitting on her bed, with her armsclasped around her knees, the lame girl weaved back and forth as she sang:
"'At Briarwood Hall we have many a lark-- But one wide river to cross! The River of Knowledge--its current dark-- Is the one wide river to cross! Sweetbriars all-l! One wide River of Knowledge! Sweetbriars all-l! One wide river to cross!
"'Sweetbriars come here, one by one-- But one wide river to cross! There's lots of work, but plenty of fun, With one wide river to cross!'"
"Altogether!" cried Heavy. "All join in!"
"The dear old chant!" said Helen, with a happy sigh.
Ruth had already taken up the chorus again, and her rich, full-throatedtones filled the room:
"'Sweetbriars all-l! One wide River of Knowledge! Sweetbriars all-l! One wide river to cross!'"
"Once more!" exclaimed the girl from Montana, who could not herself sing anote in harmony, but liked to hear the others. The chant continued:
"'Sweetbriars joining, two by two-- There's one wide river to cross! Some so scared they daren't say 'Booh!' To the one wide river to cross!"
"That was _us_, Ruthie!" broke off Helen, laughing. "Remember how scaredwe were when we walked up the old Cedar Walk with The Fox, here, anddidn't know whether we were going to be met with a brass band or a ticketto the guillotine?"
The Fox, otherwise Mary Cox, suddenly turned red. Ruth hastened to smoothover her chum's rather tactless speech, for Mary had been a different girlat that time from what she was now, and the memory of the hazing she hadvisited on Ruth and Helen annoyed her.
"And what did meet us?" cried Ruth, dramatically. "Why, a poor, emaciatedcreature standing at the steps of this old West Dormitory, complainingthat she would starve before supper if the bell did not sound soon. Youremember, Heavy?"
"And I feel that way now," said Jennie Stone in a hollow tone. "I don'tknow what makes me so, but I am continually hungry at least three times aday--and at regular intervals. I must see a physician about it."
"Aren't you afraid of the effect of eating so much, Jennie?" asked Helen,gently.
"What's that? Is there a new disease?" asked the fleshy girl, trying toexpress fear--which she never could do successfully in any such case.Jennie had probably never been ill in her life save as the immediateresult of over-indulgence in eating.
"No, my dear," said Ruth Fielding's chum. "But they do tell me that eating_too_ much may make one _fat_."
"Horrors!" ejaculated Jennie. "I can't believe you. Then that is what isthe matter with me! I thought I looked funny in the mirror. I must begetting a wee bit plump."
"Plump!"
"Hear her!"
"She's the girl who went up in the balloon and came down 'plump!'"
The shouts that greeted Heavy's seriously put remark did not disturb thefleshy girl at all. "That is exactly the trouble," she went on, quiteplacidly. "And it cost me half a dollar yesterday."
"What's that?" asked somebody, curiously.
"Where?" asked another girl.
"In chapel. Didn't you see me trying to crawl through between the two rowsof seats? And I got stuck!"
"Did you have to pay Foyle the fifty cents to pry you out, Heavy?"demanded Ann Hicks.
"No. I dropped the half dollar and tried to find it. I looked for it;that's all I _could_ do. I was too fat to find it."
"Did you look good, Jennie?" asked Ruth, sympathetically.
"Did I look good?" repeated the fleshy girl, with scorn. "I looked as goodas a fat girl crawling around on all fours, ever _does_ look. What do youthink?"
The laugh at Jennie Stone's sally really cleared the room, for the warningbell for supper sounded almost immediately. Heavy and Nettie, and all whodid not belong in the quartette room, departed. Then Mercy went tap, tap,tapping down the corridor with her canes--"just like a silly woodpecker!"as she often said herself; and Ann strode away, trying to hum the marchingsong, but ignominiously falling into the doleful strains of the "Cowboy'sLament" before she reached the head of the stairway.
"I really would like to know what that thing is you've been writing,Ruth," remarked Helen, when they were alone. "All those sheets ofpaper--Goodness! it's no composition. I believe you've been writing yourvaledictory this early."
"Don't be silly," laughed Ruth. "I shall never write the valedictory ofthis class. Mercy will do that."
"I don't care! Mrs. Tellingham considers you the captain of the graduatingclass. So now!" cried loyal Helen.
"That may be; but Mercy is our brilliant girl--you know that."
"Yes--the poor dear! but how could she ever stand up before them all andgive an oration?"
"She _shall_!" cried Ruth, with emphasis. "She shall _not_ be cheated outof all the glory she wins--or of an atom of that glory. If she is ourfirst scholar, she must, somehow, have all the honors that go with theposition."
"Oh, Ruthie! how can you overcome her natural dislike of 'making anexhibition of herself,' as she calls it, and the fact that, really, a girlas lame as she is, poor creature, could never make a pleasant appearanceupon the platform?"
&
nbsp; "I do not know," Ruth said seriously. "Not now. But I shall think it out,if nobody else _can_. Mercy shall graduate with flying colors fromBriarwood Hall, whether I do myself, or not!"
"Never mind," said Helen, laughing at her chum's emphasis. "At least thevaledictorian will hail from this dear old quartette room."
"Yes," agreed Ruth, looking around the loved chamber with a tender smile."What will we do when we see it no longer, Helen?"
"Oh, don't talk about it!" cried Helen, who had forgotten by this timewhat she had started to question Ruth about. "Come on! We'll be late forsupper."
When her chum's back was turned, Ruth slipped out of her table drawer thevery packet of papers Helen had spoken about. The sheets had beentypewritten and were now sealed in a manila envelope, which was addressedand stamped.
She hesitated all day about dropping the packet in the mailbag; but nowshe took her courage in both hands and determined to send it to itsdestination.