Read The Jolliest School of All Page 15


  CHAPTER XV

  Peachy's Birthday

  Delia Watts, walking one afternoon along the lemon pergola, came acrossa small group of Camellia Buds ensconced in a cozy corner at the foot ofthe steps by the fountain.

  "Hello! You've found a dandy place here. You look so comfy. May I joinon?" she chirped.

  "Sure_lee_!" said Jess cordially, pushing Irene farther along to makeroom. "Come and squat down, dearie, and add your voice to the powwow.We're just discussing something fearfully urgent and important. Do youknow it'll be Peachy's birthday next week?"

  "Of course I know. Nobody could room with Peachy and not hear aboutthat. She's the most excited girl on earth. She's been promised a goldwrist-watch and a morocco hand-bag, and I can't tell you what else, andshe's just living till she gets them. I wish it was my birthday. I'mjealous!"

  "Don't be such a pig," responded Jess. "You got your fun in theholidays. You can't have things twice over. What we were talking aboutwas this--the sorority ought to rally somehow and give Peachy asurprise. Can't we get up a special stunt?"

  "Rather! Put me on the committee, please! Couldn't we get leave for adormitory tea? I know Miss Rodgers rather frowned on them last term, butperhaps if we wheedled Miss Morley she'd say 'yes.' We'd promise toclear up and not make any mess, and to finish promptly before prep time.That ought to content her. What votes?"

  Every hand ascended with enthusiasm.

  "Good for you, Delia!" complimented Jess. "We haven't had a dormitorytea for just ages; not, in fact, since Aggie upset the spirit-lamp. Ithink Miss Morley's forgotten that now, though. You must do the askingyourself. You're our champion wheedler. If anybody can soften MissMorley's hard heart it will be you. Tell her Peachy will be homesick,and we feel it'll be our duty to cheer her up a little."

  "I'll pitch it as strong as I can," said Delia, "but of course it's nouse going too far. Peachy doesn't look a homesick subject in need ofcheering. I'm afraid Miss Morley may snort if I put it on that score.I'd better just explain we want to have a stunt. I believe she'll catchon. Leave it to me and I'll try my best to manage her."

  "Right-o! We give you carte blanche!"

  "Then I'll waddle off now."

  Delia's success mostly depended upon tact. She judged that if she askedMiss Morley, tired at the end of a busy morning, she would probably meetwith a curt refusal, but that if she found her, seated in her ownbed-sitting-room, soothed with afternoon tea and reading a delectablebook, her sympathy would be much more readily aroused. On this occasionDelia's judgment was correct. After a perfectly harmonious interviewwith the Principal she scurried back to her fellow Camellia Buds, herface one satisfied grin.

  "She said, 'Certainly, my dear!' We may ask Elvira for a special teapotand a plate of bread and butter, and we may give Antonio three liraapiece to buy us cakes. We may do what we like so long as the room istidy again before prep. She'll send a prefect at 5.45 to inspect. If theplace is in a muddle it'll be the last time, so we'd better be careful,for I could see she meant that."

  "We're in luck!" cried Irene, giving a bounce of rapture.

  "It's great!"

  "Yummy!"

  "I thought you'd congratulate me," smirked Delia. "Now let's get busyand decide what sort of a stunt we mean to have. Is Peachy to know, oris it to be a surprise?"

  "That's the question! She'll have to be told and invited and all therest of it, but she needn't hear any details beforehand. I vote we allarrange to come in fancy costume--that would really be a stunt."

  "We shall have to tell Peachy _that_!"

  "No, you mustn't. We'll have a costume all ready prepared for her, likethe wedding garment in the parable. She'll have nothing to do but slipit on."

  If Peachy was looking forward to her own birthday, her friends wereanticipating the happy event with enthusiasm. They had decided to holdthe festivities in her dormitory, but had required her to give a solemnpledge not to enter the room after 2 p.m. so as to give them a freehand. During the half-hour before drawing-class they met, and held a"Decoration Bee." Nine determined girls, who have prepared theirmaterials, can work wonders in a short time, and in ten hurried minutesthey accomplished a vast amount.

  "Mary, lend a hand, and help me stand on the dressing table."

  "She won't know the place when she sees it!"

  "Aren't we all busy bees!"

  "It begins to look rather nice, doesn't it?"

  "Don't tug this chain! It's tearing! Now you've done it!"

  "I flatter myself she'll get the surprise of her life!"

  "_Ra_-ther!"

  With flags, paper chains, and garlands of flowers, the decoratorscontrived to make dormitory 13 look absolutely _en fete_. They borroweda table from another bedroom, placed the two together, covered them witha cloth, and spread forth the cakes which Antonio had been commissionedto buy.

  "Elvira will fetch us the teapot and the bread and butter at four. Wecan yank into our costumes in a few seconds, so we needn't waste muchtime. Don't let Miss Darrer keep you dawdling about the studio," urgedAgnes.

  "No fear of that. The moment the bell goes it will be 'down pencils.'She can hold forth to the others to-day if she wants to talk afterschool. By the by, everybody's _so_ jealous of us!"

  "I know! The seniors are grumbling like anything because they didn'tthink of having a bedroom tea for Phyllis. It's their own fault. Theyhaven't another birthday amongst them this term. That's the grievance.And Miss Morley won't give leave for a dormitory stunt unless it'ssomebody's birthday. She's firm on that point. We've certainly all theluck."

  The Camellia Buds pursued their art studies that afternoon with acertain abstraction. Peachy worked with her left wrist poised, so thatshe could obtain a perpetual view of the new gold watch that had arrivedby post that morning; Delia frittered her time shamelessly; Esther wasguilty of writing surreptitious messages to Joan upon the edges of herchalk copy of "Apollo"; and Irene, usually interested in her work, had afit of the fidgets. The moment the bell sounded and the class wasdismissed they bundled their pencils into their boxes, and left thestudio with almost indecent haste.

  "Only an hour and a half altogether for our stunt doesn't leave us muchtime to be polite," remarked Aggie, smarting under a rebuke administeredby Miss Darrer, who had restrained their stampede and insisted upon anorderly retreat. "It's all very well for people to saunter elegantlywhen they've nothing particular to do. I dare say the Italians _may_look dignified, but we can't stalk about as if we were perpetuallycarrying water-pots on our heads."

  "American girls have more energy than that. I'm just ready to fly tobits," declared Delia, prancing down the passage like a playful kitten.

  "I give everybody five minutes to get on their costumes," decreed Jess."Peachy must stay outside in the passage and wait. I'll tinkle my Swissgoat-bell when you're all to come in."

  Peachy, pulling a long face of protest, took her stand obediently in thecorridor, while her three roommates entered dormitory 13. Their fancydresses were lying ready on their beds, and they whisked into them withthe utmost haste.

  "There! Is my cap on straight? Jess, you look fine! I guess we shan'tkeep the crowd waiting. We'd earn our livings as quick-change artistesany day. Is that Elvira? Oh, thanks! Put the teapot down there, please.What a huge plate of bread and butter. We'll never eat it! Mary, ifyou're ready you might be uncovering the grub."

  The girls had laid everything in preparation for their feast, and, toprotect their dainties from flies, had put sheets of tissue paper overthe table. Mary lifted these deftly, but as she removed them her smugsatisfaction changed to a howl of dismay. Instead of the temptingdainties which they had placed there with their own hands stood a circleof bricks and stones.

  For a moment all three gazed blankly at the awful sight. Then they foundspeech.

  "Our beautiful cakes!"

  "Where are they?"

  "Who's done this?"

  "Oh! the _brutes_!"

  "Who's been in?"

  "How _dare_ they?"


  "Wherever have they put them?"

  "Have they eaten them?"

  "Oh! What a shame!"

  "What _are_ we to do?"

  It was indeed a desperate situation, for loud thumps at the doorproclaimed the advent of the visitors, who seemed likely to be providedwith a decidedly Barmecide feast. Delia, however, had an inspiration.She stooped on hands and knees and foraged under the beds, announcing bya jubilant screech that she had discovered the lost property. It did nottake long to move away the stones and to transfer the plates from thefloor to the table, after which three much flustered hostesses openedthe door and gushed a welcome to their guests. It was rather a motleygroup who entered: Irene as a nun in waterproof and hood; Agnes as a RedCross Nurse; Esther a Turk, with a towel for a turban; Joan a sportsmanin her gymnasium knickers; Sheila, in a tricolor cap, representedFrance; and Lorna was draped with the Union Jack; Jess with a plaidarranged as a kilt made a sturdy Highlander; Mary was an Irish colleen;while Delia, in a wrapper ornamental with fringes of tissue paper, stoodfor "Carnival." A white dressing jacket trimmed with green leaves, and agarland of flowers were waiting for Peachy, and when the latter waspopped on her head she was promptly proclaimed "Queen o' the May." Verymuch flattered by these preparations in her honor, the guest of theoccasion took her place at the table.

  "I'm absolutely astounded," she announced. "Where did you get all thisspread? You don't mean to tell me Antonio was _allowed_ to go and buyit! It's too topping for words!"

  "We thought it had gone out of the window, a moment ago," said Jess,explaining their horrible predicament as she wielded the teapot.

  The Camellia Buds listened aghast. Somebody had evidently been playing ashameful trick upon them.

  "It's Mabel!"

  "Or Bertha!"

  "No, no! They'd have taken the cakes quite away instead of only hidingthem!"

  "Then it must be Winnie or Ruth!"

  "Quite likely. They knew we were having the party."

  "The wretches!"

  "We'll pay them out afterwards!"

  "What a mean thing to do!"

  "They were honest, at any rate, and didn't take so much as a biscuit."

  "They'd have heard about it if they had!"

  "'All's well that ends well!'"

  "And we'd better clear the dishes while we can. Have another piece oficed sandwich, Mary!"

  "No, thanks! I really don't want any more."

  The Camellia Buds, having disposed of the feast, and having yet half anhour of the birthday party left on their hands, decided to hold whatthey called a "Mixed Recitation Stunt." They sat in a circle on thefloor and counted out till the lot fell upon one of them, whose pleasingduty it became to act entertainer for the next five minutes, when shewas entitled to hand the part on to somebody else. Fate, aided perhapsby a little gentle maneuvering, gave the first turn to Jess.

  "I adore poetry, but I never can remember it by heart," she protested,"so don't expect me to 'speak a piece,' please. No, I'm not trying toget out of it. I'll do my bit the same as everybody else. Stop gigglingand listen, because I'm going to tell you something spooky. It's a realHighland story. It happened to an aunt of mine. Are you ready? Well thenbe quiet, because I'm going to begin:

  "I have an aunt who lives in the Highlands. Her name is JessieM'Gregor. Yes, I'm named after her! Some of her family had had the giftof second sight, but not all of them. Her grandmother had it verystrongly, and used to foretell the strangest things, and they alwayscame true. Aunt Jessie was a seventh child. That's always supposed togive people the power of seeing visions. If she'd been the seventh child_of_ a seventh child then she'd have been a 'spey wife' and foreseen thefuture, but she wasn't that exactly. She came very near to it once,though, and that's what I want to tell you about. Uncle Gordon was goingto London, and, the day before he started, Auntie was sitting alone inthe garden. She hadn't been very well, so she was just leaning back in adeck-chair resting. She wasn't asleep; she was looking at the view andthinking how lovely it all was. She could see right across the moor anddown the valley where the river ran; the heather was in blossom and itwas a glorious sight. Suddenly it seemed as if everything became blurredand dark, as if a mist were before her eyes. A patch cleared through themidst of this and she could see the valley below as if she were lookingthrough an enormous telescope. The river had burst its banks, and wasflowing all over the line, and through the flood came the train, anddashed into the water. She saw this vision only for a moment, then itpassed. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if it was a dream. She decidedit was a warning. She's very superstitious. Most Highland people are.She didn't want Uncle Gordon to go next day by the little train that randown the valley, but she knew if she told him her 'vision' he would onlylaugh at her. So she pretended she wanted to do some shopping atAberfylde, a town fifteen miles away, where the local railway joins themain line. She told Uncle Gordon that if they motored there together shecould see him off on the London express, and then have a day's shopping.So he agreed, and they went in the car. There was a tremendous storm inthe night, and it was still raining when they started. Auntie spent theday in Aberfylde and motored back, and when she reached home she noticedthe valley had turned into a lake. The terrific rain had swollen all thestreams and made the river burst its banks, and the line was flooded,and it was impossible for the train to run. So her 'vision' really didcome true after all. She's ever so proud of it, and wrote it all down sothat she shouldn't forget it. That's my story. Now it's somebody else'sstunt. Let's count out again."

  Fortune cast the lot this time on Agnes, who wrinkled up her foreheadand protested she didn't know anything to tell, but, when urged,remembered something she had heard during the summer holidays.

  "It's true too!" she assured them. "We were staying at Tarana. We hada villa there. Water was very scarce, and we used to have two barrels ofit brought every day on donkeyback by a woman whose business it was toact as carrier. Her name was Luigia, and she was very picturesquelooking, and had the most beautiful dark eyes, though she always lookedfearfully sad. Daddy is fond of sketching, and he painted a picture ofher standing with her donkey under the vines. We guessed somehow thatshe had a history, and we asked Sareda, our cook, about her. Sareda kneweverybody in the place. She was a dear old gossip. She got quite excitedover Luigia's story. She said it had been the talk of Tarana at thetime. Luigia used to be a lovely girl when she was young, and she wasquite wealthy for a peasant, because she owned a little lemon grove onthe hillside. She inherited it from her father, who was dead. Of course,because she was beautiful and a village heiress, she soon found asweetheart, and became engaged to Francesco, a fisherman who lived downon the Marina. Everything was going on very happily, and the wedding wasfixed, when suddenly it was found there was something wrong withLuigia's glorious eyes. She went to a doctor in Naples, and he told herthat unless a certain operation were performed she would go blind. Ifshe went to Paris, to a specialist whom he named, her sight might besaved. Poor Luigia sold her lemon grove in a hurry, to get the necessarymoney, and packed up and started for Paris immediately. She was away sixmonths, and she came back penniless, but seeing as well as ever. Shetrudged all the way from Liparo to Tarana, along the coast road, becauseshe could not afford to take the train. When she walked into her ownvillage, the first thing she saw was a wedding party leaving the church.She stopped to watch, and as the procession passed her who should thegayly-dressed bridegroom prove to be but her own faithless sweetheartFrancesco. She screamed and fainted, and some kindly neighbors took herin and cared for her. She got work afterwards in the village, but shedid not find a husband, because her lemon grove was sold, and thesepeasants will not marry a wife without a dowry. No wonder she looked sosad. We were always frightfully sorry for her."

  Sheila, who was the next entertainer, recited a ballad; and Delia also"spoke a piece," an amusing episode of child life, which she renderedwith much humor. The next turn was Irene's, and the girls, who were in amood for listening, clamored for a story.

>   "I haven't any first-hand or original adventures," she declared. "Myaunts never have psychic experiences, and the people who brought usthings to the door in London weren't interesting in the least. If youlike romance, though, I remember a tale in a little old, old book thatbelonged to my great grandmother. It was supposed to be true, and I daresay it may have really happened, more than a hundred years ago, just as'The Babes in the Wood' really happened in Norfolk in Elizabethan times.It's about a girl named Mary Howard. Her father and mother died when shewas only four years old, and she was left an orphan. She was heiress toa very great property, and her uncle, Mr. John Howard, was made herguardian. She also had another uncle, Mr. Dallas, her mother's brother,but he lived in Calcutta and she had never seen him. Mr. John Howardwished to get hold of Mary's estates for himself, so he laid a carefulplot. First, he sent all the servants away, including her nurse, BettyMorris, who was devoted to her. Betty offered to stay on without wages,but when this was refused she became suspicious, and wrote a letter toMr. Dallas warning him to look after his sister's child. But it tookmany months in those days for a letter to get to Calcutta, and meantimeMr. Howard was pursuing a wicked scheme. Soon afterwards Betty heardthat her charge had been stolen by gypsies for the sake of her amberbeads, and could not be found anywhere. What had really happened wasworse even than Betty had feared. Mr. Howard had hired a sailor, who wasin desperate need of money, and bribed him to decoy the child away, takeher to the seaside and there drown her. Robert, the sailor, fulfilledthe first part of his bargain but not the second. He carried little Maryinto a remote part of Wales, but he did not do her any harm. Instead, hebecame extremely fond of her and determined to save her from her uncle.So he bought a passage in a vessel bound for New Zealand and took her tosea with him, pretending she was his daughter. She was a sweet, gentlelittle creature, and soon became a favorite on board.

  "Among the crew was a Maori boy named Duaterra, whose father was a greatchief in New Zealand. The Captain, for some offense, ordered this boy tobe flogged, and Duaterra could not forgive the indignity. He planned aterrible revenge. When they reached New Zealand he persuaded the Captainand crew to land in his father's territory; then, summoning his savagefriends he ordered a general massacre and killed them all, saving onlyRobert and little Mary. Robert had been good to him and had given himtobacco, and Duaterra adored Mary, and called her his Mocking Bird. TheMaoris plundered and burnt the ship after they had murdered the crew,but they were kind to Robert and Mary, and built a native house forthem. Here they lived for four years, for they had no opportunity toescape. Robert married the chief's daughter and settled down as a memberof the tribe, but he became very anxious about little Mary. He knew thatDuaterra looked upon her as his prospective bride, and he could not bearto think of the lovely child ever becoming the wife of a savage.

  "One day a marvelous opportunity occurred for sending Mary home. A shipput in to obtain fresh water, and on the vessel happened to be an oldfriend of Robert's, named John Morris, actually the brother of BettyMorris, Mary's former nurse. Robert told John the whole story and beggedhim to take the little girl to England, and deliver her into Betty'shands. He paid for her passage with the money which Mr. Howard had givenhim as a bribe, and which, as he could not use money in New Zealand, hehad kept buried in the ground. Mary was carried on board ship when shewas fast asleep at night, and poor Robert cried like a child at partingfrom her. John Morris proved a faithful friend. He took Mary to London,and sent a message to his sister Betty who was then living inDevonshire. When she arrived she was able to identify her nursling, andto tell John that Mr. Dallas had arrived from Calcutta and had offered alarge reward for the recovery of his niece. So Mary was placed under theguardianship of her mother's brother, who took good care both of her andher estates, and the wicked uncle was so overcome with shame, when thestory of his crime got about, that he went crazy and ended his days in alunatic asylum."

  "And the best place for him, too!" commented Jess. "He must have been abrute. I dare say things like that really _did_ happen before there weredaily papers to publish photos of lost children, and when the Maoris inNew Zealand were still savages. Look here, my hearties! Do you realizeit's 5.35? We've got exactly ten minutes to clear up before Rachelarrives on the rampage."

  "Gracious! Help me out of these duds! Rachel would never let me hearthe end of it if she caught me as a May Queen. I know her sarcastictongue," squealed Peachy. "Thanks just fifty thousand times for mybirthday party. It's been absolutely prime, and I've never enjoyedanything as much for years. Sorry to send you others into the cold, coldworld, but I'm afraid you'll have to scoot and change."