The Girls of St. Cyprian's: A Tale of School Life

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER V

  An Advertisement Competition

  Though the general census at St. Cyprian's had docketed Mildredemphatically as "musical", she was not on that account entirely debarredfrom joining other societies. True, she was expected to concentrate herenergies on her violin, and win credit with it for the school, but solong as she did not claim a leading part in any of the alliancecontests, there was no objection to her being an ordinary member. Allthe girls were strongly encouraged to play games, so she practisedtennis in the dinner hour, and took her turn with the rank and file atcricket. She had not the essential characteristics of a champion--herphysique was not vigorous enough, and she lacked perseverance--but theexercise was good for her, and as the term wore on she began to exhibitimprovement. Kitty Fletcher was in hard training, and had inspired aselect number of suitable votaries with a like enthusiasm.

  "We shall have a hard fight presently with the High School, so we mustshow that St. Cyprian's is capable of something," she said. "They shan'thave it all their own way. I'm sorry we can't put you in the team,Mildred."

  "I don't want to be in the team. I'd much rather look on when it's aquestion of matches. At present I'm thoroughly enjoying dabbling in allthe societies. I've joined the sketching club, and I'm taking a turn atthe Literary."

  "That's more in your line than mine. I'd rather spend an afternoon atcricket than compose an essay."

  "Oh, I'm not doing any real solid writing. I leave that to PhillisGarnett and Laura Kirby. They're hard at work making a magazine numberthat's to rival the _Nineteenth Century_ or the _Hibbert Journal_. Mycontributions are of a very light character. I sent one in the otherday, and--isn't it sad?--it was rejected 'with the editor'scompliments'. I tackled Phillis about it, and she said the mag. wasmeant to be serious, not comic. I thought my poem might have livenedthings up a little, but she'd have none of it."

  "Have you got it here?"

  "Yes; like the orthodox unsuccessful minor poet, I have it in mypocket."

  "Oh, do let me see it!"

  "It has the advantage of shortness, and if brevity is the soul of wit,that ought to be a point in its favour," said Mildred, producing hermaiden effort. "I call it a 'compressed novelette'. Perhaps I'd betterread it aloud to do it full justice. My writing isn't very clear.

  "All ringed and bangled, At me you angled; With ways newfangled The bait you dangled. Yet ere bells jangled We two had wrangled, Our love was tangled, My heart was mangled!"

  "Not half-bad!" laughed Kitty. "I'm afraid it's hardly the style,though, to impress Phillis or Laura. If you could have written it inGreek it might have suited them. What did the others say to it?"

  "Haven't had time to show it to them yet."

  "Some of them will like it. They're not all as deep as Phillis andLaura. Why don't you get up a little fun among the more frivolous end?"

  "It might be worth thinking of if I find an opportunity."

  Mildred, who had a strong vein of humour in her composition, treasuredup Kitty's suggestion. She knew the bulk of the members could not riseto the height of the learned essay which their leaders considered worthyof the magazine, but they would be quite ready to amuse themselves withwork of a less exacting character. Several schemes occurred to her andwere put aside, but one day she hit upon something really appropriate,and came to school with visible triumph on her face. At eleven-o'clockbreak she cajoled the lesser lights of the literary society to a privatecorner of the playground, and propounded her scheme.

  "Look here," she began. "I saw this advertisement in yesterday's_Herald_, and cut it out:

  "LITERARY.--Wanted, short poems to advertise a famous brand of tea. Prize of three guineas offered for best effort, and ten shillings each for any others selected. Cracker mottoes and comic verses for Christmas cards also considered. Last date for receiving, May 20th.--No. 201x, _Kirkton Herald_ Office.

  Well, now, my idea is this. Let's all try and write some verses, putthem together, and send them in. It would be such a joke!"

  "Could we write verses about tea?" hazarded Maggie Orton doubtfully.

  "Of course we can. It rhymes with heaps of things--agree, and free, andquali_tee_; it shouldn't be hard at all."

  "I rather incline towards cracker mottoes," said Clarice Mayfield. "Mostthat one gets at Christmas parties are such drivel. I've often felt Icould make better."

  "Then do try. And, Margaret, you ought to be able to turn out someChristmas-card verses. Let's make a syndicate, and pool all ourcontributions. Everybody to send in not less than one, and more ifpossible."

  "How about the prize, if one of the poems got it? Should we pool that?"

  "We could divide it," suggested Myrtle Robinson.

  "No, I've a better idea than that," said Mildred. "We'd bepublic-spirited, and devote any proceeds we got to the school library.We've the most rubbishy set of old books at St. Cyprian's, and want somenew ones badly. Who votes for this?"

  "Aye! Aye!" came quite unanimously from the girls, though Maggie Ortonqualified her assent with a cautious "If we get it".

  "Well, that goes without saying, of course. Naturally it's a case of'first catch your hare'. But there's no harm in trying, so we must allset our wits to work and see what we can manage. It ought to be rathersport."

  "Especially if we see the verses in print afterwards," giggled thegirls.

  "You'd better not tell Phillis," added Myrtle.

  "I don't intend to," laughed Mildred.

  The various members of the syndicate were rather taken with the idea ofthe competition, and exercised their brains to the utmost in evolvingeulogies of the unknown brand of tea. Some of their effusions they toreup, and some they kept. In the end, after being carefully read aloud andvoted on, three only were judged worthy of being submitted. These wereby Maggie Orton, Myrtle Robinson, and Mildred herself. They ran asfollows:--

  OUR BRAND

  "If a good tea you would buy, You can always quite rely On our excellent and justly famous blend. 'T is a most delicious cup, That will tone and cheer you up, And one that we can safely recommend.

  "If you want good honest tea, That will rich in flavour be, So fragrant, so refreshing, and so pure, Just try our special brand Of young leaves picked by hand, 'T will give you satisfaction, we are sure.

  "Let the water be fresh boiled, Or the tea'll perchance be spoiled, And brewed for just three minutes let it be. Then we think you'll never tire Of sitting by the fire, And enjoying our delicious brand of tea."

  A FAMOUS BLEND

  "All those who try Good tea to buy, And oft have found The price too high, We recommend That you should try Our famous blend.

  "By careful choice All crops among, We mix a blend That can't go wrong; For flavour rare Housewives declare 'T is past compare.

  "The huge demand On every hand Shows to the wise It takes the prize. We can rely, If once you try, You'll always buy."

  WORLD-FAMOUS TEA

  "If a tea you would find that is just to your mind, Yet that won't be too dear for your pocket, Try our world-famous blend, when your money you spend, And remember our branches all stock it. So come to our shop for your tea, Our famous, rich, syrupy tea; If once you will get it, you'll never regret it, But join in the praise of our tea.

  "Home's a glad happy place, with a smile on each face, If our world-famous brand you will sample; 'T is the tea ladies love, as the large demands prove. And three spoons in the pot will be ample. So come to our shop for your tea, Our famous, rich, syrupy tea; Mansion, cottage, or hall, it is suited to all, The best that can possibly be."

  A few cracker mottoes and Christmas-card verses were also selected, andthe whole set put together. Mildred, as the originator of the scheme,took charge
of them, and promised to send them off in good time for thecompetition. It seemed no use forwarding them too soon, as they wouldprobably only lie waiting at the _Herald_ offices, so she put them by ina drawer to post when the right date arrived. Now, unfortunately, thoughMildred could be extremely keen upon a thing at the moment, once thefirst excitement of it was over it was apt to slip from her memory. Shehad enjoyed trying her 'prentice muse at tea verses, but, havingfinished them, she turned her thoughts to something else. Music was atpresent absorbing most of her time, and in the interest of her violinthe papers lay in her drawer forgotten. On the afternoon of May 20th shewas sitting in the studio working at her drawing copy, with no more ideaof advertisements for tea in her thoughts than if that beverage hadnever existed. At three o'clock she was due for her music lesson fromHerr Hoffmann, and she was putting in time rather languidly at her chalkhead of Venus, and wondering whether the Professor would be in a goodtemper, or whether he would scold her for faulty rendering of her study.Myrtle Robinson was sitting at the desk behind, and presently contrived,without attracting the attention of the teacher, to hand her a slip ofpaper. She opened it carelessly enough, and read:

  "I suppose you posted the competitions all right? M. R."

  Mildred dropped her pencil and broke its point in her agitation. Postedthe competitions? She had done nothing of the sort. They were stilllying in her drawer at home, though to-day was the last date forreceiving them.

  "Oh, what a lunatic I am!" she groaned to herself, "I, who suggested thewhole thing, and made the others write, to be the one to forget allabout it! Something has to be done, that's clear. And it must be done atonce, too. I mustn't on any account let the girls know I failed them."

  Mildred was impulsive to a fault. At this moment the one business inlife seemed to be to get the competitions to their destination, even atthe eleventh hour. It was futile to post them, but they might still bedelivered at the offices of the _Kirkton Herald_. There was nothing elsefor it, she must take them herself, and that immediately. It was almostthree o'clock, and the art mistress knew that she had to go to her musiclesson. She rose, therefore, received the nod of dismissal, and,ignoring Myrtle's signal demanding an answer to her question, put awayher drawing-board, and hurried from the studio. Instead, however, offetching her violin, and going straight to No. 6 practising room, whereHerr Hoffmann would just be finishing Mary Hutton's lesson, she walkedto the dressing-room, and put on her hat and coat. She knew she wasgoing to do a most dreadfully unauthorized and unorthodox act, and sheshivered to think of the consequences, but she did not hesitate for onemoment.

  "That competition's got to go in time," she told herself, "even thoughthe Professor rages, and Miss Cartwright storms, and I get myself intothe biggest pickle I've ever been in, in all my life. I can't fail thegirls now. I couldn't look them in the face again. It would be tooignominious. No, I've a pressing engagement elsewhere this afternoon,and can't keep my appointment with Herr Hoffmann, though I shan't writea note and tell him so!"

  At three o'clock it was extremely easy to leave the school unobserved.Nobody was about, so Mildred simply walked out through the gate. Shetook the electric car home, and was rather relieved to find that neitherher uncle nor her aunt was in the house. She felt she would rather notenter into any explanations just at present. The papers were quite readyin an envelope, and duly addressed, so she took them from her drawer,and caught the next tram-car into Kirkton. The _Herald_ offices were inCorporation Street, a business part of the city she did not know at all,but she thought she could find it. She felt rather adventurous anddecidedly naughty, for she was not supposed to go on expeditions byherself without first asking leave at home, to say nothing of having runaway from St. Cyprian's.

  She left the tram at the High Street corner, and turned down CorporationStreet. The town was very crowded, and she was almost jostled off thepavement by the numbers of people who were passing to and fro. By dintof asking a policeman she at last found the offices of the _KirktonHerald_. She did not know whether she was expected to ring, knock, orwalk in, but she could see no bell, and as business men kept passing inand out by a large swinging door, she plucked up her courage, andfollowed in the wake of a new-comer. She had done the right thing, forshe found herself in a big room, having a counter like a bank to divideclerks from customers. She handed in her envelope with a timid enquiryas to whether it was in time.

  "Just in time," was the reply. "We close the box-office department atfour-thirty."

  With a sigh of intense relief, Mildred watched the clerk place hercommunication in a pigeonhole. So it was safe, and she had not betrayedher trust after all. She felt the satisfaction was worth almost anyamount of scolding. She turned leisurely to leave the office, when thebig door swung open, and she found herself face to face with no less aperson than Herr Hoffmann. Most egregiously caught, Mildred turnedcrimson, and would have beaten a swift retreat had not the Professorbarred the way.

  "So, Miss Lancaster! I find you here! Are you then having a violinlesson from ze newspaper? I wait half an hour for you at ze school, andyou not come! How is it you fail to-day to be at your lesson?"

  Mildred blushed still redder, tried to stammer an excuse, then seeing atwinkle of amusement gleaming under Herr Hoffmann's bushy eyebrows, shetook a sudden resolution, and blurted out the truth. She made her littlestory as short as possible, and the Professor nodded his head withGerman gravity at the principal points. When she had finished, hechuckled softly.

  "So you would turn poets at St. Cyprian's, and write songs in praise oftea? You shall show me ze verses? Yes, some day. But while you write zepoetry, ze violin does not make progress. To-day we were to have takenze concerto and ze 'Fruehlingslied'. Is it not so?"

  "Yes," murmured Mildred, much abashed.

  "I like not that you miss your lesson. You shall come to me to-morrow atmy house, No. 50 Basil Street, and I will hear you play ze concerto.Yes, at four-thirty. You will be there?"

  "Oh, thank you!" said Mildred. "Yes, of course I'll come. It's very goodof you to make up the lesson."

  "Some day you shall read me ze tea verses. Miss Cartwright, is she alsosatisfied for you to miss school?" said Herr Hoffmann, with a friendlynod, as he dismissed his pupil and turned to the counter.

  Mildred hurried home, feeling that she had not only Miss Cartwright toreckon with, but her aunt as well. She had a very open, truthfuldisposition, and did not dream of concealing her escapade. She told Mrs.Graham the exact facts as they had occurred.

  "I just had to do it, Tantie dear! I don't see how I could possibly havedone anything else."

  Fortunately for Mildred, though Mrs. Graham shook her head, she did nottake a severe view of the matter.

  "It's extremely good of Herr Hoffmann to make up the lesson," sheremarked. "You must try to get in an extra half-hour's practice to-day,so as to have the concerto better prepared. You really don't deservethat he should give up his time to you."

  "I'm rather scared at the prospect of going to his house," confessedMildred. "But I will have an extra tussle with the concerto to-night. Ihope he won't ask to see the tea verses."

  At five minutes to nine on the following morning, Mildred walked intoMiss Cartwright's study, and tendered an explanation of her absence theafternoon before, together with an apology for her behaviour.

  "It was a hard case, I own," said the Principal. "But why did you notcome at once to me, and ask leave? If I pass over it, you must not letthis prove a precedent, Mildred. It would never do for girls to walk outof school just when they like."

  "I know. I ought to have come and asked. But somehow I never thought ofit. I was in such a hurry, I could do nothing but rush home for thepapers. I'll never do it again, Miss Cartwright, on my honour."

  "Very well; as you have told me of it yourself, and apologized, I'll sayno more about it. You can go."

  Mildred passed from the study, congratulating herself that she hadescaped so easily. She told her thrilling story to the other members ofthe syndicate, a
nd they rejoiced together that the competition wasreceived in time.

  "When shall we hear the result?" asked Myrtle.

  "Not for weeks, I expect. Besides, I don't really suppose that anythingwill come of it," returned Mildred.