The Jolliest School of All

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER V

  Fairy Godmothers, Limited

  Irene Beverley, when she first left the shores of her native land, was aparticularly light-hearted, jolly little Britisher, not at all bookish,and not accustomed to worry her head over any of the deep affairs oflife, but ready to have a royal time with anybody of similar tastes andinclinations. In her first letter home she summed up the results of aweek's experience.

  "THE VILLA CAMELLIA.

  "MUMMIE DARLING,

  "This is to tell you I am still alive! I'm a little surprised, because I thought math would kill me. Miss Bickford is most _horribly_ conscientious and insists upon finding out whether I really understand or not, and it is generally 'not.' I suppose I was born with a thick head for figures, anyway, she seems amazed at my ignorance. I lay the blame on St. Osmund's. Is that mean of me? It's my only way of paying out Miss Gordon for past scores.

  "I don't mind admitting I have warm times in school over some of the classes, but the rest of the life is lovely. Miss Bickford is often a big thorn, but Peachy is a rose. As for Lorna she's like one of those tropical flowers that Uncle Redvers grows in his conservatory. How does Vin like being at the office? Are you straight yet at the flat? Come and see me as soon as ever you can, because I'm a little bit lonesome and wanting my home folks, though I wouldn't confess it to any of these girls for the world.

  "Heaps of love to Dad and Vin and your dear self.

  "From

  "RENIE."

  If Irene, who had found her niche in a congenial set at the VillaCamellia, was capable of feeling the pangs of homesickness, thatunpleasant malady exhibited itself with far more serious symptoms in thecase of another new girl who had entered the school upon the same day.Desiree Legrand could not settle down among the juniors. She was used tothe society of grown-up people, and did not take kindly to youngcompanions. In the excitement of her own affairs Irene had hardly giventhe child a thought since her arrival, but one afternoon, when enjoyinga solitary ramble round the garden, she suddenly came face to face withLittle Flaxen. She was shocked at the change in her; the once pinkcheeks were white and pasty, and her eyelids were red and swollen as ifwith perpetual crying.

  "Hello! Whatever have you been doing to yourself?" exclaimed Irene."You look rather a bunch of misery, don't you? What's the matter?"

  Desiree, squatting forlornly on the steps that led to the upper tenniscourts, produced a lace-bordered pocket-handkerchief and mopped hereyes.

  "Nobody loves me here!" she blurted out dramatically. "I'm justwr-r-r-etched! They all laugh and call me Frenchie! I'm not French, andI w-w-ant to be l-l-oved!"

  Irene looked at her and shook her head.

  "That's not the way to go about it I'm afraid. I'm sorry, but you knowyou'll just _invite_ teasing if you carry on like this. Can't you braceup and be sporty? Pretend you don't mind anything they say and they'llsoon stop."

  "But I _do_ mind!" sobbed the tragic little figure on the steps. "I mindd-d-dreadfully! Why are they all so horrid to me? People have alwaysbeen so nice till I came here!"

  "That's exactly the reason," said Irene, grasping the situation andexplaining it truthfully. "You've been accustomed to be petted byeverybody, and after all why _should_ the other girls in your form petyou? You don't pet _them_, do you?"

  "N-n-o!"

  Desiree's eyes were round with amazement.

  "Well, can't you see school's a matter of give and take? If you dosomething for the rest they'll possibly like you, but they won't fall onyour neck just out of sheer good nature. Why don't you write home for abox of chocolates and offer them round your form?"

  "I never thought of it. I had some chocolates--but--I ate them!"

  "There you are! You expected to get all the attention and give nothing.Sorry if I seem brutal, but it's the solid truth. You take my advice andcheer up instead of continually sniveling. I've been at school myselfsince I was seven, and I know a thing or two. If a girl's popularthere's generally some reason behind it. Look here, I'll help you if Ican. Those kids over there are doing nothing. I'll get them to come andplay rounders, choose you for a partner, and I'll back our side to win.Here's Peachy! Perhaps she'll join in too. I'll ask her."

  Irene rapidly explained her philanthropic intentions, and enlisted bothPeachy and Delia in her team. The juniors, amazed and flattered at aninvitation from older girls, were ready enough for a game. Ireneinsisted upon the innovation of what she called "hunting in couples,"that is to say, dividing the company into partners who made the coursehand in hand. She took good care to choose Desiree for her"running-mate," and as they were both fleet of foot they scoredconsiderably. By the time the bell rang they had beaten the records.

  "Look here!" said Irene, addressing the juniors before they scootedaway, "you kids are missing a chance. Why don't you make Desiree trainfor the sports? She can run like a hare! With the start she'd get as ajunior she might win you a trophy. Hadn't it ever entered your sillyyoung noddles to see what she could do for your form? Well, you are aset of slackers! That's my opinion of you. We manage our affairs betterin the Transition."

  "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" gasped Little Flaxen, lingering a moment ortwo behind the others. "You've been just great! I'll write to Dadto-night to send me some chocs, and I won't eat a single one myself.They shall have them all. They shall really!"

  With scarlet cheeks and shining eyes she was a different child from theweeping Niobe who had sat and sobbed on the steps.

  "Now if I'd simply coddled her and sympathized she'd have cried a fewgallons more and have been no better off," mused Irene, as her protegeedanced away. "I fancy those juniors have been fairly nasty to her,though I wouldn't tell her so. Something ought to be done about it, butthe question is 'what?' I want to have a talk with Peachy when I canwedge in ten minutes of spare time."

  All evening remembrance of Little Flaxen's red eyes and white cheekshaunted Irene. She felt it ought not to have been possible for the childto be so lonely and neglected. Granted that her unpopularity might bepartly her own fault, boycotting was nevertheless hard to bear. It wasclearly somebody's business to have looked after her, and that dutyought not to have devolved upon a newcomer like herself, who onlyrealized the necessity by the merest chance.

  "What's the use of the prefects?" Irene asked herself, but she gave upthe answer, and appealed to Peachy at breakfast-time instead.

  That cheery young American took the matter more seriously than Ireneexpected. There was a very kind little heart hidden under her bubbles offun.

  "I'll call a meeting of the Camellia Buds right now," she declared. "Iguess we don't want any of those poor babes crying their eyes out. Talkof homesickness! You should have seen me my first week here. I broughtfour dozen pocket-handkerchiefs to school with me and I used them all.It's not good enough! Prefects, did you say? Humph! I don't call Rachelexactly laid out for this job. Bring your biscuits to the 'Grotto' atinterval, and we'll have a powwow about it."

  There was a twenty-minute mid-morning break between classes, duringwhich the girls ate lunch and amused themselves as they pleased in thehouse or grounds. The biscuits, three apiece, were laid out in rows onthe dining-room table together with each pupil's glass of milk. As Ireneran in to take her portion she heard a scrimmage going on at the otherend of the room. Several small girls were quarreling loudly, and abovethe noise came Desiree's piping, high-pitched voice:

  "I haven't had a biscuit for days and it isn't fair."

  "What's all this about?" asked Irene, striding into the crowd just intime to see Mabel and another member of the Transition pass, laughing,through the lower door.

  There was a babel in reply.

  "Those big girls come and grab our biscuits!"

 
"It's a shame of them!"

  "There ought to be three apiece!"

  "And there never are!"

  "It's something if you get two!"

  "Nancy's taken both mine!"

  "Honest injun, I haven't!"

  "I tell you I'm famished!"

  "Help! Don't all shout at once," decreed Irene. "Let's have a biscuitparade. Each hold out what she's got. Here, Audley, hand one of yoursover to Francie. Effie, break that one in half and share with Chris.Desiree, you may have mine this morning, but this business mustn'thappen again. I've no time to stop now, but I'll inquire into this, youbet!"

  Leaving an only partially satisfied group of small girls behind herIrene sped to her tryst in the garden. She took a short cut, and ranthrough the orange grove, where the half-ripe oranges were beginning toturn yellow on the trees, then shamelessly jumping over a flower borderof stocks and primulas, crossed under the rose-pergola, turned down acreeper-covered side alley, and found herself in a neglected portion ofthe grounds. Here there was a very dilapidated little arbor, built sixtyor seventy years ago when the Villa Camellia had been owned by anItalian count with a weakness for the fine arts. The roof leaked, and ariot of jessamine almost hid the door; the window-sill had fallen, andthe floor was a mass of dead leaves. The plastered walls were paintedwith frescoes--faded and moldy now--of a country chateau with cypresstrees, and three ladies in big plumed hats riding on white horses, and agentleman in shooting costume and tall boots, who wore side whiskers,and carried a gun, and had four hunting dogs standing in a row behindhim. All these were rather stiff and badly painted, yet gave an air ofneglected grandeur to the grotto. There were marble seats, and a ricketymarble table, and a little broken statue of Cupid in the corner, and thefloor under the rubbish was of blue glazed tiles, so that the building,though fallen on evil days, still showed some remnants of its formerglory. As it was in an out-of-the-way spot and far from the tenniscourts, it was not often visited, and had therefore been appropriated bythe Camellia Buds as a suitable place for the secret meetings of theirsorority.

  The nine were all assembled here waiting impatiently for Irene. Shebrushed through the jessamine-covered doorway, took her seat, andbreathlessly explained the reason of her delay.

  "Would you have believed such meanness?" she ended.

  Peachy nodded solemnly.

  "I told you some of our precious Transition would make you blush. Wasit Bertha? I thought so! I knew she had got hold of Mabel. I believethey're buddies, and a charming pair they'll be! We shall have to tacklethem somehow. This certainly can't be allowed to go on."

  "Isn't it a case for the prefects?" asked Irene, addressing thePresident.

  Agnes's forehead was drawn into a series of puckers.

  "We hate telling," she sighed. "The fact is the prefects in this schoolaren't quite what they ought to be. They _think_ they do their duty, butthey're too aloof and high-handed and bossing, and the consequence isthey're not popular, and the girls would as soon complain to a teacheras to Rachel or Sybil or Erica. It simply isn't done. Yet those kidsneed a champion. There are several abuses among them that I've noticedmyself."

  "Guess we've got to take it on then and 'champ'," murmured Delia.

  "Poor little souls, it's a shame to steal their 'bikkies'; we'll have tostand over them and act as fairy godmothers," said Sheila.

  Peachy bounced suddenly in her seat.

  "Sheila Yonge, you've given me an idea--yes, an absolute brain-throb.What the Camellia Buds ought to do is to turn the sorority into anAmalgamated Society of Fairy Godmothers, and each of us take over ajunior to look after and act providence to. It's what those kids arejust aching for--only they mayn't know it. What good are prefects tothem except as bogies? They skedaddle like lightning if they see so muchas Rachel's shadow. They each ought to have one older girl whom they cancount on as a friend."

  "A kind of buddy?"

  "Something of the sort, but more like a foster-mother."

  "I vote we ask them all to a candy party, and each adopt one," suggestedDelia warmly.

  "There are ten of us, and there are nineteen juniors," calculated Jess."How's it going to work out?"

  "Why, some of us must take twins or even triplets," decreed Peachy. "I'mbursting to begin. Let's have that candy party right away. Can anybodyraise a lira or two?"

  "We'll give you our subscriptions back in the house, if you'll acttreasurer and wheedle Antonio. Fairy Godmothers, Limited! It's a brainynotion. When shall you ask those kids? You bet they'll buzz in likebees."

  The loud clanging of the garden bell, which seemed to punctuate life atthe Villa Camellia, broke up the meeting in a hurry and scattered itsmembers in the direction of their classrooms. At the first opportunity,however, Irene unlocked her cash-box and took out a contribution towardsthe candy party. She was not yet used to the Italian paper money, andhad only a vague idea of its value, but she judged that two lire was theexpected amount, and carried it accordingly to Peachy's dormitory.

  "You white angel! It's a bountiful 'contrib.' I've squared Antonio.He'll leave the parcel inside the grotto. What we should do without thatdear old man I can't imagine. I've told the juniors, and they're simplycrazy to come. I've fixed it up for directly after tea."

  Antonio, the old concierge who had charge of the gate, was absolutelyfaithful to his duties as porter, and guarded the Villa Camellia aszealously as a convent, but he was lenient on one point--he was willingsometimes to smuggle sweets, and those girls who knew how to coax couldinduce him to make an expedition to the confectioner's and fetch them asmall private store of what delicacies they fancied. He had his ownideas of how much was good for them, and would never be responsible formore than a limited allowance; neither would he undertake more than onecommission per week for any single girl. It was a matter of favor, andto some of the pupils he would only grunt a refusal. Peachy, however,was a champion wheedler; she had a certain command over the Italianlanguage, and could persuade Antonio, in his native tongue, of theabsolute necessity of her demands. He was quite generous on thisoccasion, and slipped a fair-sized parcel of mixed Neapolitan bonbonsinto the sanctuary of the deserted summer-house.

  Nineteen interested juniors, bidden to an unwonted entertainment,dodged their prefect after tea, evaded a basket-ball practice, scatteredthemselves in the grounds, met in the long pergola, and proceeded to thejessamine-covered arbor, where they were received politely by their tenhostesses. It was, of course, impossible to accommodate them inside, butthe grotto was close to the place where Paolo, the gardener, choppedwood for the stoves, so there were plenty of logs lying about thatserved as seats. In a very short time the guests were settled,hospitality was handed round, the colored papers were removed from thegoodies, and there was a general abandonment to sticky satisfaction.Between the first and second distributions Agnes, as President of theSorority, addressed the meeting.

  "We've a proposition to make to you all," she began. "There are somethings in this school that aren't always quite what they ought to be,and it's rather hard for juniors to fight their own battles. Sometimesyou squabble among yourselves--oh, _I_ know!--and sometimes you get ithot from the seniors or the Transition. Well, we're going to help you.Each of us means to take on one or more of you and be a sort of fairygodmother to you, and responsible for seeing you're decently treated. Iunderstand there's been a little trouble about your lunch biscuits?"

  "It's Bertha!"

  "And Mabel!"

  "They're real mean!"

  "They simply grab them!"

  "Oh, do please stop it!"

  "And we haven't had our turns at the tennis courts!"

  "And Winnie borrowed my paint-box and won't give it back!"

  Agnes held up a hand to stop the general clamor.

  "That'll do!" she decreed. "I'm going to sort you out and give you eachto your fairy godmother, and you may pour your woes into her ears, andshe'll try her level best to right your wrongs. No, you _mayn't_ saywhom you'd like to have. It's _we_ who'll do the choosing, than
ks!Anybody who's not satisfied can walk off and she won't get a champion atall or any more candy either. I mean what I say."

  Such an awful threat reduced the juniors to order, and they submittedquite peaceably to be apportioned among their various benefactresses.Irene secured Little Flaxen, Lorna had a pair of solemn-eyed sisters,Peachy pounced upon the liveliest trio and proclaimed them as hertriplets, and Delia adopted the two youngest as twins.

  "You can come to us at a pinch," explained Agnes, "but please rememberwe're Fairy Godmothers, _Limited_. We'll fight any just crusade, butwe're not going to write your exercises for you, or pull you out ofscrapes when you don't deserve it. That's not our function. There, youunderstand? Hand the candy again, somebody. There's another piece eachall round at least, and if there are any over I'll throw them up and youshall scramble for them."

  The immediate effect of this mission of the Camellia Buds was a decidedimprovement in the conditions of the juniors. Next morning, atlunch-time, a stern-faced contingent mounted guard over the biscuits,and when Bertha and Mabel, plainly bent on piracy, sauntered down theroom, they were told certain unpalatable home truths, and ignominiouslyput to rout.

  "Stop that instanter!" commanded Peachy.

  "We're here to see fair play!" snarled Jess.

  "Be content with your own portions!" flared Delia.

  "Well, really! Who asked you to boss _us_?" retorted Bertha angrily.

  "Nobody; but we're going to stop your mean tricks, so we give youwarning. You two are a disgrace to the Transition. I don't know whatflags you class yourselves under, but I'm sure neither America norBritain would be proud to own you--you biscuit-snatchers!"

  Peachy's eyes were snapping sparks, and the matter might have waxed evenwarmer had not Rachel reentered the room for a pencil she had dropped.The head prefect pricked up her ears at the sound of the disturbance,whereupon Mabel and Bertha, who knew they would receive short shrift ifshe demanded an explanation, made a hasty exit, merely murmuring to Jessand Peachy as they pushed past them:

  "We'll pay you out for this!"

  "Just you wait!"