CHAPTER XVII
The Anglo-Saxon League
There was an old established custom at the Villa Camellia that on theevening of the last day of March (unless that date happened to fall on aSunday) the pupils were allowed special license after supper, and,regardless of ordinary rules, might disport themselves as they pleaseduntil bedtime. Irene, who had not yet been present on one of theseoccasions, heard hints on all sides of coming fun, mingled with mystery.Peachy twice began to tell her something, but was stopped by Delia. Joanand Sheila seemed to be holding perpetual private committee meetings;Elsie spent much time in Jess Cameron's dormitory; and, wonder ofwonders, Esther Cartmell was seen walking arm in arm with Mabel Hughes.Though Irene asked many questions from various friends as to the natureof the evening's amusement she could get no certain information. Theylaughed, evaded direct answers, made allusions to things she did notunderstand, and whisked away like will-o'-the-wisps. Very much puzzled,and not altogether pleased, she sought her buddy.
"They've all gone mad," she assured Lorna. "I can't get a word of senseout of Peachy; Esther was almost nasty, and Jess shut the door in myface. What's the matter with them? Have I developed spots or a squint?Why have I suddenly become a leper?"
Lorna, who was busy with French translation, shut her dictionary with abang.
"I've no patience with them," she groused. "It's because you're English.I suppose we shall have to get up a stunt of our own, just out ofretaliation, but I'm sick of the whole business."
"What _do_ you mean?"
"Why, it's become a sort of custom to make this a nationality night. TheAmerican girls all band together, and so do the South Africans and theAustralians; and the Scotch girls are a _tremendous_ clique of theirown. They play jokes on every one else, and sometimes it almost gets tofighting."
"Between the sororities?"
"Sororities are forgotten for the time being. Your dearest chum in theCamellia Buds will turn against you if it's a question of Scotch orEnglish, or American or British. I advise you to put away everything youvalue. The South Africans came into my cubicle last year and smeared mycold cream over my pillow. Of course your bed will be filled withbrushes and boots, and any hard oddments they can find lying about. Youwon't be able to find anything in the morning. The place is an absolutemuddle."
"How horrid!"
"Yes, it is horrid. I can't see the fun of it, myself. Practical jokescan go too far, in my opinion, and some of those juniors get so roughthey hurt each other. I'd keep out of it only it's wise to stay anddefend your own cubicle, or you'd find your blanket hidden and your soapgone."
"Do the seniors join in?"
"No. They barricade themselves in their bedrooms and have some privatefun, but they leave us to do as we like. It's the Transition and juniorswho play the tricks. Of course, the seniors must know what's going on,because they used to do the same themselves, but they just shut theireyes."
"Oh," said Irene thoughtfully. "And because a thing has always been mustit always be? Can't it ever be altered? Are we _bound_ to do nothing butplay tricks on the last night of March?"
"It ought to be altered. I've a jolly good mind to go to Rachel and tellher my views about it. She's been much nicer lately than she used to be.Perhaps she'd listen. If she doesn't there'd be no harm done, at anyrate. Will you come with me? I don't like going by my little lonesome."
The two girls tapped at the door of dormitory 9, and fortunately foundthe head prefect within and alone. She received them quite graciouslyand listened with interest to what Lorna had to say.
"I'm so thankful you've told me," she said in reply. "I agree with youabsolutely. It's time this silly business was put a stop to. We prefectshave held back because we didn't want to be spoil-sports, but I believeyou really voice the opinion of a good many girls. I used to get verytired of it when I was in the Transition myself. If Miss Rodgers foundout some of the tricks that are played she'd never let us have theholiday again."
"Can't we persuade them to do something else instead--something reallyjolly?"
"We must. I'll think about it. Leave it to me. I've been turning it overin my mind for some time, though my ideas never crystallized. I'll havesome scheme ready. I can depend on you two to support me in theTransition?"
"Rather!"
Rachel, reporting the interview to her fellow prefects, found thementirely in agreement. They were dissatisfied with many things in theTransition and junior forms, and this Nationality evening was consideredthe limit. Something seemed to be needed at the present crisis to weldtogether the various factions of the Villa Camellia, and turn them intoone harmonious whole. The prefects were aware that the varioussororities were really rival societies, and that, though they might givegreat fun and enjoyment to their respective members, they wereproductive of jealousy rather than union.
"We want a common motive," said Rachel. "An inspiration, if possible. Ibelieve some sort of a league would do it. Something outside ourselves,and bigger than just the little world of school. Something that even thesmallest juniors could join, and in which girls who have left couldstill take an interest. It's dawning on me! I believe I've got it! I'mgoing to call it 'The Anglo-Saxon League.' We'll get everybody to join,and fix its first festival for the 31st of March. It should just takethe wind out of those silly nationality tricks. I'll speak to MissRodgers and ask her to let us have a parade and dance, with prizes forthe best costumes. They'd love that, anyhow. I'll call a meeting in thegym and put it to them. I believe it will catch on."
The pupils at the Villa Camellia were not overdone with public meetings.They responded therefore with alacrity to the notice which Rachel, afterobtaining the necessary permission from the authorities, pinned upon theboard in the hall. They were all a little curious to know what shewanted to talk to them about. A few anticipated a scolding, but themajority expected some more pleasant announcement.
"Rachel's wrought up, but she doesn't look like jawing us," was theverdict of Peachy, who had passed the head prefect in the corridor. Someof the seniors constituted themselves stewards and arranged the audienceto their satisfaction, with juniors on the front benches and theTransition behind. When everybody was seated, Rachel stepped on to theplatform and rang the bell for silence. Her cheeks were pink withexcitement and there was a little thrill of nervousness in her voice, asif she were forcing herself to a supreme effort, but this passed as shewarmed to her subject.
"Girls," she began, "I asked you to come here because I want to have atalk with you about our school life. You'll all agree with me that welove the Villa Camellia. It's a unique school. I don't suppose there'sanother exactly like it in the whole world. Why it's so peculiar is thatwe're a set of Anglo-Saxon girls in the midst of a foreign-speakingcountry. We ourselves are collected from different continents--some areAmericans, some English, some from Australia, or New Zealand, or SouthAfrica--but we all talk the same Anglo-Saxon tongue, and we're boundtogether by the same race traditions. Large schools in England orAmerica take a great pride in their foundation, and they play otherschools at games and record their victories. We can't do that here,because there are no foreign teams worth challenging, so we've alwayshad to be our own rivals and have form matches. In a way, it hasn't beenaltogether good for us. We've got into the bad habit of thinking of theschool in sections, instead of as one united whole. I've even heardsquabbles among you as to whether California or Cape Colony or New SouthWales are the most go-ahead places to live in. Now, instead ofscrapping, we ought to be glad to join hands. If you think of it, it's atremendous advantage to grow up among Anglo-Saxon girls from othercountries and hear their views about things. It ought to keep you frombeing narrow, at any rate. You get fresh ideas and rub your corners off.What I want you particularly to think about, is this: it's the duty ofall English-speaking people to cling together. If they've ever had anydifferences it's time they forgot them. The world seems to be in themelting-pot at present, and there are many strange prophecies about thefuture. Black and yellow races are increasing
and growing so rapidlythat they may be ready to brim over their boundaries some day and swampthe white civilizations. Anglo-Saxons ought to be prepared, and to standhand in hand to help one another. I've been reading some queer thingslately. One is that a new continent is slowly rising out of the PacificOcean--Lemuria they call it--and some day, hundreds of years hence,there may be land there instead of water, and people living on it. Theysay too that the center of gravity of both the British Empire and theUnited States is moving towards the Pacific. Sydney may grow moreimportant than London, and San Francisco than New York when the traderoutes make them fresh pivots of energy. Another funny thing I read isthat as the world is changing a new race seems to be emerging. Travelerssay that the modern children in Australia don't look in the least likeEnglish children or French children, or any European nation--they are afresh type. America has been populated by people from practically allthe older countries, but I read that children who are being born therenow differ in their head measurements from babies of the older races.Perhaps some of you may be interested in this and some of you may onlybe bored, but what I want to rub in is that if a new, and perhapssuperior, race is evolving it's surely part of our work to help it on.Here we all are, girls from England, America, and the British Colonies,of the same race and speaking the same language. Let us make anAnglo-Saxon League, and pledge ourselves that wherever we go over theface of the world we will carry with us the best traditions. We're outfor Peace, not War, and Peace comes through sympathy. The women of thosegreat eastern nations, the Chinese, the Japanese, and the Hindoos, whoare only just awakening to a sense of freedom, will look to usWesterners for their example. Can't we hold out the hand of sisterhoodto them, and teach them our highest ideals, so that in the centuries tocome they may be our friends instead of our enemies? It's a case of'Take up the White Man's burden.' We stand together, not as Scotch, orCanadians, or New Zealanders or Americans, but as good Anglo-Saxons, theapostles of peace, not 'frightfulness.'
"I'm going to ask every girl in this room to join the League. There'llbe various activities in connection with it. We haven't decided all yet,but we hope one of them will be to establish a correspondence betweenthis school and other schools in England and the Colonies and inAmerica. We'd like to write letters to their prefects and hear what theyare doing, and have copies of their school magazines. It would be likeshaking hands over the ocean. Then why shouldn't we correspond withgirls in missionary schools in India or China or Japan? Think howexciting to have letters from them and read them aloud. We should hearall about their eastern lives, and all kinds of interesting things.
"Well, these are far-away schemes yet that need a little time toestablish. I've something much nearer to put before you. Miss Rodgershas given us seniors leave to hold a fancy-dress dance on the 31st ofMarch, from 7.30 to 9.30, here in the gym. We invite every girl whojoins the League to come. Nationality costumes will be welcomed. Therewill be first, second, and third prizes for the best dresses. The judgeswill take into consideration the scantiness of the materials available,but they wish to announce that any girl found guilty of borrowingarticles for her costume without the leave of their owners will bedisqualified, and further, that any member of the League convicted ofplaying practical jokes will be expelled from the dance. The prefectsthink it wise and necessary to mention that, though the evening of March31st has been set aside as a holiday and certain rules have beenrelaxed, the school is nevertheless bound to preserve its usual code ofgood manners, and every girl is put on her honor to behave herself. I'msure I need not say more, for you surely understand me, and agree thatwhen Miss Rodgers has allowed us to have this fun we ought not to abuseher kindness. Will every one who's ready to join the League and wants tocome to the dance hold up her hand."
Almost every girl in the room responded to Rachel's invitation.Some--the higher-thinking ones--were attracted by the ideals of theLeague itself; others were merely anxious not to be left out of thefestivities. It was a long time since the school had had a fancy ball.There had been private carnivals in the dormitories, but not a publicofficial affair at which everybody could compete in the way of dresses.Rumor spread like wild-fire round the room. It was whispered that MissMorley herself meant to come, disguised as Hiawatha, that Miss Rodgershad offered a gold wrist-watch as first prize, and that there were yardsof gorgeous materials in the storeroom to be had for the asking. Thethrill of these manifold possibilities was sufficient to eclipse theattractions of their former intentions for the evening's amusement. Itwas really more interesting to evolve costumes than plan tricks. Everytrue daughter of Eve loves to look her best, and womanhood, even in thebud, cannot withstand the supreme magnet of clothes. Little DorisParker, South African hoyden as she was, voiced the general feeling whenshe confessed:
"I'd meant to give those Australians a hot time of it. They may thanktheir stars for the League. Though I'm rather glad I shan't have totease Natalie, because she's my chum. We're both going together assouthern hemispheres. It'll be ripping fun."
The Camellia Buds, who had been temporarily estranged by the impendingnational divisions, returned to the friendly atmosphere of theirsorority, and lent one another garments for the fete.
"It's a good thing Rachel put a stopper on commandeering," commentedDelia. "Mabel was simply shameless at the Carnival. Had anybody told?"
"Sybil and Erica knew; and Rachel isn't really as blind as we thought.At any rate, she's awake now, and a far nicer prefect than she used tobe. By the by, we're to draw lots as to who may borrow out of thetheatrical property box."
"Oh, goody. I hope I'll win. There's a little gray dress there I've setmy heart on. I'll cry oceans if I don't get it," declared Peachy.
"Cheer up, poor old sport! If the luck comes my way I'll try and grab itfor you. I don't need anything for myself, thank goodness."
"You white angel! That's what I call being a real mascot. I'll share mylast dollar with you some day--honest Injun!"
The contents of Miss Morley's theatrical property box, apportionedstrictly by lot, did not go far among fifty-six girls. Miss Rodgersallowed two of the prefects, with a teacher, to make an expedition intoFossato and rummage the shops for some yards of cheap, gay materials,imitation lace, and bright ribbons, which they were commissioned to buyon behalf of certain of their schoolfellows, but most of the dancers hadto contrive their costumes out of just anything that came to hand, oftenexercising an ingenuity that was little short of marvelous. Acting uponRachel's suggestion many of them personified various continents orcountries. The Stars and Stripes of the American flag were conspicuous,and there were several Red Indians, with painted faces and feathers intheir hair.
Sheila, Mary, Esther, and Lorna repeated the costumes they had worn atthe tableau, and went as representatives of Canada, South Africa, India,and New Zealand, but Peachy lent her cowboy costume to Rosamonde, andturned up as Longfellow's "Evangeline," in gray Puritan robe and neatwhite cap, a part which, though very becoming, did not accord with hermischievous, twinkling eyes.
"Not much 'Mayflower Maiden' about you!" giggled Delia.
"Why not?" asked Peachy calmly. "I guess poor Evangeline wasn't alwayson the weep! No doubt she had her lively moments sometimes. I'm showingher at her brightest and best. You ought to give thanks for a newinterpretation of her!"
Winnie Duke scored tremendously by robing in skin rugs as a Canadianbear, while Joan was able to carry out a long-wished-for project andturn herself into a very good imitation of a kangaroo.
Fifty-six girls, arrayed fantastically in all the colors of the rainbow,made a delectable sight as they paraded round the gymnasium. Theprefects had shirked the difficult and delicate task of judging, and hadcalled in Miss Rodgers and Miss Morley to decree who were to receive theprizes. Perhaps they also found the decision too hard, for they chose adozen of the best, put them to the public vote and counted the shows ofhands. Gwen Hesketh, a member of the Sixth, in a marvelously contrivedChinese costume, was first favorite; little Cyntha West, as a delightfulgoblin, secure
d second prize, while the kangaroo, to the satisfaction ofthe Transition, was awarded the third. The gold wristlet watch was ofcourse a myth, and the rewards were mere trifles, but the principals hadrisen to the occasion sufficiently to contribute to the entertainment byproviding lemonade between the dances, which in the opinion of the girlswas a great addition to the festivities, and made the event seem morelike "a real party."
Before they separated, the League formed an enormous circle round theroom and each clasping her neighbor's hand, all joined in the singing of"Auld Lang Syne": cowboy and Indian princess, Redskin and Scotch lassie,Canadian and Jap roared the familiar chorus, and having thus worked offsteam retired to their dormitories and went to bed without breakingtheir pledge of good behavior. Rachel, returning from her round ofsupervision, heaved a sigh of immense relief.
"I was dreading this evening," she confided to Sybil. "I was so afraidthey'd forget their promises and begin that rowdy teasing. I believewe've broken the tradition of that, thank goodness. I hope it may neverbe revived again."
"Thanks to the Anglo-Saxon League!"
"And may _that_ go on and flourish long after _we_ have left the VillaCamellia," added Rachel.
The Jolliest School of All Page 17
