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Tom and Some Other Girls: A Public School Story

<h3>Chapter Fourteen.</h3> <h4>The “Revels.”</h4> One of the Hurst Manor institutions was a whole holiday on the first Saturday in June, which was technically known as “Revels.” The holiday had been inaugurated partly to celebrate the coming of summer, and partly as a kindly distraction for the students, who at this season of the year were apt to be too absorbingly engrossed in the coming examinations. Old pupils declared that at no other time was the Principal so indulgent and anxious to second the girls’ fancies, while the particular form of entertainment was left entirely to their discretion. When the programme was drawn up it was submitted to Miss Bruce for approval, but, as she had never been known to object, the consultation was more a matter of form than necessity. To Rhoda’s surprise, she found her name among those of the General Committee posted on the notice board, and the delight and pride consequent thereon diverted her thoughts into a new channel, and were as good as a tonic to her nervous system. It was a compliment to have been chosen, for the dozen girls had been drawn from all five houses, and Irene Grey and herself were the only representatives of the Blues. “It’s a beauty competition, evidently. Can’t think why they haven’t asked me!” was Tom’s comment; but Rhoda felt convinced that she had been selected because of the dramatic abilities which she had exhibited on more than one of the Thursday “Frolics,” and was not far wrong in her surmise. She had, in truth, a keen eye for effect, a power of manufacturing properties, and of learning and even inventing suitable rhymes, which were invaluable in organising an entertainment. “And besides,” said the Games Captain to her Secretary, “there’s her back hair! She has really admirable back hair!” The Committee held their meetings in the study of the Head Green, and anxiously discussed their programme. On previous years they had held Gymkhanas and various kinds of picnics, but the ambition was ever to hit on something so original and startling as to eclipse all that had previously been attempted. They racked their brains and gazed helplessly at the ceiling, while the Chairwoman begged for remarks, after the manner of all Committees since the world began. Then, at last, someone hazarded a suggestion, someone else took it up and added a fresh idea; and the ball, once set rolling, grew bigger and bigger, until, at last, there it was, complete and formed before them! It was a charming programme—quite charming! They were full of admiration for their own cleverness in inventing it, and away they flew, smiling and confident, to consult Miss Bruce in her sanctum. The Principal read the sheet handed to her, and the corners of her lips twitched in humorous fashion. She looked across at the twelve eager young faces, and smiled a slow, kindly smile. “It sounds very charming!” she said; “I am sure it would be most entertaining, but—would it not involve a great deal of preparation? Do you think you have realised how much work you will have?” “Oh yes, Miss Bruce, but we can manage it easily!” cried the Chairwoman. “We can get as many helpers as we like in game hours, and you always allow us an afternoon off to make preparations.” “Certainly, certainly! You can do nothing without time. Very well, then, if you think you can manage, I have no objection. You have my permission to ask the carpenter and gardeners to help you, and if anything is needed, one of the governesses shall go into town to make your purchases.” Nothing could have been more gracious. The Committee gave a unanimous murmur of acknowledgment, and were immediately smitten with embarrassment. So long as one has something to say it is easy to retain self-confidence, but, when the business is finished, the necessity of saying good-bye and beating a retreat becomes fraught with terror to the timid guest. The girls felt that it would be discourteous to retire without speaking another word, but what to say they could not think, so they huddled together beside the door, and waited to be dismissed, which they presently were in the kindest of manners. “I shall look forward with great pleasure to the performance. Success to your efforts! You will have plenty to do, so I won’t detain you any longer. Good afternoon!” The Committee retired in haste, gasped relief in the corridor, and promptly set about collecting forces for the furtherance of its aim. They enlisted the sympathies of the workmen engaged in the grounds, selected parties of amateur gardeners to supplement their efforts, and chose the forty prettiest girls in the school to be on the “acting staff.” Each new worker was pledged to secrecy, as surprise was to be the order of the day, and a certain portion of the grounds was marked off by placards bearing the announcement that “Trespassers would be persecuted!” A casual observer might have imagined a slip of the pen in this last word, but the girls knew better. It would be persecution, indeed, and of no light nature, which would be visited upon a willing violator of that order. For the next ten days preparations went on busily, both outdoors and in the various studies. Lessons, of course, could not be interrupted, but the hours usually devoted to games, added to odd five minutes of leisure, made up a not inconsiderable total. The onlookers reported eagerly among themselves that the dancing mistress had been pressed into the service, and that sundry mysterious boxes had been sent to the leading members of the Committee from their various homes. Everyone was agreed that “It” was to be very grand, and they prepared to enjoy the entertainment in a hearty, but duly critical fashion; for when we ourselves have not been asked to take part in an enterprise, pride has no better consolation than to think how much more successful it would have been in happier circumstances! The Committee announced that, should the weather prove unpropitious, a modified form of the proposed entertainment would be given in Great Hall, but no one seriously contemplated such a catastrophe. Providence was so invariably kind to “Revels” that the oldest student could not recall a day that had been less than perfect, and this year was no exception to the rule. The air was soft, the sky was blue, the grass, unscorched as yet by the heat of summer, of a rich emerald green, the sunshine sent flickering shadows over the paths; it was one of those perfect days when our native land is seen at its best; and when England is at her best, go east or west, or where you will, you can find no place to equal it! Every single inmate of school came down to breakfast with a smile on her face, for this was a day of all play and no work, and as the formal entertainment did not take place until three o’clock, the whole morning remained in which to laze after one’s heart’s desire. Even the Committee were so well on with their preparations that by eleven o’clock they were free to join their friends, and Rhoda looked eagerly round for Miss Everett. No one had seen her, however, and a vague report that she was “headachy” sent the searcher indoors to further her inquiries. She found the study door closed, but a faint voice bade her enter, and there on the sofa lay Miss Everett with a handkerchief bound round her head. She looked up and smiled at Rhoda’s entrance, and said immediately: “Do you want me, dear? Can I do anything to help you?” “So likely that I would let you, isn’t it?” returned Rhoda scornfully. “What is the matter? Is your head bad?” “Yes! No! It isn’t really so very bad, but one seems to give way when there is nothing to do. If it had been an ordinary day I should have gone on with my work, and even played games. I have managed to get through many a time when I’ve been worse than this; but it’s a luxury to lie still and rest. I—I’m enjoying it very much!” “You look like it!” said Rhoda shortly, noting with sharp eyes the flushed cheeks, the drops of tell-tale moisture on the eyelashes. “This room is like an oven, and it will get worse and worse as the day goes on. Now, it’s my turn to order you about, and you’ve got to obey. Get up and put on your hat, and come out with me!” “Rhoda, I can’t! It’s cruel! I can’t walk about. Do—do let me rest when I get a chance. I’m so tired!” “You are not going to walk about; you are going to rest better than you could ever do here, so don’t worry and make objections. Here’s your hat, and here’s my arm, and please come along without any more arguing. You’ll be thankful to me when I get you nicely settled!” “When!” echoed Miss Everett ungratefully; but she was too languid to oppose the girl’s strong will, so she sat up, put on her hat, and allowed herself to be led downstairs and into the grounds. The girls were scattered about under the trees, but Rhoda skirted round the paths so as to avoid them as much as possible, and presently came to a sheltered spot, where Dorothy lay swinging to and fro in a most superior Canadian hammock which had been sent from Erley Chase at the beginning of the summer weather. She peered over the edge as footsteps approached and Rhoda cried briskly: “Tumble out, Dorothy! I said you could have it until I needed it myself, and I want it now for Miss Everett. She has a headache, and is going to rest here until lunch. Now then, I’ll shake up the pillows, and if you don’t say it is the most delicious hammock you ever lay in, I shan’t think much of your taste. I’ll put up the parasol and tuck it into the ropes—so!—that you may feel nice and private if anyone passes. Now then, how’s that? Isn’t that comfy? Isn’t that an improvement on the stuffy little study?” Miss Everett rested her head on the cushion, and drew a long breath of enjoyment. “It’s—beautiful! It’s perfect. I’m so happy! I never want to move again.” “You are not to move until I tell you. Go fast asleep, and I’ll promise faithfully to wake you in time for lunch. We must have you well for the afternoon, you know. I’d be heart-broken if you didn’t see me in my grand—. Never mind, that’s a secret, but you will rest, won’t you? You will be good, and do as you are told?” “Kiss me!” replied Miss Everett simply, lifting her dark eyes to the girl’s face with an appeal so sweet that it would have touched a heart of stone. No sooner was the kiss given, than down fell the eyelids, and Rhoda crept away realising that sleep, the best of medicines, was indeed near at hand. She herself spent a happy morning lying flat on her back on the grass in company with half a dozen other girls, discussing the affairs of the world in general, the blatant follies of grown-ups, and the wonderful improvements which would take place when they in their turn came into power. Rhoda was specially fervid in denunciation, and her remarks were received with such approval that it was in high good temper that she went to awaken the sleeper from her two hours’ nap. Miss Everett declared that she felt like a “giant refreshed,” had not a scrap of pain left, and had enjoyed herself so much that if “Revels” ended there and then, she would still consider it an historic occasion, which was satisfactory indeed. But there was more to follow! There was a great dressing up in the cubicles after lunch, the girls making their appearance in pique skirts and crisp new blouses, and rustling into the grounds, all starch and importance. The “persecuting placards” had been withdrawn, and replaced by others directing the visitors’ steps in the right direction. They followed meekly, “This way to the Opening Ceremony!” and found themselves on the south side of the lake, where a semicircle of chairs had been set for the teachers, and gaily-hued rugs spread on the grass to protect the freshness of the pique skirts. Here, no doubt, was the place appointed, but where was the Ceremony? The girls took their places, and began to clap in impatient fashion, speculating vaguely among themselves. “What’s going to happen now? Why do we face this way where we can’t see anything except the lake? There’s the landing place opposite—perhaps they are going to play water-polo? It wouldn’t be bad fun in this weather.” “I think some one should have been here to receive us. It’s rude to let your guests arrive without a welcome. If I had been on the Committee— What’s that—?” “What? Oh, music! But where—where? It is growing nearer. It’s a violin, and a ’cello—and someone singing. This grows mysterious! Oh, I say—Look! look to the right! To the right! Oh, isn’t it romantic and lovely?” <ANTIMG src="images/tgirl157.jpg" alt=""> The girls craned forward, and cried aloud in delight, for round the corner of the lake was slowly coming into view a wonderful, rose-wreathed barque, with Youth at the prow and Pleasure at the helm, clad in the most fanciful and quaint of garments. It would have been idle to assert that this wonderful craft was the old school tub, guaranteed to be as safe as a house, and as clumsy as hands would make it; for no one could have been found to listen to such a statement. Garlands of roses fluttered overhead; roses wreathed the sides, pink linings concealed the dark boards, and, as for the occupants, they looked more like denizens of another world than practical, modern-day schoolgirls. The oarswomen stood at their post, wearing pale green caps over their flowing locks, and loose robes of the same colour. The musicians were robed in pink, with fillets of gauze tied round their heads, and underneath the central awning sat a gorgeous figure who was plainly the Queen of the Ceremony. Amidst deafening applause the boat drew up before the landing-stage, and, while the oarswomen stood to attention, the central figure alighted, and moved slowly forward until she stood in front of the semicircle of watchers. “It’s Rhoda Chester!” gasped the girls incredulously, pinching their neighbours’ arms in mingled excitement and admiration; and Rhoda Chester in truth it was, transformed into a glorified vision, far removed from the ordinary knickerbockered, pigtailed figure associated with the name. A white robe swept to the ground, the upper skirts necked over with rose-leaves of palest pink; in the right hand she bore a sceptre of roses, and a wreath of the same flowers crowned her head. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she bore herself with an erect, fearless mien which justified her companions’ choice. When it had become necessary to apportion the rôle of “Mistress June” the Committee had unanimously agreed that it would be safest in Rhoda’s hands. She would not quail at the critical moment, mumble her words, nor forget her duties; but, on the contrary, would rise to the occasion, and find the audience a stimulus to her powers. It was her genius also which had invented the verses for recitation, so that there seemed a double reason for giving her the place of honour. So Rhoda had sent home an imperious dressmaking order, and here she was, dainty as loving care could make her, her flaxen mane streaming over her shoulders, the sceptre extended in welcome—as fair a personation of “Mistress June” as one need wish to see— <blockquote> “Friends and companions, and our teachers dear We give you welcome to our kingdom here. Once more has kindly summer come to stay, And Mistress June resumes her wonted sway. We are your hosts, and to our leafy bowers We welcome you to spend the sunny hours; In happy revels we will all unite, In song, and dance, and ancient pastimes bright; All cares forgotten, labours laid aside, Hearts turned to joy, and glad eyes open wide To watch, as when bright fay and sportive faun Wove their gay dances on the woodland lawn. Alas! the stress of higher education Has vanished these, the poet’s fond creation. But nature—not to be denied—has sent Yet fairer forms for gladsome merriment, Who wait my nod. The beauty of the nation Are gathered here to win your approbation. But you grow weary—Hither, maidens all, Forth from your bowers, responsive to my call, With roses crowned, let each and all advance, And let the Revels start with song and dance!” </blockquote> It was astonishing how well it sounded, recited with an air, and to an accompaniment of smiles and waving hands. Little Hilary Jervis, the youngest girl in the school, remarked rhapsodically that it was “Just like a pantomime!” and the finale to the address was so essentially dramatic that her elders were ready to agree with her decision. Rhoda backed gracefully to the spot where her flower-decked chair had been placed by her attendants, and having taken her seat, clapped her hands as a signal to her handmaidens. Instantly from behind the shelter of the trees there tripped forward a band of pink and green-robed figures, bearing in their hands garlands of many-coloured roses. The roses were but paper, it is true, and of the flimsiest manufacture, but at a little distance the effect could not have been improved, and when the dance began to the accompaniment of music “on the waters” the effect was charming enough to disarm the most exacting of critics. It was an adaptation of the “scarf dance” practised by the pupils, but the dresses, the circumstances, the surroundings added charm to the accustomed movements, and there were, of course, deviations from the original figures, noticeably at the end, when, with a simultaneous whirling movement, the dancers grouped themselves round their Queen, holding up their skirts so as to entirely conceal their figures. The greens were on the outside, the pinks arranged in gradually deepening lines, and Rhoda’s smiling face came peeping out on top; it was evident to the meanest intellect that the final tableau was intended to represent a rose, and—granted a little stretch of imagination—it was really as much like it as anything else! This first item of the programme over, the dancers grouped themselves in attitudes of studied grace, while little green-robed heralds led the way to what, for want of a more high-flown name, was termed “The Rose Bower,” where various sports and competitions had been organised. Roses were, indeed, conspicuous by their absence; but there was an archery ground, an amateur Aunt Sally (clad, one regrets to state, in the garb of a University Examiner!) and many original and amusing “trials of skill.” Tom came off victorious in an obstacle race, in the course of which the competitors had to pick up and set in order a prostrate deck chair, correctly add up a column of figures, unravel a knotted rope, and skip with it for fifteen or twenty yards, thread a needle, and hop over the remaining portion of the course; while Dorothy, who held a stick poised in her hand, called out in threatening tones, “You would pluck me in arithmetic, would you? Take that!” and let fly with such energy that the “Examiner” fell in fragments to the ground. It was a scene of wild hilarity, for even the teachers threw off their wonted airs of decorum, and entered into the spirit of the occasion, and to see severe Miss Mott throwing for cocoa-nuts, and fat little Fraulein hopping across the lawn, were by no means the least entertaining items in the programme. Rhoda sat enthroned on her rose-wreathed chair, looking on at the revels, well content with idleness since it was the badge of superiority. The pleasantest part of her duties was still to come, and the girls realised for what purpose the sixpence-a-head contribution had been levied by the Games Captains, as they saw the prizes which were awarded the successful competitors. No one-and-eleven-penny frames this time; no trashy little sixpence-three-farthing ornaments; nor shilling boxes supplied with splinty pencils and spluttering pens; but handsome, valuable prizes, which any girl might be proud to possess. Dorothy was presented with an umbrella with a silver handle; another lucky winner received the most elegant of green leather purses, with what she rapturously described as “scriggles of gold” in the corners; Tom won a handsome writing-case, and a successful “Red” the daintiest little gold bangle, with six seed pearls encircling a green stone, concerning the proper name of which it was possible to indulge in endless disputations. Rhoda was in her element distributing these gifts, and afterwards in leading the way towards the pavilion, which had been transformed into a veritable bower by the hands of willing workers, and in which were displayed a supply of the most luxurious refreshments. Miss Bruce had contributed generously towards the afternoon’s entertainment, and as the girls sat about upon the grass, and were waited upon by the “Rose Maidens,” no one had need to sigh in vain for “something nice.” The choice of good things was quite bewildering, and little Hilary Jervis was reported to have reverted twice over from coffee to lemonade, and to have eaten an ice-cream and a ham sandwich in alternate bites. She was blissfully happy, however, and so was everyone else, and when at last Mistress June returned to her Barque, and the singers started the first notes of “Good Night,” two hundred voices took up the strain with a strength and precision which made the unrehearsed effect one of the most striking in the programme. And so ended “Revels”—the happiest day which many of the students were to know for long weeks to come. <hr></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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