A Popular Schoolgirl by Angela Brazil (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📕

chum’s glumness, for she came presently and took Ingred’s arm.

“I’ve something to tell you, Ingred,” she whispered. “We are to have the election on Friday afternoon, and everybody’s saying you’ll be chosen warden for the form.”

“Don’t suppose I’ve the remotest chance!” grunted Ingred gloomily.

“Nonsense! Don’t be a bluebottle! Cheery-ho! In my opinion you’ll just have an easy walk over.”

With the removal into the new building, Miss Burd had instituted many innovations and changes. Among the most important of these was the College Council, which really served as a sort of House of Parliament for the school. Each form among the seniors and intermediates was to elect a representative called a warden, and these, with such permanent officers as the prefects and the games captain, were to meet once a fortnight to discuss questions of self-government. It was a new experiment, and the head mistress hoped it would give the girls some idea of responsibility, and train them to understand civic duties later on. The girls themselves voted it a “ripping” idea. They took it up most enthusiastically. It would be fun to have elections, and it seemed desirable that there should be a warden to look after the interests of each separate form.

“When I was in the Fourth we never got a chance for the tennis courts, and it was utterly hopeless to appeal to the prefects,” said Ingred. “I always used to feel there ought to be some way of making one’s voice heard.”

“Well, if you’re elected, you’ll have a chance to make your maiden speech!” laughed Verity. “By the by, will there be a ‘Strangers’ Gallery, so that we can come and listen to you? I’d be sorry to miss the fun!”

Friday afternoon had been fixed for the election, and a bright idea originated in Va, circulated through the school, and finally crystallized in the Sixth. It was nothing less than that each form should make a special fête of the affair. Lispeth Scott, the head girl, went boldly to Miss Burd, and asked permission for those who liked to bring thermos flasks, cups, and bags of buns and cakes, and hold parties in the various classrooms.

“It would make so much more of the whole thing,” she urged. “If we simply stop for ten minutes after school and vote, I’m afraid it may fall rather flat. But if every form has its festival to elect its own warden, it will make the council seem a much more important business. We’d like to be allowed to stay till about half-past five, if we may, so that there would be time to have some fun over it. We’d promise not to make a mess with our picnicking.”

Miss Burd, looking rather astonished, nevertheless consented. She was a wise woman, and believed in permitting a certain amount of liberty, within limits.

“You may try it this once,” she conceded. “But it’s on the distinct understanding that you’re all on your good behavior. I shall hold you prefects responsible for controlling the school. If you hear a great noise, you must go into their form-rooms and stop them. I can’t allow the College to be turned into a bear-garden.”

“We won’t! I’ll put them all on their honor to behave, and I’ll leave the door of our form-room open so that I can hear what’s going on. Thank you so much, Miss Burd!”

And Lispeth departed, fearful lest any other qualifications should be added to temper the joy of the proceedings.

Six girls, waiting outside the door to hear the result of the negotiations, waved signals of success to others farther down the corridor, and, in an almost incredibly short space of time, the happy news had spread to the remotest corners of the school.

“But how are we hostelites going to manage our share?” asked Ingred anxiously.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Jess and Francie assured her. “Ten girls in our form have promised to bring thermos flasks, and if we pool to tea there’ll be heaps to go round, and the same with buns and cakes. We’ll each bring a little extra to make enough. The hostel will very likely lend you each a cup if you ask for it. That’s all you’ll need!”

“Right-o! We’ll cast ourselves on the charity of the form!” agreed Ingred.

V The Fifth-Form Fête

By a general indulgence issued from headquarters, the dismissal bell rang at 3:45 the next Friday afternoon, instead of, as usual, at four o’clock. The mistresses entered up the marks, put away their books, said “Good afternoon, girls!” and made their exit, leaving the building for once in the sole possession of the pupils. Miss Strong, indeed, who disapproved of the whole business, took the precaution of locking her desk before her departure, a proceeding which provoked indignant sniffs from the witnesses; but, sublimely indifferent to public opinion, she put the key in her pocket, and stalked from the room. The girls gave her a few moments’ grace to get out of earshot, then broke into a babble of conversation.

“Which are we having first, the election or the tea?”

“Oh, the tea!”

“No, no! Business first and pleasure afterwards.”

“I can’t vote till I’ve had some tea.”

“It’s too early!”

“No, it isn’t! We’re most of us ready for it.”

“Look here!” suggested Ingred. “Let’s settle it this way. Have tea first, then the election, and then some fun afterwards. Don’t you think that would sandwich things best?”

“True, O Queen! I don’t mind what happens afterwards, so long as I get a bun quick!”

“Let’s fetch the prog,” agreed Linda Slater, leading the way towards the cloakroom where the baskets had been stored.

The giggling procession met emissaries from other forms, bent on a like errand, and exchanged a brisk banter as they passed on the stairs.

“We’ve got jam tartlets!”

“Not as nice as our cheese cakes!”

“Nellie’s brought a whole pound of macaroons!”

“Oh! will you swap with us for rock buns?”

“I should just think not!”

“Dolly Arden has five oranges!”

“Well, we’ve got bananas!”

After successfully fetching the provisions, having routed a marauding band of