Part 17 (1/2)
Despair, thick and black, settled over the erstwhile politicians.
”But she could soon be back,” offered the sympathetic Molly. ”Hark!
There's a car now.”
The door opened slightly, and the portal framed a figure in blue! With a wild rush the committee of two dashed to the door.
”Jane! Jane Allen!” called both, verifying their suspicion with a tug at the now shrinking Jane.
”You are elected!” predicted Judith. ”Come right along, and accept.
Resign later if you must, but accept now or we are lost.”
”One moment--” panted Jane. It was evident she had been experiencing some trouble. She was flushed and excited.
”We haven't the moment,” insisted Judith. ”They are waiting for us with the votes held up. Come on, Jane. Be a sport!” and like two young giants the hitherto ordinary girls a.s.sumed the role of baggage men and picked up Jane bodily, carrying her off to the expectant election room.
”Clear the way! She comes! Lo! The conquering hero comes!” shouted the crowd at the first glimpse of the triumphant entry.
”Are you ready for the question?” called the election clerk, taking up her delayed cue with alacrity.
”Question!” went up a shout.
”The result of the ballot is the unanimous election of Jane Allen, president of Cla.s.s 1920!”
Wild cheers completely submerged Oak Hall charging the atmosphere like a veritable tidal wave.
The first great rush and roar over, the still billowing tide surged and splashed into the inevitable cla.s.s yell:
”I know a girl and her name is Jane, A reebald, ribald rowdy; The second verse is just the same, A reebald, ribald rowdy!”
Thus, the improvised cla.s.s yell, went on one verse after another all being ended ”Just the same” until throats gave out and feet merely pounded, or patted, and kept the echoing time. Finally Jane was accorded an opportunity of making herself heard, although it was rather a meager opportunity, and uncertain in spots. She had just risen to her feet when a cry from the ”left wing” got the floor.
”We challenge this election!” shouted the opposition, led by Lillian Summers. ”The candidate never accepted.”
”She is here to accept,” fired back Judith as spokesman for the right.
”I accept the candidacy,” promptly called Jane, to the intense delight and utter surprise of her strongest advocates. She had declared all along she would not run. Even Judith was now thoroughly astounded.
”Hurrah, hurray! horroo!” rang out the call. Then the unquenchable:
”A reebald, ribald rowdy!
The hundredth verse is just the same--”
Judith pounded for order and after a few ”flare-ups” had been extinguished, she, as spokesman, went on with the proceedings.
All this time Judith and her followers were at a loss to account for Marian Seaton. It was just like her to go off in comfort and expect her abject contingent to do her troublesome bidding, and certainly, no one could mistake the hand that ran the opposition; yet in spite of that argument Marian might reasonably be expected to lend a hand through the unexpected difficulty, and, at least, give the s.h.i.+p a push to start it out on the troubled waters. But no Marian was either seen or heard.
Once more gaining what subst.i.tuted for quiet Judith took the floor. She was surprising herself with the newly acquired efficiency she so deliberately demonstrated.
”We are fully prepared to submit to our officials all the records of these proceedings, which have resulted in the election of Jane Allen cla.s.s president,” she proclaimed without a pause. ”We can show that every vote is properly signed, and that the report of the nominating committee, and the acceptance of the candidate, complied with the time rules. Our clerks will be happy to meet the faculty, at any time named by that honorable body, and then and there produce the proofs of our sincerity and obedience to the honorable rules of our beloved Wellington.”