Part 24 (1/2)

”I suppose it is, unless you push it too far for your health.”

”Well, I suppose it does hurt some of the boys and girls once in a while, when they get reckless and try more than they ought to do; but they are all examined, you know, and they have rules. The seniors beat, by the way, so I suppose they're satisfied. It would be hard to be beaten when it was your last year. And, Mother, may I go to the G. A. A.

banquet with Carolyn? And, won't you think twice about going yourself?

Carolyn says that her mother is going and wants to entertain you and me.

I suppose we couldn't get Father there, could we?”

”Oh, no, Betty. He is too busy to take time now for a girls' affair.

Perhaps I can go another year, but not now.”

”Mrs. Gwynne was going to call you up, or come to see you if she could.”

”That will be very kind,” said Mrs. Lee. ”You may go, Betty, but I think that you'd better pay for your own ticket. We shall see what seems polite to do.”

”You see, Mother, honors are distributed that night and we find out who the honor girl is and get whatever we do get for our points.”

This was one of the last events before the ”finals” and Commencement.

Betty, in her ”partiest frock,” came home full of enthusiasm to report that the mystery was a mystery no longer and that Louise Madison ”got the honor ring.” That was the crowning honor and the last thing given.

For the ”first time in history” the freshmen received the baseball chevrons. Betty declared that she wasn't ashamed of being a freshman, but oh, to think that her first year was nearly over! The banquet was simply great, everything so good; and then after it came the speeches and the presenting of awards, while the girls that had done things were ”all excited inside,” and the seniors, of course, all wondering which of them would get the great honor.

”I've decided that I'm going to ride in order to get one of those ducky pins, a silver pin with a tiny black horse and rider, a girl, too, jumping over a bar!”

”Now, isn't that just like a girl!” exclaimed d.i.c.k, who was listening while some of this was being told at the breakfast table.

”It ought to take a very strong motive, d.i.c.ky,” mischievously replied his sister, ”to induce one to make an art of riding! Still, I can stick on a horse out at Grandma's, can't I?”

”Yesand how?” asked d.i.c.k scornfully.

Examination week to some seemed long, indeed, with the longer time allowed for the real tests that had so much to do with pa.s.sing for those who were obliged to take them. Fortunately, Betty had none to take, but it seemed odd, indeed, to wait for grades during examination time and the time given the teachers to correct the important papers. The weather was hot, but it was a good opportunity for last visits or picnics.

Peggy Pollard had one of these at her home, a pretty place in the same suburb which boasted the Gwynne place, but Peggy's home was closer in toward town and not so large as that of the Gwynnes. The house was a simple building, modern, set back among a few handsome trees in a large lot. There was a pool on whose circular cement wall, Betty, Peggy and their friends sat like so many mermaids one hot afternoon. Bathing suits were the appropriate costume for this picnic, Peggy had said. In consequence, the girls came in simple frocks, as cool as they could muster, and brought their bathing suits, caps, slippers and all.

The pool was retired, among the trees and thick bushes where it was cool with shadows, and it was well known and favored among Peggy's friends.

Betty's eyes opened wide when she saw it. Good friends as they had been, this was the first time that Peggy had entertained her.

”How did you happen to have such a _big_ one, Peggy?” one of the girls asked, voicing Betty's thought.

”Why, there were so many boys and they wanted it big enough for real diving and swimming a bit; so, as they made it themselves, they had it that way. This is fresh water, girls, just put in it. Betty, you haven't been here before, though I've tried to find a good chance to have folks before this. Mother's been in the hospital, as I guess I told you.

”Why, Betty, I'm the last chick of a big family, or almost the last chick. Jack is in the University still, my big brother, but the rest are all married or away, six brotherswhat do you think of that?”

”How nice! Any sisters? but you practically told me you hadn't any. And here I've known you all year and never knew a word about your family.”

”Life is like that, Betty,” laughed Peggy. ”I guess we never told each other our life history. I know your family because I've been at your house and I saw them.”

”I've known Peggy all my life,” said Mary Emma, ”and I never knew she had _six_ brothers. Are you _sure_, Peggy?” Mary Emma was grinning as she touched the water with her toes. Then she slipped into it and lay back, floating a little.

It was the signal for a general descent into the pool whose waters, cooler than the air, were so refres.h.i.+ng. n.o.body seemed to care about diving, but they swam a little, had mild races which, no one cared much about beating, and sat on the steps that led down into the water or perched again on the upper rim of cement. ”What makes us so doleful?”