Part 18 (1/2)

It was Cologne who declared Nita ”wallowed” in slang, because the Nicks had decided that no ready-made slang should be used at meetings, and Nita persisted in ignoring the rule. Each new term brought the season's current phrases back in the custody of the sandy-haired Nita and now, on the first night, her companions took precious good care to remind her of the transgression.

Altogether Dorothy found it difficult to keep track of anything like conversation, and was forced to say ”yes” and ”no” on suspicion. Tavia had better luck, Edna Black (christened Ebony Ned) took her in charge at once, and the two (Ned had already established her reputation as a black sheep), dashed off down the corridor, bursting in on unsuspecting ”Babes” (newcomers), and managing, somehow or other, to upset half-emptied trunk trays, and do damage generally.

”h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo!” came a shout from the first turn or senior row.

”Come, somebody, and fan me!”

”That's 'd.i.c.k,'” Ned told Tavia. ”Molly Richards, but we call her d.i.c.k. By the way, what shall we call you? What is your full name?

The very whole of it?”

”Octavia Travers! Birthday is within the octave of Christmas,”

declared the Dalton girl impressively.

”Oct or Ouch! That sounds too much like Auch du lieber Augustine, or like a cut finger,” studied Edna. ”Better take yours from Christmas--Chrissy sounds cute.”

”Yes, especially since I have lately had my hair cut Christy--after our friend Columbus,” agreed Tavia, tossing back her new set of tangles.

”I was in a railroad accident, you know, and lost my long hair. I had the time of my life getting it cut off properly, in a real barber shop.

Dorothy's cousins, two of the nicest boys, were with us--Dorothy went too. It was such fun.”

”All right, it shall be Chrissy then,” decided Edna. ”It's funny we always turn a girl's name into a boy's name when we can. Let's go and see d.i.c.k,” and at this she dragged Tavia out of the corner of the hall where they had taken refuge from a girl who was threatening them for upsetting all her ribbons and laces.

”Oh, there you are, Ned Ebony,” greeted Molly as the two bolted into her room. ”Where's everybody. I haven't seen Fiddle yet.”

”Viola Green?” asked Tavia. ”Funny I should have thought of that name for her.”

”You knew she plays the fiddle adorably.”

”No, but I knew she had been named after her grandfather's violin.

What a queer notion.”

”Queer girl, too,” remarked Molly, ”but a power in her way. Did she come up yet?”

”On our train,” said Tavia, too prudent, for once in her life, to tell the whole story.

”She is going to cut the Nicks,” announced Edna. ”She told me so first thing. Then she slammed her door and no one has caught a glimpse of her since.”

Tavia was fairly bursting with news at this point, but she had promised Dorothy not to interfere with Viola in any way and she wisely decided not to start in on such dangerous territory as Viola's visit to Dalton.

So the matter was dropped, and the girls went forth for more fun.

Dorothy had met Miss Higley, Mrs. Pangborn's a.s.sistant. She proved to be a little woman with gla.s.ses, the stems going all the way back of her ears. She seemed snappy, Dorothy thought, and gave all sorts of orders to the girls while pretending to become acquainted with Dorothy.

”The crankiest crank,” declared one girl, when the little woman had gone further down the hall with her objections. ”But, really, we need a chief of police. Don't you think so?”

”Isn't Mrs. Pangborn chief?” asked Dorothy.

”Oh, she's president of the board of commissioners,” replied Rose-Mary.