Jane Allen: Center Part 17

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."

"Three cheers for our leader, Judith Stearns!" were then called for and responded to with such ructious vehemence, as might have been expected had the criers and cheer squad been turned loose at that moment. A full half hour of the most strenuous kind of shouts and cheers had little effect on dampening voices and ardour, when the call to cheer Judith sounded anew.

Judith waved for silence in vain. Not in years had there been such a remarkable manifestation at an election. Just once Judith caught the glittering eye of Helen, who was down front with her contingent. It had been carefully arranged that she should keep away from Judith and Jane, to dispel suspicion regarding their actual relations.h.i.+p, but that the little artist had worked for the result now being proclaimed to honor Jane, none knew better than the new cla.s.s president herself.

"Speech! Speech!" shouted the cheering squad. Then Jane stepped forward.

"This honor," she said, "I have not sought, but I am none the less grateful. Why I have changed my mind from a positive declaration against accepting to the position I now hold, is a matter-too complicated for platform utterance. I feel, however, in justice to my supporters, they should know, if they care to, the exact particulars.

Therefore, we will arrange a time for a private conference of the leaders, as quickly as that time can be set apart. In the meantime be a.s.sured of my grat.i.tude, and my determination to support the traditions of Wellington."

"Cheers! Cheers!" demanded the shouting squad, and answering the call came that unintelligible faulty rhyme:

"I know a girl and her name is Jane, A reebald, ribald rowdy!

The hundredth verse is just the same A reebald, ribald rowdy!

Janey, get a rat-trap bigger than a cat-trap!

Reebald, ribald! Siss-boom-bah!

Wellington! Wellington! Rah! Rah!"

"I never thought we could do it," Drusilla Landers hissed into Jane's ear, as they filed out, at the same time giving her hand a congratulatory squeeze. "You have no idea how the opposition worked. We won by strategy-nothing else. They had us beaten in point of numbers two to one. But they never got a chance to poll a vote."

"Nor to candy a candidate," a.s.sisted Jane, with a school girl's delightful disregard of common sense English.

"But they will make us pay for our victory," forecast the sage Drusilla.

"We put it over this time, and we have right on our side," orated Jane.

"No need to climb the steeple until the flagpole sags."

"Oh, our colors are flaunting to-night!" Drusilla made Jane hear, her eyes sparkling with well-earned satisfaction.

"Ummmm!" Jane reciprocated the long "M" like a whisper through the pines, serving to express more with its hum, than might have a whole paragraph of mere ordinary cut out words.

In the day's records no mention is made of the lecture. But it was delivered, and the cla.s.s attended, so the "condition" was met, if not entirely appreciated. Sleep itself had to fight for its honors on that night in Wellington.

CHAPTER XVI-POLITICS ET AL

"Oh, I am too excited for words!" exclaimed Clare Bradley. "Have you heard the news?"

"I may have," replied Judith, with her old-time drollery. "What particularly choice crumb have you reference to, Clare?"

"Oh, Marion Seaton is perfectly wild. Threatens to leave college if we are not all disciplined. She won't even come to her cla.s.ses. Judy, dear, do you think we-will catch it?"

She was a dear little freshman, and while she loved the fun of real trouble, especially when some one other than herself was more seriously involved, she did have a little fear of reported college pranks reaching the ears of her ministerial father. He was a good sort (not sport) himself-was Rev. Clarence Bradley, and he had experienced his own college fun, no doubt; but Claire promised, on leaving home, she would never bring disgrace to his curly blond head, with any "bad reports" from school, and the pretty little black-eyed, light curly-haired girl fervently hoped to keep her promise.

"I am not a bit afraid of Marian's threats," answered Judith boldly.

"In fact, I rather think she will be the one to call halt, when we ask for a report of the doings of election night. Marian is not living in a stone house. I fancy there are lots of windows in it, if it is not entirely made of gla.s.s, to speak metaphorically."