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"Well look and see what they've run you about, for you won't escape, I'll wager," laughed Peggy as merrily as though it were broad daylight instead of five A.M.
Polly dove into her stocking to fish out a tiny rocking horse with a doll riding astride it. The horse was to all intents and purposes on a mad gallop, for his rider's hair, DYED A VIVID RED, was streaming out behind, her collar was flying loose, her feet were out of the stirrups and one shoe was gone. The mad rider bore the legend:
"Lady Gilpin."
A dozen other nonsensical things followed, but down in the toe of each was a beautiful 19-- cla.s.s pin for each of the girls, with "Co-ed 19--"
engraved on them and cards saying "with the compliments of the bunch."
By the time the stockings' contents were investigated it was time to dress and go with Mrs. Harold to see the Christmas Parade, always given before breakfast in Bancroft Hall and through the Yard. Mrs. Harold tapped upon the girls' door and was greeted with "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" She entered, taking them in her arms and saying:
"Dozens and dozens for each of you, my little foster-daughters. I am so glad to have you with me, for Christmas isn't Christmas without young people to enjoy it, and I think I've got some of the very sweetest and best to be had--both daughters and sons. There are no more children like my foster-children. I am one lucky old lady."
"Old!" cried Peggy indignantly, "Why you'll never, never seem old to us, for you just think, and see, and feel every single thing as we do."
"That's a pretty compliment," replied Mrs. Harold, sealing her words with a kiss which was returned with earnest warmth, for Peggy was learning to love this friend very dearly.
The Christmas Parade was funny enough, for the mids.h.i.+pmen had sent to Philadelphia for their costumes and every living thing, from Fiji Islanders, to priests, bears, lions, ballet girls or convicts raced through the Yard to the music of "Tommy's band" as they called the ridiculous collection of wind instruments over which one of the mids.h.i.+pmen waved his baton as bandmaster.
When this great show ended, all hurried away to dress for breakfast formation, for many were the invitations to breakfast with friends out in town, legal holidays being the only days upon which such privileges were allowed. Mrs. Harold had a party of five beside Polly and Peggy and the griddle cakes which vanished that morning rivaled the number of waffles which had disappeared at Severndale. When breakfast ended Mrs.
Harold said:
"Can you young people give me about two hours out of your day? Polly and I have laid a little plan for someone's pleasure, which we know will be enhanced if you boys cooperate with us."
"Count on us, Little Mother."
"We'll do anything we can for you, for you do enough for us."
"Sure thing," were the hearty replies, while Peggy slipped to her side to whisper: "I'd almost be willing to give up my 'Co-ed' cla.s.s pin if you asked me to."
"No such sacrifice as that, honey. But let's all go up to Middies' Haven where I'll tell you all about it."
CHAPTER IX
DUNMORE'S LAST CHRISTMAS
When Mrs. Harold's little breakfast party returned to her sitting-room, she dropped into her favorite chair before the blazing log fire, motioning to the others to gather about her. Polly and Peggy promptly perched upon the arms of her chair, nestling close; Durand squatted, Turk-fas.h.i.+on, upon a big cus.h.i.+on at her feet. Wheedles leaned with unstudied grace against the mantel-shelf, while Happy, Ralph, and Shortie seated themselves upon the big couch whose capacity seemed to be something like the magic tent of the Arabian Nights' tale, and capable of indefinite expansion.
"What is it, Little Mother?" asked Wheedles, while Durand glanced up with his deep, dark eyes, and a slight quiver of the sensitive mouth.
"Just a little plan I have for Dunmore's happiness today" she answered, alluding to a second-cla.s.sman who had been severely injured upon the football field late in October, and who had been paralyzed ever since.
His people lived far away and it was difficult for them to reach him, and the day would have been a sad one but for his chums in the Academy and his many friends.
Among these latter none were more devoted than Mrs. Harold and Polly, for Lewis Dunmore had been one of the Little Mother's boys since he first entered the Academy and she was nearly heart-broken at the serious outcome of his accident, as no hope was entertained of his recovery.
All knew this, and the tenderest sympathy went out to the sick lad who had never for a moment ceased to hope for ultimate recovery and whose patience, courage and cheerfulness under conditions so terrible, filled with admiration the hearts of all who knew him.
Polly had been untiring in her devotion to him, and "the little foster- sister," as he called her, spent many an hour in the hospital, reading, talking, or whistling like a bird, for whistling was Polly's sole accomplishment. Peggy often went with her, for she loved to make others happy, and many a weary hour was made less weary for him by the two girls, and Peggy had sent many a dainty dish from Severndale, or the fruit and flowers for which it was noted. She knew Polly and Mrs.
Howland had planned something for Christmas day, but waited for them to tell her, feeling delicate about asking questions. She had sent over every dainty she could think of and great bunches of mistletoe.
Mrs. Harold smiled upon the young faces she loved so dearly and said
"Yesterday morning Polly and I sent up a lot of Christmas greens and a tree for Lewis, and later went up to dress it, arranging with the nurses to put it in his room when he was sleeping that it might be the first thing his eyes fell upon when he wakened this morning. He has probably been looking at it many an hour, but we told the nurses we would come up about ten-thirty to give him the presents. We wanted to make it a merry hour for him, and so a lot of nonsensical things were put on for his friends also, among them you boys and some others to whom I have written, and who will meet us there. Can you join us?"
"Can we! Well why not? Sure! Poor old chap!" were some of the hearty responses.
"I knew I could count upon you, so let us start at once. Go get ready, girls."
The girls flew to their room and a moment later came back coated and furred, for the walk up to the hospital on the hill was a bleak one. The boys were inured to all sorts of weather, and their heavy overcoats were a safe protection against it. It was a merry, frolicking party which set forth, and as they crossed the athletic field a lively s...o...b..lling took place, for a light snow had fallen the day before, turning the Yard into a beautiful white world.
Mrs. Harold was not to be outdone by any of her young people, but catching up handfuls of snow in her woolen-gloved hands tossed s...o...b..a.l.l.s with the best of them.
The contrast from the joy, the vigorous health of the group entering Dunmore's room to the still, helpless figure lying upon the cot was pathetic. The invalid could not move his head, but his great brown eyes, and fine mouth smiled his welcome to his friends, and he said:
"Oh, it was great! Great! I saw it the first thing when I woke up. And the holly and mistletoe up here over my bed. I don't see how they got it hung there without my knowing when they did it."
"That was our secret," cried Polly. "And Peggy sent over the mistletoe from Severndale, though she didn't know we were to have the tree."
"Peggy, you are all right," was Dunmore's hearty praise. "But that tree is the prettiest thing ever. I'm as crazy as a kid about it. I sort of dreaded Christmas, but you people have fixed it up all right and I'm no end grateful. It's a great day after all."
Peggy who was standing where Dunmore could not see her glanced at Polly.
Polly nodded in quick understanding. "The day all right," and the poor lad helpless as some lifeless thing. The girls' eyes filled with quick tears which they hastened to wink away, for not for worlds would they have saddened what both knew to be the last Christmas Lewis could pa.s.s in this world, and Polly cried:
"Now, Tanta, let us have the presents!" For an hour the room was the scene of a happy merrymaking, as Shortie, because he was "built on lines to reach the top-gallants," they said, distributed the gifts, funny or dainty, and Lewis' bed looked like a stand in a bazaar. Mrs. Harold had given him a downy bathrobe; Peggy had made him a hop pillow; Polly had made up a nonsense jingle for each day for a month, sealing each in an envelope and labelling it with dire penalties if read before the date named.
But best of all, the cla.s.s had sent him his cla.s.s-ring and when it was slipped upon his finger by his roommate, the poor lad broke down completely.
Mrs. Harold hastened to the bedside and the others did their best to relieve the situation.
The cla.s.s-ring is never worn by a second-cla.s.sman until the last exam is pa.s.sed by the first cla.s.s. Then the new cla.s.s-rings blossom forth in all their glory, for this ring is peculiarly significant: It is looked forward to as one of the greatest events in the cla.s.s' history, and is a badge of union forever.
Realizing that Dunmore could not be with them when the time came for them to put on their own, his cla.s.smates had unanimously voted to give him his as a Christmas gift, and nothing they could have done could possibly have meant so much to him. He was prouder than he had ever been before in his life, but--with the gift came the faint premonition of the inevitable; the first doubt of future recovery; the first hint that perhaps he had been harboring false hopes, and it almost overwhelmed him, and Mrs. Harold read it all in a flash. But Peggy saved the day.
Slipping to his side she said:
"Aren't you proud to be the very first to wear it? They wanted to give you a Christmas present, but couldn't think of a single thing you'd enjoy while you were so ill. Then they thought of the ring. Of course you could enjoy THAT, and there was no reason in the world that you shouldn't either, and the other boys will be happy seeing you wear it and count the days before they can put theirs on. And it is such a beauty, isn't it? We are all so glad you've got it. You can just wiggle your finger and crow over the others every time they come to visit you."
Lewis looked up at her and smiled. He understood better than she guessed why she had talked so fast, and was grateful, but the pang was beneath the smile nevertheless.
Then dinner-hour drawing near the white-capped nurse came in as a gentle hint that her patient had had about all the excitement he could stand, and Mrs. Harold suggested their departure. Their last glance showed them Lewis Dunmore looking at his cla.s.s-ring, for he could move that arm just enough to enable him to raise the hand within his range of vision.
The week following was a happy one for all. Each afternoon an informal dance was given in the gymnasium and the girls pranced to their hearts'
content. As the week drew to an end the weather grew colder and colder until with Sat.u.r.day came a temperature which froze College Creek solid.
This was most unusual for the season, but was hailed with wild rejoicings by the boys and girls, for skating is a rare novelty in Annapolis.
Sat.u.r.day dawned an ideal winter day, clear, cold, and white.