The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo WeaversFrey, Hildegard G.
General
The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers
Frey, Hildegard G.
Camp Fire Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Fiction
sang the Washington rooters in ecstasy. It was maddening. There was no
hope of keeping her from scoring. The time came when Sahwah and Marie
both had their hands on the ball at the same time and it called for a
toss-up. As the ball rose in the air Marie struck out as if to send it
flying to center, but instead of that, her hand, clenched, with a heavy
ring on one finger, struck Sahwah full on the nose. It was purely
accidental, as every one could see. Sahwah staggered back dizzily,
seeing stars. Her nose began to bleed furiously. She was taken from the
game and her substitute put in. A groan went up from the Washington
students as she was led out, followed by a suppressed cheer from the
Carnegie Mechanics. Marie met Joe's eye with a triumphant gleam in her
own.
Sahwah was beside herself at the thing which had happened to her. The
game and the championship were lost to Washington. The hope of the team
was gone. The girl who took her place was far inferior, both in skill in
throwing the ball and in tactics. She could not make a single basket.
The score rolled up on the Mechanicals' side; now it was tied. Sahwah,
trying to stanch the blood that flowed in a steady stream, heard the
roar that followed the tying of the score and ground her teeth in
misery. The Mechanicals were scoring steadily now. The first half ended
12 to 8 in their favor. But if Marie had expected to be the heroine of
the game now that Sahwah was out of it she was disappointed. The girl
who had taken Sahwah's place required no skilful guarding; she would not
have made any baskets anyhow, and there was no chance for a brilliant
display of Marie's powers. Marie stood still on the floor after the
first half ended, listening to the cheers and expecting her name to be
shouted above the rest, but nothing like that happened. The yells were
for the team in general, while the Washingtons, loyal to Sahwah to the
last, cheered her to the echo.
The noise penetrated to the dressing room where she lay on a mat:
"Ach du lieber lieber,
Ach du lieber lieber,
BREWSTER! No, ja, bum bum!
Ach du lieber lieber,
Ach du lieber lieber,
BREWSTER! No, ja!"
Sahwah raised her head. Another cheer rent the air:
"B-R-E,
DOUBLE-U, S,
T-E-R,
BREWSTER!"
Sahwah sat up.
"BREWSTER! BREWSTER! WE WANT BREWSTER!" thundered the gallery. Sahwah
sprang to her feet. Like a knight of old, who, expiring on the
battlefield, heard the voice of his lady love and recovered
miraculously, Sahwah regained her strength with a rush when she heard
the voice of her beloved school calling her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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