The Youngest Girl in the Fifth: A School StoryBrazil, Angela
General
The Youngest Girl in the Fifth: A School Story
Brazil, Angela
Schools -- Fiction
"I'm glad to hear it," said Beatrice, "I always thought the Seniors at
Rodenhurst were much too stand-off. It will do them a world of good to
forget their dignity for once, and mix freely with the rest of the
school."
"Yes, it's quite a comfort to be able to talk to Lesbia in the gym.
now," agreed Gwen.
"Do you mean to say you couldn't before?" exclaimed Beatrice. "Things
weren't so bad as that when I was there."
"Etiquette's been getting stricter and stricter since you left. The
prefects of about two years ago started the notion that Seniors must
keep to themselves, and not have anything to do with Juniors, and you
know when an idea like that gets broached how everybody takes it up
and sticks to it. It's impossible to defy a rule of that kind just 'on
one's own'."
"I know; rules the girls make for themselves are generally better kept
than those made at headquarters. I agree that you couldn't break
through the etiquette of your Form. Still, I'm glad the barrier is
down at last, and hope it will never be raised again."
"I shan't be the one to plant a stake in the fence of division!"
laughed Gwen.
Practising for the various items of the fete proceeded briskly at
Rodenhurst. The younger girls, during the winter course of dancing
lessons, had learned to plait the maypole, and to execute some lively
morris dances. Though Miss Robins, their teacher, was not in Stedburgh
during the summer, they remembered their steps quite well enough to
enable them to give a performance, with the aid of a little
supervision from some of their elders. Various members of the
Seniors, who understood morris dancing, undertook to superintend
rehearsals, and drill the small girls in any details they had
forgotten. It was thought that this portion of the entertainment would
form a great attraction of the fete, and give it somewhat the
character of a May Day celebration. The Juniors who were fortunate
enough to be taking part were immensely important, and keenly anxious
to make their contribution to the programme a complete success. They
turned up loyally for rehearsals, and were unwearied in practising any
difficult bits where there was a likelihood of a hitch occurring.
One afternoon, about two o'clock, Gwen, with her Virgil in her hand,
sauntered down the Rodenhurst garden into the playing field which lay
at the back of the school. She was anxious to seize the half-hour for
preparation, as she knew she would have scant time in the evening for
all she was obliged to finish, and she hoped to find a quiet corner in
the open air, where she might study in peace. As she walked along,
seeking a shady spot, she was attracted by the sound of angry voices,
and peeping over the hedge that divided the small playing field from
the larger hockey and cricket field, she saw a selection of Second
Form girls collected for a rehearsal. Netta Goodwin was the Senior in
command, and with Netta these Juniors were evidently having an excited
altercation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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