A Fourth Form Friendship (23 page)

"Is that original?" asked Mabel.

"Of course it is! Don't you know my remarkable style by this time? I'm the coming poet!"

"A modest one, at any rate!" laughed Aldred.

"Oh, it doesn't do to hide one's light under a bushel! Nobody believes in you nowadays unless you advertise yourself."

"I thought self-praise was no recommendation."

"Quite a mistaken idea! To alter Shakespeare a little, one can say: Sweet are the uses of advertisement!"

"You must give us a better specimen of your poetry before we'll believe in you," said Mabel. "I shall call you a doggerel rhymster at present."

"All right! How do you like this?--

'Tis unkind, most naughty Mabel, Your poor cousin's lines to label As but trashy, worthless rhymes Only fit for strolling mimes. Don't you see the genius burning In each verse that I am turning? Some fine day--I'll give a hint-- You may see my name in print!"

"It will be among the advertisements, then," said Aldred. "I suppose you really made up that one?"

"Certainly; a poor thing, but mine own," said Francis, with an attempt at a bow. "You needn't clap, because, after all, I'm rather modest, and it might raise a blush on my cheek."

"We weren't going to--though we'd like to see the blush, I assure you!"

"Would you like another verse? I'm waxing poetical: I suppose it's a matter of practice."

"No, thanks, we've had enough!" exclaimed Piers. "You'd better drop poetry, and stick to steering; you've nearly bumped us into the bank more than once."

"Can't I have a turn at rowing now?" asked Mabel. "You promised I should."

"All serene!" said Piers. "You may take my oar. Steady! Don't go upsetting us!"

"Then let me have yours, Godfrey," said Aldred. "I do so want to try too!"

"It's the spliced one," said Godfrey, "but I don't suppose you're likely to smash it."

It was the first time Aldred had ever tried to row, and it was much harder work than she had supposed.

"Look here! you're not feathering your oar properly," commented Piers. "You oughtn't to put it in so deep, nor bring it out with a jerk. Watch how Mabel is doing it."

"Oh, I know!" replied Aldred rather impatiently. She did not like to receive any criticisms, and, setting her feet firmly, gave a mighty pull. The next instant over she went on her back, and away went the oar into the water. Luckily, Piers had plenty of presence of mind. He put out his hand and caught the oar just as it was floating past the stern.

"We very nearly lost it!" he remarked. "It was luckily near enough to reach."

Aldred retired into the stern again, feeling decidedly crestfallen, all the more so as Mabel was getting on nicely. Her friend's efforts did not last long, however; she soon declared that her hands would be blistered, and relinquished her seat to Piers, who was longing to be in command again.

"It's far better for you to look on," he said. "Girls aren't much good at rowing."

"How about Grace Darling?"

"Oh, well, she was the exception that proves the rule!"

"Here we are, close to the farm!" exclaimed Godfrey. "We must try to find a good landing-place."

They decided that it was not worth while for all to leave the boat, so Francis volunteered to get out. He ran across a field to the farm, delivered his father's message, and was back almost before the others had time to grow impatient.

"We must turn her about now," said Piers. "Oh, thunder! It's later than I thought; we shall have to hurry up, if somebody wants the boat at half-past four. Francis, you had better take Godfrey's oar."

Once on the river again they found that their return was a very different matter from their former journey. The tide was running out in a fast and strong current against them, and though Piers and Francis tried their utmost, they could scarcely make any headway. It was a heavy boat for two boys to manage, and the possibility of their being back in time seemed doubtful.

They had gone perhaps two-thirds of a mile, when suddenly there was a harsh, grating sound under them.

"Hallo! We've run aground!" cried Francis.

This was bad news indeed, but it was only too true. They had not known that a sandbank was there; on their way up they had passed over it easily, but the tide was going out so rapidly now that already it was almost uncovered. The boat seemed stuck fast, and although the boys made every effort, they were not able to free her with their oars. They pulled off their boots and stockings, and, jumping overboard, tried to push or drag her from the shoal, but all to no purpose; she was sunk so deeply in the soft sand and gravel that they could not move her an inch.

"What are we to do?" asked Godfrey.

"Stay where we are, I suppose, till the tide floats her off again," replied Piers.

"It's a pleasant look-out, anyhow!" said Francis.

"And Aunt Winifred will be wondering where we are, too, if we don't turn up for tea," added Mabel.

"It's a pity we didn't bring some tea with us, and we could have had a picnic," said Aldred. "I'm so thirsty!"

"There's nothing to offer you but the river, I'm afraid."

"No, thanks, it's too muddy for my taste."

"'Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink!'" quoted Piers.

"And what our thirst will be ere long, One doesn't like to think!"

rapped out the irrepressible Francis, whose muse was not quenched even by this disaster.

"We're in a fix, and that's the solemn truth," said Godfrey.

They were, indeed, in a most awkward predicament. By the time the tide was high again it would be midnight, and they certainly could not see to row in the dark. There was every prospect that they would have to spend the night on the shoal, without tea or supper, or extra wraps.

They waited for perhaps an hour and a half, while the sandbank grew to quite a respectable island. There were woods on either hand, so it was most unlikely that their plight would be noticed from the shore; their only chance of relief was from a passing boat--a faint hope, for as a rule there were very few craft on the river.

"I begin to understand how a shipwrecked mariner feels when he's waiting for a sail!" said Aldred.

"I believe I'd trade my watch for a plateful of bread and butter," said Francis.

Godfrey suddenly stood up in the stern and waved his hat.

"A boat! A boat!" he cried eagerly. "Hallo, there! Hi!"

Francis and Piers immediately joined him in making such a noise that nobody but a deaf person could have ignored it. The fisherman who was rowing in their direction evidently realized the situation; he signed to his mate to stay in the channel, then, clambering overboard, came wading in his tall boots on to the island.

"Why, it's Sam Ball, who sings in the choir!" exclaimed Godfrey.

Their rescuer regarded them with a rueful grin.

"You've got yourselves into a precious mess here!" he said briefly.

"Can you help us to pull her off?" returned Piers anxiously.

"Pull her off! Couldn't do it with a team of horses! She'll have to stop where she is until the tide floats her. I'll take you off, and that's the best I can do for you. Hoist one of them young misses on my back; I'll carry them first."

He waded with Aldred to his own boat, returning to fetch Mabel, and the boys scrambled after him as best they could.

"It's Pritchard's boat, isn't it?" he said. "I'm passing the ferry, so if you like I'll tell him what's happened. If you cross through the wood there, and turn to the right of the iron gate, you'll find your way straight to the village."

The boys went home in rather subdued spirits.

"We shall have to go down to the ferry this evening and explain things to Pritchard," said Piers. "I hope he won't cut up rough about the boat."

"I'm afraid he'll want compensation," said Francis, "I split that spliced oar with trying to shove her off."

"What an abominable swindle! It'll take half our next term's cash. I don't believe the pater will stand it for us."

"I'm sure he won't, after that little affair of the rifle and old Carter's dog!" put in Godfrey.

"Well, never mind if we have to pay up. We shall survive it, I suppose," said Francis. "We're making Mabel and Aldred look quite uncomfortable. It seems a stingy trick to take them out rowing, land them on a sandbank, and then spend all the rest of the time growling over the damage. But I know one thing: if ever we have that boat again, I'm going to make a chart of the river first, and mark down all the shoals!"

An Opportunity

Mabel and Aldred returned to Birkwood on terms of even closer intimacy than before. There is always a difference between a companion who is only an acquaintance at school and one who shares the many little home associations and interests that make a bond of union apart from the other girls, and give innumerable subjects for those confidential talks which are the chief joy of friendship. The bedroom that had once seemed entirely Mabel's was now taken up with joint possessions. Aldred had helped to buy the new gipsy table that stood in the window, and had embroidered half of the table-cloth that covered it. The cushion for the wicker chair was a present from Lady Muriel to both the girls; and the knick-knacks that they had brought back with them were so entirely mixed that it was difficult to tell which belonged to either. "All things in common" was Mabel's motto, and Aldred, who certainly got the better of the bargain, was only too ready to agree.

It was high summer now at the Grange--glorious, golden days, when the sea breeze, or the wind from the downs, tempered the warm sunshine, and established Birkwood's reputation for a bracing climate. As many lessons as possible were held in the garden. Each form had its own special open-air classroom, and the girls easily accommodated themselves to working out-of-doors.

"When you're accustomed to it, it's no harder than working in the house," said Ursula. "Of course, just the first day we can't help staring about a little, to look at birds and things, but we soon get over that. We're none of us babies, to need four walls round us to keep our attention, and it is so very much nicer."

The Fourth Form "room" was at the corner of the big lawn, under the shade of a large oak, almost exactly in the place where Aldred had made her statue of Venus in the snow. How different the garden looked now in its summer dress! It was difficult to believe that the asphalt court had ever been frozen and turned into a skating rink.

"I shall never forget our ice carnival," said Miss Bardsley. "My ankle is hardly strong yet, and I'm afraid it will always be thicker than the other."

"You had a long holiday, though," urged Phoebe: "six whole weeks!"

"An enforced holiday is no pleasure; I would far rather have been at my work. I don't feel that you've made up yet for all you lost while I was absent."

"Is that why we have a double allowance of Roman history now?" queried Ursula.

"Certainly it is. You must finish the book this term, if we have to take extra lessons on it. You naughty girls, don't pull such faces! You ought to be interested in the Emperors."

"Father says some day he'll take me to Rome, and I shall see all their marble statues," observed Mabel.

"Lucky girl!" said Miss Bardsley. "I was fortunate enough to spend one Easter holiday in Rome, and saw the busts of the Emperors at the Capitoline Museum. They're the most beautiful likenesses in the world. You'll appreciate Roman history when you've been to the Forum, and the Colosseum, and all the other famous places."

"Why can't we study history that way?" suggested Ursula. "Suppose you were to take us all to Rome for a month, and we learnt about Romulus and Remus when we were sitting on the Capitoline Hill, and about Trajan in Trajan's Forum, and Diocletian in Diocletian's Bath, and Nero at the Colosseum: it would be so interesting, and we should really remember it!"

"No doubt that is the ideal method; but think of the expense! I am afraid most parents would grumble at the school bills, if teaching history involved a visit to the scene of each occurrence. No! You're supposed to study all this beforehand, and then, when you have a clear idea of ancient and mediaeval times, you can go abroad with an understanding of what you'll see."

"But why shouldn't there be a mutual exchange of schools?" continued Ursula, who liked to discuss questions with Miss Bardsley. "Suppose a class from an Italian school were to come to the Grange for a month, and we were to go and take their place: they'd learn English games, and we should see the old temples and amphitheatres, so we should each have something we couldn't get in our own country."

"It would certainly be a splendid means of learning languages, especially if such an exchange could be effected with a French or a German school. But I fear we are not ripe for that yet; there are too many difficulties in the way of such international visiting. In years to come perhaps the State will organize it, and we shall see little bands of children starting with their teachers to study foreign life and get rid of insular prejudices. It would have to be a special department of the Board of Education."

"If Father gets into Parliament again I'll ask him to bring in a Bill for it," said Mabel. "He's very keen on Secondary Education."

There was so much to be done at Birkwood during the summer term that the days did not seem nearly long enough, though the school rose half an hour earlier than in winter. The girls played cricket as well as tennis, worked in their gardens, and were taken for walks on the downs or on the shore. These expeditions generally had a scientific object in view, wild flowers being brought home to be pressed and added to the school collection, or the pools left by the tide investigated for specimens to enlarge the already flourishing aquarium. There is an old saying: "If you are good, you are happy"; but Miss Drummond believed in the reversing of that moral process, on the theory that "if you are happy, you are good", considering that young girls, at any rate, would be more likely to grow up with nice minds and true instincts if all their environment was beautiful, and their days were filled with pleasures calculated to elevate and refine. There were few of her pupils on whom her system had not the desired effect, and the one or two failures had been gently eliminated, so as not to contaminate the rest.