St. Cyprian's versus Templeton
It was now more than three weeks since Mildred and the other members of the literary syndicate had sent in their poetical effusions in praise of tea. So far they had heard nothing of the matter, and they were beginning to grow anxious as to the fate of their verses.
"Perhaps it was just humbug," speculated Myrtle Robinson.
"Surely nobody would go to the expense of putting an advertisement in the Herald just for humbug!" objected Mildred.
"It may be a cheat, though," suggested Maggie Orton. "Suppose they use our poetry and never tell us?"
"If we saw it in print we'd prosecute them for breach of copyright!"
"I'm afraid it's all found its way into the waste-paper basket."
"That's more than likely."
Mildred had put her own address on the manuscripts as secretary of the syndicate, and every day she looked hopefully at the letters which were delivered at Meredith Terrace. One morning she arrived at school in a state of unusual excitement, and, rushing into the dressing-room, hailed her fellow poetesses.
"Oh jubilate! Just look here! This came only five minutes before I started. Isn't it ripping?"
"You don't mean to say we've won the prize?" gasped Maggie Orton.
"No—not the prize! But we've got something. Quite enough to cock-a-doodle about. Here, read what they say!"
A cluster of heads immediately collected over the letter. It was typed, and appeared strictly businesslike. It ran thus:—
"60 King Street,
Kirkton."Dear Madam,
"We are in receipt of your verses in respect of our competition for advertising our brand of tea. Though they do not attain the level of first prize offered, they are not bad on the whole, and we think we might be able to use them. We are therefore willing to give you £1, 5s. for the three, and would add a further 15s. for the Christmas-card verses and cracker mottoes, making £2 for the lot. We retain your verses pending your consideration of this offer, and will forward cheque and copyright agreement should you accept it.
"Yours faithfully,
"Jones & Jackson, Ltd."
The successful authoresses turned to one another with almost incredulous delight, and broke into open rejoicings.
"Goody! How stunning!"
"Accept it? Ra-ther!"
"Hi-cockalorum! We're in luck!"
"I never dreamt we'd really win anything."
"We shall have to sample this tea now. We praised it up enough!"
"Write to-day, Mildred, and say 'Done!'"
"Oh, we have scored!"
Mildred received the cheque by return of post, and as her uncle kindly cashed it for her at once, she brought two golden sovereigns to school to exhibit to her proud co-operators. The syndicate marched at once to the Principal's study, and, after a brief explanation, handed over the amount for the College library. Miss Cartwright was very much astonished, and laughed heartily as she tendered her congratulations.
"I didn't know we had so much talent at St. Cyprian's," she remarked. "We must keep a copy of the verses. It is a very nice idea to devote the money to the library, and I think you, who have gained it, ought to have the choosing of the books."
"Oh, may we?" said the girls.
"Most certainly. Bring me a list of what you would like, and I will order them from Bartholomew's."
The members of the syndicate felt themselves public benefactresses as they consulted the rest of the Form upon the drawing up of the list. There was naturally plenty of discussion, but in the end a dozen volumes were selected, and made quite a valuable addition to the not-too-well-stocked library. The incident drew attention to the scantiness of the collection on the shelves, the monitresses took the matter up, and it was put to the vote and carried unanimously that in future every girl, on leaving the College, should be asked to present two books—one for the senior and one for the junior branch—as a parting gift to St. Cyprian's. By this method the number of volumes would be annually increased; and though it was not compulsory, it was thought that nobody would be likely to refuse to offer her contribution.
The Alliance had brought many new interests to the school, and now that the Eisteddfod was over, the pendulum of excitement swung round from music to games. It was the turn of the Athletic branch of the league, and a cricket match had been fixed for the following Saturday afternoon between St. Cyprian's and Templeton. It was to be held at Haselwell, a suburb a few miles out of Kirkton, where the county matches were always played. The Alliance, of course, could not aspire to the county ground, but they were able to hire a very good pitch, which was often let out for school matches, and which afforded plenty of accommodation for spectators, including a covered stand.
Naturally St. Cyprian's team had been doing its utmost in the way of training; and Joan Richards as captain, and Kitty Fletcher as chief organizer of the Games department held many anxious consultations. They congratulated themselves that they had been drawn to play their first match against Templeton, and not against either the High School or the Marston Grove School, both of which had acquired a well-justified reputation in the cricket field. Of Templeton's play they knew little. Like themselves, it had not before contested with other schools, and beyond the fact (which Kitty had heard at the High School) that its captain, Marjorie Rawlins, was an excellent bowler, its points were problematical.
Joan was making her eleven concentrate its final energies on fielding, especially on catching and throwing in, which she regarded as half the battle.
"Some girls muff the ball, and some throw it about twenty yards, and the next fielder has to go for it while the other side's making runs," she affirmed. "I know you don't like fielding, but, if we want to score, we've got to practise it."
To Joan and Kitty, as "Athletics" delegates, the success or failure of this their first match meant much. The idea had got about at St. Cyprian's that the College was no good at games, and they were very anxious to correct so mistaken a notion. Once establish a precedent, and the girls would have more confidence, and be far more strenuous at their practices. They had never forgotten a certain rosy era of prowess under the tuition of a former mistress, and if they could once more be brought to the pitch of enthusiasm they had reached with Miss Pritchard, all would surely be well for the future.
The Alliance, having taken the cricket pitch for the afternoon, issued tickets of admission to any of its members who wished to go as spectators, and about sixty girls from St. Cyprian's availed themselves of the opportunity, Mildred among the number. The match was to begin at two o'clock, so after an early lunch they went by tram-car to the city, and caught the 1.25 train to Haselwell. Some of the girls had been there before to see county matches, and pointed out the famous ground, with its tiers upon tiers of wooden seats, the modern counterpart of an ancient Roman circus. Their own pitch was not far away from the station, and turned out to be quite well kept and satisfactory. Mildred took her place next to Maudie Stearne on one of the benches, and looked about her. There was a good gathering of spectators, for not only had St. Cyprian's and Templeton girls come to watch, but a fair number from the other schools had also turned up.
"The Coll.'s on appro. to-day," said Maudie. "I hope we shan't disgrace ourselves before all that set from the High School."
"Joan's in a flutter!" said Mildred.
"But Kitty's as cool as a cucumber. She might be going to play her little brothers in her own garden!"
"Good old Kit-cat! She'll do her level best, I know."
"Has Miss Harris come with Templeton?"
"No, I don't see her. I'm glad Miss Cartwright's here, though. One likes one's Principal to see one's first match."
"They're going to toss!" exclaimed Bess Harrison excitedly.
The two captains now came forward, exchanged a few civilities, and the orthodox penny went spinning into the air.
"Tails!" cried Marjorie Rawlins. "Tails it is! We'll bat!"
Joan lost no time in placing her field, and presently the two first bats sallied forth from the pavilion, and St. Cyprian's scanned them narrowly. One was short and squat, with an air of general strength about her, and used her bat as a walking-stick as she came; the other, tall and slim, carried her bat under her arm, and leisurely put on her batting gloves as she walked up to the pitch.
"Gladys Fuller and Beryl Norton," volunteered Bess Harrison, who knew something of the Templeton strength.
Beryl was to take first ball, and seemed rather nervous as the umpire gave her her centre; then, glancing round to take a last look at the position of the field, she prepared to face the bowling. Kitty was no "duffer" with the leather, having been assiduously coached by a critical brother who was in the Kirkton Grammar School eleven, and tolerated neither lobs nor half-volleys. A moderately long run with a swinging step brought her to the wicket; with a high overhand action she sent the ball down the pitch at a good pace. Luckily for Beryl it was off the wicket, as it beat her entirely. The next ball was dead straight, but Beryl was prepared for the pace this time, and played it respectfully back to the bowler. In fact, she was evidently not out to take risks, and the first over proved a maiden.
Who was going to take the next over was in everyone's mind. The point was soon settled, for Joan rolled the ball gently in the direction of Daisy Holt. Daisy's bowling was not quite orthodox according to modern ideas: she bowled lobs, hence her pseudonym with the team of "Lobster". But she knew how to vary both her pace and pitch, so that her bowling was quite dangerous. Her first ball pitched a little to the onside and had an artful break; but Gladys, to show her contempt for "underhand", swept round to leg, and missed it. She had failed to allow for the break, but, luckily for her, her skirts entangled the ball, and Daisy's instant appeal for l.b.w. was refused. Rendered wary by experience, Gladys played her next ball more carefully, and scored a single. This brought Beryl to the other end. It is strange how a long course of overhand bowling induces contempt of lobs. Daisy's next ball was a splendid one—straight, swift, and of good length; but Beryl, who seemed to have lost all her caution, mis-timed the blind swipe she made at it, and the next moment was walking off rather crest-fallen towards the pavilion, amid uproarious applause from St. Cyprian's, and shouts of "Good old Lobster!"
Maggie Lowe, the next bat, was well known as a good player. She handled her bat with a freedom and precision which augured ill for loose bowling, and the first half-volley that Daisy sent down she promptly sent to the boundary. After this the score mounted slowly, runs coming in twos and singles, and both girls seemed to gain in confidence, and played more freely. Kitty had all this time been bowling well and keeping a good length, though she had met with no luck as yet. Her turn was soon to come, however. A swift rising ball slightly to the off tempted Gladys to her destruction, and away glanced the ball to long slip. But Jessie Hudson was ready, having profited by her training. Would she reach it? The whole field held its breath. She's got it! No! The ball rebounds from her hands, but she has it again before it reaches the ground, thus bringing off a brilliant catch at the second time of asking. Thirty one for two, last player fifteen, went up on the board—not such a bad score after all! Templeton's captain, Marjorie Rawlins, now came forth with a look of determination on her face. She played with extreme care at first, but soon seemed to get her eye in, and runs came more quickly. Forty went up, and then fifty, to a great round of applause from Templeton. Joan now went on to bowl herself, instead of Daisy. She bowled a good medium-pace overhand, with a very tricky break from the off. Alas for Maggie Lowe! A well-pitched ball to the off tempted her to step out, but she had misjudged the length and ignored the break. The next moment her bails were flying, and she returned to the pavilion amid hearty applause for a useful innings of fourteen.
The next player was one of those happy-go-lucky, slashing hitters who are always a great accession of strength to a team when their batting comes off. She commenced hitting about her with great freedom, showing small respect for the bowling at either end. Fortunately for St. Cyprian's, Joan's careful training in fielding told its tale, and runs came less freely than might have been expected. Still, the score was mounting up steadily, and Miss Slasher seemed to be greatly enjoying herself when a really good catch at long-on put an end to her innings.
Sixty-seven for four now went up, and St. Cyprian's began to pull rather long faces, and wondered what Joan would do next. Joan had evidently made up her mind, for at the next over Edna Carson appeared at the wicket. St. Cyprian's took heart of grace, for Edna's bowling was very peculiar. It was a sort of compromise between roundhand and underhand, and where she had learned it nobody knew. However, it was swift and straight, kept very low, and was by no means easy to play, and, coming as it did after bowling which rose sharply from the pitch, it took the batters quite by surprise. Her first ball was dead on the middle stump. Marjorie Rawlins, who appeared to be expecting a slow, struck too late, and the next moment Peggie Potter, the wicket-keeper, threw the ball gleefully in the air, while the umpire sedately walked up to replace the bails.
The next player was no more successful. She spooned an easy catch to point, and was followed after a short interval by a fine strapping girl who came striding up to the wicket like a boy.
"Janet Armstrong," remarked the knowing Bess Harrison; and at the very sight of her powerful form the fielders all moved outwards, not even waiting for the signals which Joan was so plentifully bestowing upon them.
Janet took her block composedly, and waited with her bat slightly raised. "Now," thought Edna "if I can only drop the ball just under that bat, out goes the champion!" It was the third ball of the over, and St. Cyprian's maintain that it was the swiftest Edna had ever been known to bowl. Janet made a powerful stroke at it, apparently thinking it was a half-volley. But Edna's aim was true. She had sent down a deadly "yorker" which got under Janet's bat and spread-eagled her wicket.
"Well bowled! Well bowled!" shouted St. Cyprian's. "Why, she's done the hat trick!" and for several minutes delight and excitement reigned supreme.
"You shall choose it at Liberty's!" cried Joan, oblivious in her enthusiasm of the depleted state of the club exchequer.
The next player was already taking her centre from the umpire before order was restored. After this Templeton seemed to lose heart, their batting quite collapsed, and the innings closed for seventy-nine, two of the remaining three wickets falling to Joan, while Edna captured the last by an amazingly swift full pitch.
The Templeton captain was not long in arranging her field, and Joan, after some delay caused by a prolonged search for batting gloves, sent in Kitty Fletcher and Clarice Mayfield to face the bowling of Janet Armstrong at one end, Marjorie Rawlins herself taking the ball at the other.
Things started none too well for St. Cyprian's. The bowling was decidedly difficult. Marjorie Rawlins's slow overhand twisters needed constant watching, while Janet Armstrong was evidently trying all she knew to get her own back again. She was showing very fine form, and her easy, graceful style and capital pace and length struck St. Cyprian's at once with admiration and dread. Kitty and Clarice were both steady bats, however, and faced the bowling with a courage which did them credit, though runs came very slowly, and it was not until the third over that Kitty managed to score a single off Janet. This brought Clarice to the other end, and the first ball she received, a lovely bailer, proved too much for her. Peggie Potter came in next, with instructions from Joan to "stonewall everything" and wear the bowling down. These she communicated to Kitty in a mysterious conclave between the wickets before taking her centre, and both girls carried them out to the letter, playing a very careful and cautious game for several overs.
Kitty was by this time beginning to bat with more confidence and freedom, when, in playing back to an awkward ball from Marjorie Rawlins, she managed to hit her own wicket. With two wickets down, the score still under ten, and the bowling what it was, things looked rather black for St. Cyprian's. The buzz of cheerful girlish chatter died down, and a taciturn gloom took its place. Joan herself was going in next. Would she and Peggie manage to make a stand and wear down this terrible bowling? was the thought in each girl's mind as they saw her walk up to the wicket, take her centre, and prepare to receive her first ball from Marjorie Rawlins. It was on the off side, and slightly overpitched, and Joan sent it straight to the boundary for three, amid rounds of applause from her delighted supporters. Over was now called, and Joan faced the bowling of Janet Armstrong. Having broken her duck, however, she was breathing more freely, and soon found that the bowling, though good and accurate, was by no means unplayable. After a few overs of careful play she began to get her eye in, and with Peggie stonewalling with dogged persistence at the other end, and now and then making a single, the score crept up, at first gradually, and then more rapidly, till twenty, thirty, and then forty appeared on the board. At this point a sad mishap befell poor Peggie. She was getting so keen on backing up Joan's free and frequent drives that she was tempted out of her ground before the ball was actually delivered. Janet noticed this, and the next time it occurred, instead of delivering the ball she turned round and put down the wicket. Greatly disgusted with herself for having given her wicket away in such a silly manner, Peggie walked back to the pavilion, where, to her great relief, instead of the chaff and upbraiding she expected, she received quite an ovation. For had not she and Joan made a great stand at a critical point in the game, and saved a situation which might easily have led to a complete collapse?
Edna Carson, who went in next, obviously meant to continue Peggie's policy of keeping her end up and letting Joan do the scoring. She stolidly blocked everything that came her way, to the great disgust of Janet, who was evidently thirsting for her wicket, and was sending down some astonishingly good balls. But with swift balls, even if only blocked, you can often steal a run, and as the Templeton fielding was not nearly so good as St. Cyprian's, Edna frequently managed to make a single, and thus give Joan the opportunity of which she was not slow to avail herself. Gradually the score increased until fifty went up amid much rejoicing. At this point Edna, who had never seemed at her ease, though she had been batting freely for nearly half an hour, gave Janet her revenge by returning an easy catch. Grace Ashworth was the next bat, but did not stay long, being clean bowled by Janet Armstrong; and a similar fate befell Winifred Barbour, without adding to the score. Just as Sophy Manners, the next player, was coming out of the pavilion, Joan heard the neighbouring clock chime the first quarter. "A quarter-past four," she thought complacently, but moving a few paces from the pitch, she took a glance at the clock to make sure. To her horror and dismay the hands pointed to a quarter-past five!
"Hit out for all you're worth!" she whispered to Sophy as she came up. "Thirty to win, and only a quarter of an hour to make them in!"
Sophy, who was both bold and handy with the bat, and, as the girls all declared, "simply had no nerves", was nothing loath to take this advice, and for the next few minutes both she and Joan were scoring merrily. Sixty for six—that did not look so bad; but only nine minutes remained, and twenty runs were wanted to win. Joan glances uneasily at the clock, and hits out harder than ever.
But the bowlers still keep a good length, and runs are coming more slowly; for Joan knows that if either of the present wickets falls she has no one left to rely upon in an emergency like this, so she plays with more caution, only lashing out when opportunity offers. Seventy goes up, with only four minutes left! Sophy gets one round to leg for three, and a moment later has one to the boundary for four. Three runs wanted to win, and Joan has the bowling. She sends one to the on for two. Now for the winning hit, and only a minute to make it in! Marjorie Rawlins artfully sends down the ball a trifle slower and shorter pitched than before. St. Cyprian's hold their breath. A moment later they are gasping in agony, for Joan has misjudged the ball, and up it goes like a rocket between cover-point and bowler.
Both girls make a dash for it, but realizing the imminence of a collision, each suddenly stops short, thinking it is the other's catch, and the ball drops harmlessly between them, just as Joan arrives at the other end with the run to her credit, and the match won for St. Cyprian's by four wickets.