“You know, my great Aunt Patricia, Pattie to her chums, came here when Sheridan was a Seminary for young ladies, I mean ladies. Did they have it easy? Needle work, china painting, French and grammar. Penmanship was a heavy course. Imagine! I’ve heard Aunt Pattie tell what an enormous place Sheridan seemed to her when Uncle Mose and her father drove her up the drive in the family barouche. Prep Hall was all there was here then. The rest of the building has been added. She was being left all of twenty-two miles from home. Think where my Mother and Daddy are! Uncle Mose, the coachman begged his little Missie not to forget him while she was ‘getting edicated’ and her father kissed her solemnly on the forehead and gave her a Bible marked with daily readings.”
“But what about the fudge party?” Betsy interrupted. She knew all about the founding of Sheridan and its growth from a small private Seminary to a Preparatory School with college course added; how it was outgrowing finishing school requirements and, by abolishing the preparatory department all together next year, would be an A-1 accredited college for women. Not that Sheridan tradition bored her, but tonight her main interest was fudge. “It’s cool enough for seconds,” she added, as Mimi continued.
“Aunt Pattie was full of fun. She didn’t do anything bad or break any big rules, but she got plenty of demerits.”
“Don’t we all?” interpolated Sue.
“This night of the fudge party things were just getting in full swing, when there was a rap on the door. Some one snuffed the candle quickly. The window was open and they hoped the smell would go out. Each girl sat or stood as she had been, you know like slinging statutes—and hoped that the matron would go on. But she didn’t!
“Aunt Pattie had all the demerits she could have that term so she was scared stiff. In spite of all her hopes the door opened and there stood the matron holding an old timey oil lamp in front of her. The hall proctor was close behind her. Before either of them had time to make out any of the girls’ faces, the suction sucked the light out. Aunt Pattie did some desperate thinking and then did a desperate thing.
“Knowing that if the matron succeeded in lighting her lamp again they were all in for it, while the matron fumbled for a match, Aunt Pattie crept toward her on all fours. When her hair lightly brushed the matron’s heavy skirt, she stopped. For one calculating second she checked her bearing, then swift as a shot and sure as a good marksman, she jumped up to her full height knocking the lamp out of the matron’s hands! Wide flew the oil, the wick, the base.
“In the panic which followed the girls fled to their rooms. Other than the girls who were hostesses to the party, only one girl was caught—”
“Not Aunt Pattie?” from three distressed voices.
“Yes, Aunt Pattie.”