Marie ruminated. “Does a team ever have more than one mascot?” she demanded at last.
Connie said no. “It would be like carrying a purse full of lucky pennies,” she explained primly. “One mascot is enough.”
Marie considered. “If there’s no rule against more than one,” she announced at last, “I think a whole row stuck up in the freshman gallery—popping out one at a time, you know, when things were going against us—would be sort of rattling—if you ask me.”
“Where’d you keep them till they popped?” inquired a practical freshman.
Marie shrugged. “Ask Connie.”
“In the boxes that the back row of girls stand on, couldn’t you?” suggested Connie promptly.
“Of course,” agreed the freshman president.
“Well, what could we have for the extra ones?” pursued the practical freshman.
“Class animal,” suggested somebody.
“Black Mandy’s Jimmie,” suggested somebody else. “Little Mandy will curl up and cry when she sees all the people staring at her, but Jimmie would be game for anything.”