“Here’s to our Miss Ferris, drink her down!
Here’s to our Miss Ferris, may she never, never perish!
Drink her down, drink her down, drink her down, down, down!”
Back by the door there was a sudden commotion, and the sophomore faction broke out into tumultuous applause as a tall and stately gentleman appeared carrying a “shower bouquet” of daffodils with a border and streamers of violets.
“Here’s to Dr. Hinsdale, he’s the finest man within hail!
Drink him down, drink him down, drink him down, down, down!”
sang the sophomores.
“There is a team of great renown,”
began the freshmen lustily. What did the sophomores mean by clapping so? Ah! Miss Andrews was opening a door.
“They’re coming!” cried Betty eagerly.
“Only the sophomore subs,” amended the junior next to her. “So please don’t stick your elbow into me.”
“Excuse me,” said Betty hastily. “Oh Helen, there’s Katherine!”
Through the door at one side of the stage the freshman subs were coming, through the other the sophomores. Out on the floor of the gym they ran, all in their dark blue gym suits with green or purple stripes on the right sleeves, tossing their balls from hand to hand, throwing them into the baskets, bouncing them adroitly out of one another’s reach, trying to appear as unconcerned as if a thousand people were not applauding them madly and singing songs about them and wondering which of them would get a chance to play in the great game. In a moment a little whistle blew and the subs found their places on the edge of the stage, where they sat in a restive, eager row, each girl in readiness to take the field the moment she should be needed.