“But they ought to realize,” said Babbie loftily, “that in a big college like Harding very few people can have a chance to be at the head of things. Our commencement is pretty enough to pay our families for coming even if the girls they are particularly interested in don’t have parts. Being on a committee isn’t a part anyway.”
“Girls who are never on them think it is,” said Helen Adams.
There was an ominous silence.
At the end of it Babbie slipped out of the hammock and sat down beside Betty on the grass. “It’s no use at all fighting you, Betty Wales,” she declared amiably. “You always twist the things we don’t want to do around until they seem simple and easy and no more than decent. Of course it’s true that we are all tired to death doing things that the left-outs will be blissful at the prospect of helping us with. But it’s been so every year and no other class ever turned its play and its commencement upside down. And yet you make it seem the only reasonable thing to do.”
“Lucky our class-meeting happened to be postponed,” said Bob in matter-of-fact tones, “Makes it easier arranging things.”
“A coöperative commencement will send us out with a splurge all right,” remarked Babe.
Thus the B’s made a graceful concession to the policy of trying more experiments with 19—’s commencement.
“One man, one office—that’s our slogan,” declared Katherine, when Babe had announced that the vote in favor of Betty’s plan was unanimous. “No hard and fast policy, but the general encouragement of passing around the honors. I haven’t but one myself, so I shall have to look on and see that the rest of you do your duty.”
“Let’s make a list of the vacancies that will probably occur in our midst, as it were,” suggested Rachel.
“I wonder if we couldn’t lengthen the Ivy Day program and make room for a few more girls in that way,” put in Eleanor. “The oration and the song don’t take any time at all.”