It had all been said in Miss Preston’s irresistibly funny way, and was greeted with shouts of laughter. Toinette and Cicely had learned something new. All now crowded about her urging her to accept some of their goodies, and, joining heartily in the spirit of good-comradeship, she took a sweetie from first one box and then another. Possibly another person, with a stricter regard for Mrs. Grundy’s extremely refined sensibilities, might have hesitated to walk along the highways surrounded by half a dozen boys and girls, all chattering as hard as their tongues could wag, and munching cream-peppermints; but Miss Preston’s motto was “Vis in ute,” and, with the fine instinct so often wanting in those who have young characters to form, she looked upon the question from their side, feeling sure that sooner or later would arise questions which she would wish them to regard from hers; and therein lay the key-note of her success.
She would no more have thought of raising the barrier of teacher and pupil between herself and her girls than she would have thought of depriving them of something necessary to their physical welfare. The girls were her friends and she theirs—their best and truest, to whom they might come with their joys or their sorrows, sure of her sympathy with either, and, rather than cast a shadow upon their confidence, she would have toiled up the hill with the whole school swarming about her, and an express-wagon of sweets following close behind. That was the secret of her wonderful power over them. They never realized the disparity between their own ages and hers, because she had never forgotten when life was young.
CHAPTER VI
DULL AND PROSY
It is to be hoped that those who read this story will not run off with the idea that I am trying to set Miss Preston’s school up as a model in every sense of the word, for I am not. I am simply trying to tell a story of boarding-school life as it really was “once upon a time.” And I think that I ought to be able to tell it pretty correctly, having seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears many of the pranks related. The methods followed and the results obtained may be believed or not; that rests with the individual reading. Long ago, in my own childhood days, our “old Virginy” cook used to say to me: “La, chile, dey’s a heap sight mo’ flies ketched wid ’lasses dan vingegar,” and I have come to the conclusion that she had truth on her side.
The girls were by no means saints. Saints, after all, are rather ethereal creatures, and Miss Preston’s girls were real flesh and blood lassies, brimful of life and fun, and, like most lassies, ready for a good time.
As Ruth had said, there were no rules; that is, the girls were never told that they must not do this, or that they must do the other thing. A spirit of courtesy dominated everything, and a subtle influence pervaded the entire school, bringing about desired results without words. The girls understood that all possible liberty would be granted them, and that their outgoings and incomings would be exactly such as would be allowed them in their own homes, and if some were inclined to abuse that liberty they soon learned where license began.
No school turned out better equipped girls, and none held a higher standard in college examinations. A Sunny Bank diploma was a sure passport. When the girls worked they worked hard, and when playtime came it was enjoyed to the full. Naturally, with so many dispositions surrounding her, Miss Preston often in secret floundered in a “slough of despond,” for that which could influence one girl for her good might prove a complete failure when brought to bear upon another. Never was the old adage, “What is one man’s meat is another man’s poison,” more truly illustrated.