Betty Lee, Freshman

by Harriet Pyne Grove

It seemed no time at all before they were in the car, driving to the school, which they had seen only in passing. The morning traffic was heavy and swift. Cars were making their rapid way in the direction of “town.” Street cars clattered. Trucks and buses avoided them by inches only. Overhead there was the occasional roar of a plane from the flying field.

At last they had reached the green campus of the school. “I’m glad we go here,” said Doris, “instead of to that school we saw where the grounds are all gravel.”

“That was a new building, Doris,” said her Dad, “the grounds are probably not finished.”

“I don’t think so, Papa,” returned Doris. “You know how the school board man at home said that there was no use in sodding our new school grounds because the boys would spoil it all playing ball and things. And they put gravel on it, and every time you fell down running it hurt like everything.”

Doris had no reply to this, for Mr. Lee was stopping before the concrete sidewalk that bordered the school grounds. “Hop out, children,” said he. “I’m sorry that I can’t stop with you. You know what the buildings are, however. Inquire your way to the office of the principal, you know. Sure you know what cars to take to get home?”

“Yes, Father,” Betty answered. “Dick promised to wait for Doris; so if they can’t find me they’ll go home together. My, what a crowd!”

Mr. Lee glanced with some fatherly pride at the little group of three that walked from the car to the entrance of the grounds. There a long walk, paved and lined with beautiful shrubbery, led to the impressive front of the building that spread so widely with its wings and corners. Then he detached himself from the rest of the cars that were either drawing up to discharge pupils or were parked in a long row along the curb. The Lee children were already lost in the kaleidoscope of moving boys and girls, of all ages, heights, and costumes, most of them very nice-looking, Betty’s father thought. He hoped that there would be no trouble about their entrance papers. Mrs. Lee could scarcely risk taking Amy Lou to the school, and he had told her that the children might just as well begin to depend on themselves, even if the city was new to them.

Nevertheless, it would have been better if it had been possible for a parent to accompany them, and no one knew that better than Mr. Lee. The hurry of their becoming settled had not been easy for any of them and a city offered many dangers, especially those of traffic. But as the fever of hurry had not yet infected them, it was likely that they would be careful in crossing streets and would observe the traffic regulations. He was glad to see that a traffic officer had been stationed at the school crossing.

“We look as well as most of them,” said Doris, though rather doubtfully, as she looked admiringly at a tall girl who was strolling by with a youth as tall as she. They were laughing and talking and the girl was wearing a silk dress as pretty and stylish, as light in color and as good, as Betty’s “Sunday frock,” Doris said.

“Yes,” said Betty, “but there’s every sort, and our pretty summer dresses that Mother made look all right. There–see that awfully pretty girl, Doris. Her green dress is trimmed with white organdy exactly like your blue one!”