Nothing could have been more appropriate for exciting athletic affairs than the name which had been given to this high school in honor of a distinguished public servant, interested in education. It scarcely needs to be explained that the football team of Lyon High was called the lions, on and off the gridiron, or that posters and the school paper carried fierce-looking drawings and cartoons of the King of Beasts in action. A golden yellow, relieved by black, in the costumes of the Lyon High band and in the sweaters of the team was supposed to suggest the tawny coat of what could “eat up” any other team in short order. Lions figured largely in various badges and insignia of all sorts. Betty Lee had early decided that she must some day wear one of the pins or rings that bore the “Lyon High Lion.”
Oh, it was good to stow away books in the freshman lockers and hurry with the rest of the big crowd to find seats in the stadium, seats where one could see everything!
The girls lost little time at their lockers. “Come on, Betty,” called Carolyn. “I’ve got some newspapers to sit on. Yes, I should say bring your coat! Your sweater won’t be enough. I promised Mother to wear a coat and wouldn’t have needed to promise, either. I don’t care to freeze myself.”
This was not the first game. That had been duly played in the home stadium, not so long after Carolyn’s garden party, and Betty had felt all the thrills of seeing the great stadium come to life for the first time in her experience. After this big school, college could not bring her more! Yet thrills could be repeated. Never would this place become so accustomed, Betty was sure, that she would not have them. Then, this was the GREAT GAME. It was the one between the two largest high schools of the city and was an annual occurrence, long heralded, the great game for which the teams prepared. There had been a lively meeting in the auditorium beforehand, that very morning. The championship was at stake! “Oh,” said Betty, “I don’t see how I can stand it if the Lions don’t beat!”
“Don’t suggest such a thing,” Peggy called back. “Of course we’ll beat!”
There was a large crowd, parents and friends included, as well as many alumni of the high school, who were interested enough and loyal enough to see at least this one chief contest every year. But Carolyn, Betty and Peggy, with some of the other girls, were among the first among those dismissed from the last Friday classes. Their season tickets were punched at the stadium entrance before the stadium was appreciably filled.
“We’ve a grand choice, girls. Hurry!” Carolyn tripped rapidly down the steps in the lead.
“Down there, back of those boys, Carolyn!” called Peggy, who knew as well as Carolyn the “strategic point” that they wanted to reach if no one were ahead of them in securing it. “First come, first served here, you know, Betty,” Peggy added, hopping from one high step to another in a short cut.
Carolyn was spreading newspapers and holding them to keep them from being blown away in the slight breeze. “Sit on ’em in a hurry,” she laughingly urged, and settled herself on the further one, next to two of the teachers, who were spreading out a steamer rug. “Sensible girl,” said one, smiling down at Carolyn. “Is your coat warm enough?”
“Yes, Miss Heath, and we have on our sweaters beside. Peggy and I nearly froze at the University stadium last week, so we bundled up this time. Did you see the game with State, Miss Heath?”