Avalon, in green sweater and cap, led the singing, completely transformed from the homesick girl Cathalina first knew. Isabel, with characteristic energy, led the fierce yell, “Br-rr-rr-ah-zoom! zoom! Freshmen!” Isabel looked funny enough, stooping to the ground as she had seen her brothers do, carrying the “Br-rr” along as in her two hands and waving her arms wildly on “Freshmen!”
Cathalina joined in the literally violent applause given the Freshmen and bid fair to become as crazy as the rest. She had written a song for the Juniors and was anxious to hear how it would sound.
Like the rest, the Junior song leader was excited and marshalled her forces with much enthusiasm. “Now put some ‘pep’ into it, girls,” she cried, “ready,—sing!”
Greycliff Juniors bold are we,
Strong and hearty as you see;
Baskets?—we can make them all,
When our team plays basketball!
Run and go,
Catch each throw,
’Rah-rah, Juniors! Greycliff Hall!
Don’t you wish you had our team?
Watch them when they get up steam!
Juliet’s swift and can not fall;
You can never budge old Paul!
Yells and din,
Juniors win!
Junior ’Cademy! Greycliff Hall!
“Imagine the elegant Cathalina making up a song like that when she first came to Greycliff!” Isabel had said, and Cathalina did not more than half like it, though Isabel’s intentions were entirely complimentary, as Cathalina knew.
One small section of seats held the lady teachers. The “Gym” teacher was walking here and there, talking occasionally to the referee. The latter was a fine looking girl, lithe and tall, with blonde hair braided and wrapped tightly around her head. Blouse, bloomers and stockings were of black silk and she was the embodiment of grace and swiftness as she blew her whistle and ran hither and yon after the game commenced.
By lot it was determined that the Juniors were to play the Sophomores and the Freshmen the Seniors, an arrangement which was hard on the Freshmen because their defeat was so immediate and crushing. It was humiliating, also, in point of score. The contest between the Sophomores and Juniors was more even, and accordingly more interesting; but the Juniors won, and at the last ran up quite a score.
Then came the most exciting contest of all, between the two winning teams, Junior and Senior Academy. Teams and classes were quivering with expectation. The Junior team expected victory, but knew that it must be hard won if won at all. “It helps a lot, girls,” said Hilary, “to think you can beat ’em if you try hard enough. I just feel in my bones that we can,—now shall we do it?” The Seniors were alive to the disgrace of being beaten by a younger class, and knowing that the Junior team was a strong one, they prepared for a struggle.
The referee blew her whistle. She tossed the ball and the two centers jumped eagerly. At once it became the property of the Senior girls, whose guarding was fine and determination desperate. Not a chance did the Juniors have until the Seniors had made two baskets amid shrieks of delight from Senior “rooters” and the encouraging yells of Juniors to their team. Then the tide turned for a time. A Senior girl fumbled and the ball was Hilary’s, who played left forward. A quick and accurate toss put it through the basket, while Juniors this time shrieked and applauded. In the next play Juliet caught the ball and tossed it over her head,—to come down through the basket! Four baskets the Juniors made in the midst of wild applause or breathless moments of anxiety. A close struggle followed, each side striving to gain the advantage.
In unwise partisanship, a Senior girl was guilty of a foul, and Hilary was called out to try for the basket. Silence reigned while Captain Hilary stood facing the basket with the ball between her hands. She measured the distance and with an easy lift tossed the ball straight above the basket, through which it dropped to the floor. Senior successes followed, and at the end of the first half the score was even.