“Come up here, Kid,” called out Talitha. “Here’s Gincy and Mallie and all of the girls.”
In a moment Kid felt as though he had been in Bentville a week. He was hailed cordially by all of the Goose Creek people and immediately set to work breaking branches for trimming, and hanging banners under the direction of Lalla. “We’ve got to be awfully quiet,” she whispered. “It’s only a half-hour before the doors are opened and two of the graduates have to rehearse yet.”
From his vantage ground above, Kid looked down at the critics on the front seat and the tall, dark young man who had begun to speak. What a contrast the clear, ringing tones were to those of the mountain orators he had heard. For a moment he almost forgot to help Lalla and stood, his arms full of pine branches, listening intently to the oration.
“Hurry, Kid,” reminded Lalla. “We’ve got to drag this litter out and just rush over to the chapel to see them form in line; there isn’t a minute to spare.”
The musical peal of a bell and the rat-tat-tat of a drum decided the matter. In less than five minutes the two were crossing the campus in the rear of a number of stragglers who were hurrying to see the long procession begin its march.
XVIII
COMMENCEMENT TIME AT BENTVILLE
Talitha, from her room in the hall, saw the oxen toiling up the hill just as the chapel bell was ringing. She had rushed over from the Tabernacle to dress and get back before the lines were formed. In fifteen minutes the bell would begin to toll and the procession start. Her father and mother must not miss it. She opened the door and sped down the corridor to Gincy’s room.
“Girls,” she called out, pounding on the door insistently, “the folks are almost here. Can’t one of you go down and bring them up to my room—your mother and my mother, Gincy? The rest can go on; you can tell them where to hitch.”
Gincy needed no second bidding; she fairly flew downstairs and out of doors. At the side gate she stood for a moment and peered into the faces of the crowd. Presently she spied the objects of her search. The big red ox and the one with the white star on his forehead were coming her way. Sudie and Billy waved their hands, her father smiled, and Sam Coyle’s indolent figure seemed to grow in stature. Only the two sunbonneted women on the back seat appeared quiet and indifferent, but Gincy knew that inwardly they were far from it.
“Talitha saw you from her room,” she said after the first greeting. “Jump right out and we’ll go up there; she’s rushing to get ready for the exercises and there are only a few minutes left.”