"It is a yell, Tommy."
"A yell? I can yell."
"I don't mean it in that way. Something like a high school or a college yell. We are the Meadow-Brook Girls, you know. We have a name, now we must have a yell."
"Oh, Mith Elting, give uth a yell, a loud one," urged Tommy, her eyes sparkling.
Miss Elting smiled tolerantly.
"You had better arrange one to suit yourselves," she answered. "Harriet, you will have to provide the yell now that you have suggested it."
Harriet already had a pencil in her hand. She sat holding the pencil poised above the fly leaf of a book that she had brought along to read, but had not up to this moment, so much as opened. Her brow was wrinkled in thought. Tommy was regarding her keenly.
"Well, aren't you going to yell!"
All at once Harriet's face relaxed. She began to write. Margery craned her neck to see what was being written, but Harriet held the cover of the book in such a position that Buster could not see what was being jotted down.
"It isn't polite to look over another person's shoulder in that way," reproved Hazel.