The Girl from the Big Horn Country

by Mary Ellen Chase

There were but ten days more. Already it was examination week; already many of the traditional ceremonies and closing occasions had taken place. The Juniors had “picnicked” the Seniors, and the Seniors the Juniors; the cottage tennis finals had been played off, Overlook winning the doubles, and Bess Shepard being proclaimed the champion in the ensuing singles; the Senior ivy had been planted against the wall of the Retreat, and the old trowel presented with fitting remarks to the Junior president. By the cottages the Senior occupants had each planted her own slip of ivy, her name placed in a securely corked bottle, and buried beneath the roots of her plant. Thus in our own minds do we become immortal!

But the occasion upon which all thoughts were centered, and toward which all energies were bent, was the Senior Pageant, to be held on Tuesday afternoon of the closing week. On preceding Commencements, an out-of-door play had been the choice of the graduating class; but this year the Seniors, who had been throughout their four years unusually interested in History, had determined to give in place of the play a Historical Pageant. Each was to represent some character of History, legendary or ancient, mediaeval or modern, design and make her own costume, and dramatize the certain scene or scenes which she had chosen to portray. The Juniors and members of the lower classes, though not of importance as prominent characters, were yet of indispensable value as retainers, henchmen, pages, and the like.

“In fact,” said the Blackmore twins, who were the blindfolded headsmen, leading the procession of the doomed Mary Stuart to the block; “in fact, we may not seem very important, but we’re the setting and they couldn’t do without us!”

For weeks, even for months, they had been making preparations and holding rehearsals. The place chosen for the pageant was the level strip of meadow south of the campus. Directly back of it lay the Retreat woods, which were very convenient for the disappearance of the characters when their parts were finished, and especially so for Martin Luther, who had to nail his ninety-five theses on the door of the Retreat. On the left the road led to St. Helen’s; on the right stretched more woodland; while immediately in front of the ground chosen for the performance, a gently sloping hillside formed a splendid amphitheater from which the audience was to view the pageant. Nature had surely done her best to provide an ideal situation; and the girls were going to try to do as well.

Virginia had found her services in great demand, and she was glad and proud to give them. Anne had determined to be her beloved Joan of Arc, and had planned to appear in three scenes—in the forest of Domremy, where she listened to the voices; in the company of the old village priest, with whom she talked of her visions; and finally on the journey toward the Dauphin, whom she was to recognize among his courtiers. In the last scene a horse was necessary, for Joan, clad in armor, rode, accompanied by the old priest and two knights. Also, the Black Prince clamored for a war-horse; Augustus said he never could be august without one; and Roland refused to die in the Pass of Roncesvalles, unless he could first fall from his panting steed! Matters early in the spring having come to a halt over the horse problem, Miss King was consulted, and upon Virginia’s assurance, ably seconded by that of Mr. Hanly, that Napoleon would be a perfectly safe addition to the troupe, his services were engaged for rehearsals and final performance alike, and he was installed in St. Helen’s stable, so as to be on hand whenever desired.

Joan, never having been on a horse before, though born and bred in the South, needed considerable instruction, as did the other equestrian actresses; and Virginia found herself installed as riding-mistress for a good many hours each week. Napoleon did not seem averse to his part in the pageant, though sometimes he shook his head disdainfully when the Black Prince strapped some armor over it, and objected slightly to the trappings which Augustus felt necessary for his successful entry into Rome. Virginia’s saddle, bedecked for the occasion, was found adequate for all the riders; and after many, many attempts, followed by very frank criticisms from the riding-mistress, most of the performers could mount and dismount with something resembling ease. Virginia, knowing well Napoleon’s variety of gaits, did not hope for equestrianism on the part of the riders. If they could only get on safely, sit fairly straight, and get off without catching their feet or clothing, she would rest content; and though Roland and the Black Prince were determined to use their spurs and come out from the forest on the gallop, Virginia, having raised them from the ground after two of these disastrous attempts, urged them with all her might to allow Napoleon to walk, which he was very glad to do.

But Joan, it must be admitted, found her last act a trying one. Though she mounted in the recesses of the forest, and could have all the assistance she needed, to ride before the audience, holding her spear aloft in one hand, and driving with the other was well-nigh impossible, especially when she longed to grasp the saddle-horn; and lastly, to dismount safely, without catching on some part of that fearful saddle and irretrievably loosening her armor, was an act she feared and dreaded day and night.

“Oh, why did I choose to be Joan!” she cried, as Virginia, at a private rehearsal, raised her from the ground after at least the twentieth attempt to dismount. “I just can’t do it!”

“Yes, you can,” encouraged her instructor, who, when occasion demanded, coached the dramatic appearance as well as the equestrian. “You’re beautiful when you hear the voices in the forest, and when you talk with the old priest, you’re thrilling! Only, I do wish Lucile would be more priestly. Of course, she speaks French wonderfully, but she isn’t one bit like a priest. It’s too bad, when you’re so wonderful in that scene.”

“Well, you see, she didn’t want to be the priest, anyway. She wanted to be the Black Prince’s sweetheart.”