The Junior Trophy

by Ralph Henry Barbour

And a bully time they had that next forenoon. To be sure, a few day students appeared at the slide, but the four juniors had things pretty much to themselves for all of that. They had their pick of the school toboggans and the added satisfaction of knowing that the hated enemy was envying them. For Lanny’s prophecy had proved true, and the offending upper grade fellows had been sentenced to house bounds for the entire morning.

Nan, in a fetching white blanket coat with red border and a white and red toque, joined them at their invitation, and, in order to show no partiality, alternately went down with Bert and Kid and Lanny and Small. Small was in high feather this morning, and talked a good deal about how he had scared the upper grade fellows into fits by hurling himself down the slide after them. Small finally actually got to believe that he had really performed that sensational feat on purpose.

It was a cloudy Saturday, but crisp and cold, and the slide was very fast. Starting at the platform, there came a breath-taking rush down the icy boards, then a little bump as the toboggan took the ground, then a slackening of speed for a moment over the level ground, then a long dip down the meadow hill, a little rise, and another and steeper descent and finally a gradual lessening of speed in the fields above the river, the whole trip over almost before one could really settle down to appreciation of it. Then came the long tramp back, cheeks crimson and hearts merry. There was only one spill all that morning, and that came when Lanny, yielding at last to the imploring of Small, allowed that youth to occupy the back of the toboggan. They had Nan with them that trip, and just after they had reached the level Small managed in some way to shift his position so that the toboggan plunged over the bank and sent them all sprawling in the soft snow. Nan declared, as she shook the snow off, that upsetting was lots of fun, and thereafter went down each time with the hope that the toboggan would overturn!

But it never did again, and dinner time came all too soon. Not, however, that they were lacking in appetite. Bert declared that he could eat wire nails, while Kid, not to be outdone in picturesqueness of language, maintained that a “raw dog would suit him finely!” Their appetites contrasted strongly with those of the upper grade fellows who had been mooning around indoors all the morning, and Cupples, watching Lanny eat, sighed enviously.

At two o’clock the big sleigh came to the door to take those who wished to ride down to the river where the annual ice carnival was to be held. A few of the older boys went on snowshoes, and Kid started off alone with his sled, but the others piled into the sleigh, which had a seat running lengthwise at each side. Everyone went, even the Doctor and Mrs. Merton; and Nan, of course. The river was frozen a good five inches and save where, here and there near shore, a snow-field hid the surface, was in the best of shape for the races. A fire was started on the bank and the Doctor and Mrs. Merton made themselves comfortable with robes from the sleigh. Everyone else, including Mr. Crane and Mr. Folsom, who had the affair in charge, donned skates and took to the surface. Most of the day students were on hand, and by half past two practically all of Mt. Pleasant Academy was there, one of the few absentees being Kid. But Kid arrived in time to see the finish of the two-hundred-yard dash, panting and puffing and pulling his beloved sled behind him.

Spooner, one of the day boys, a short, round-faced chap who looked like anything but a fast skater, won the first event. Spooner, in spite of his appearance, was a wonder on skates, and by reason of that ability had won the captaincy of the Day Hockey team. Other races followed; a quarter-mile event for seniors and upper middlers, a race of the same distance for lower middlers and juniors, a half-mile handicap and finally a rescue race of a quarter of a mile. Ben Holden distanced the entire field of five in the senior quarter-mile event, Cupples captured the next, with Lanny a close second, and the half-mile handicap, which started with sixteen entries, went to a day student, while Sam Perkins fought every foot of the distance and managed to finish only some six yards behind. There were prizes for first and second places, in each case a small pewter mug with the date and event engraved on it and a place for the winner’s name. Those mugs were highly prized and some of the seniors, during their three years at Mt. Pleasant, had managed to make a very creditable collection of them. Mr. Crane was kept pretty busy hustling the events off, while Mr. Folsom, looking as serious as ever, timed each event. As not even a school record was broken that day the time need not interest us.

Bert had entered in the handicap, but had finished a poor sixth, much to his chagrin since, although he was no hockey player, he rather prided himself on his skating. But the distance was too short for Bert to show up at his best, and when, after the rescue race was over, the two-mile handicap was announced Bert gave his name to Mr. Crane.

Before this, however, the rescue race had occasioned not a little excitement and a great deal of mirth. A quarter of a mile up the river from the starting place four small juniors, Kid, Small and two day students waited each with his ankles bound together with a skate strap. They wore no skates. At the word from Mr. Crane, Pierce, Waters, Lovell and a day student named Tucker dashed off up the ice. The first to arrive at the end of the course was at liberty to pick his boy, and, as Kid was several pounds lighter than any of the other three, the contestants all wanted Kid. Waters got him, beating the others by a few yards. Then the task was to return to the starting place with the rescued boy. They could carry him, pull him or push him; the only thing was to get him back. But the mode generally adopted was to get the rescued boy in front, seize him by the elbows and push him, the burden slanting his body back and sliding along on his heels. Of course, the rescued boy was required to aid to the extent of keeping his body stiff and his feet straight ahead. But it wasn’t so easy. Now and then one or other would double up, or his feet would swing aside, or his rescuer would lose his hold. In either case the result was usually a spill, with the rescuer and rescued ludicrously mixed up on the ice. Kid, in spite of his light weight, proved a troublesome burden, for he seemed unable to keep his feet straight for the goal and was forever swinging to one side or the other, occasioning Waters much trouble, two upsets and a loss of temper. Waters insisted afterwards that Kid did it on purpose. As for the justice of that charge I decline to give an opinion. Kid was Kid, and a law unto himself!

In the end Steve Lovell won with Small, who behaved beautifully all the way, and Pierce was second, Waters finishing a very bad fourth. During that race the upsets were not confined to the competitors, for most of the spectators skated along the edge of the course, applauding and encouraging and laughing, and more than one, unable to laugh and skate too, abandoned skating and decided to view the finish from a recumbent position.