Polly's Senior Year at Boarding School Part 22

"That's the first verse."

"Go on," Lois prompted, "I like it."

"Each daughter has shared In the wealth of her days.

United, we join In singing her praise.

"There's a limitless depth To her bounteous store, And yearly she gives Of her riches the more.

"And when the time comes When each must depart, The memory of Seddon Hall Will remain in our heart."

"Somehow it sounds better when it's sung," Betty said, wonderingly. The poem was not quite up to her expectations, but Lois' enthusiasm banished all doubts.

"I think it's great, and I know the others will too. Isn't it a relief to have it finished? All my poster needs now is the printing, and Maud's promised to do it for me in Old English Script."

"Fine, but put your things away, and let's go over to Fannie's room.

Those cakes call." Betty smacked her lips in antic.i.p.ation as she helped Lois collect her materials.

f.a.n.n.y was singing as they entered Junior Mansions. It was an old Negro melody, and the crooning notes were soft and beautiful.

"Why I didn't know f.a.n.n.y could sing," Polly exclaimed in surprise, and the rest stopped to listen.

"'Swing low, sweet chariot-- I'se comin' for to carry you home'"--

The music ended abruptly, and they heard the rattle of the cups.

"Why didn't you ever tell us you had a beautiful voice?" demanded Betty between cookies, a few minutes later. "You ought to be studying."

"The very idea!" f.a.n.n.y laughed in reply.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you you had before?" Lois asked wonderingly.

But f.a.n.n.y shook her head.

"I reckon they none of them ever had time to pay any attention to me,"

she said. "They were always busy listening to my cousin."

"Which cousin?" Polly inquired.

"Caroline," f.a.n.n.y said. "We were brought up together, and when we were little, Mammy Jones used to say: 'Honey, the only way for to do, if you wants to sing, is to swaller a hummin' bird.' One day Caroline came in and said 'she had swallowed one.' Well, later, she did develop a lovely voice you know, and poor mammy believed till the day she died that 'Miss Carrie had done swallered a hummin' bird.'" The girls were delighted.

"How rare," Betty chuckled.

"Bless her old heart," Polly added. "Where's Caroline now?"

"In Was.h.i.+ngton. She's studying both voice and piano."

"I don't believe her voice is any sweeter than yours," Lois insisted.

f.a.n.n.y shook her head.

"Maybe not, but everybody thinks so, so there you are. Carrie just naturally does get ahead of me in everything. I told you she cut me out with one of my beaux," she added, laughing at herself. "A thing she could never have done two months before."

Three days later the discovery of Fannie's voice proved of much more importance than any of the girls had foreseen. Evelin Hatfield, who had a very clear soprano voice, and who had been cast for the solo parts in the concert, came down with tonsilitis and had to go to the Infirmary.

The Seniors met in English room to discuss finding a subst.i.tute, after Miss King had a.s.sured them that there was no chance of Evelin's immediate recovery.

"Of course it's a Senior concert, and as long as I can remember no one has ever helped them out, but our cla.s.s is hopeless," Lois said.

"Evelin's was the only real voice, except yours, Ange, and you're already cast for the King. Do you think you could take the page's part in 'Good King Wenceslas,' Dot?" she asked Dorothy Lansing.

"Goodness! No! Why, I'd be scared to death," she answered hastily.

"Then there's nothing to do, but to ask one of the Juniors to help us,"

Polly said decidedly. "She could leave the platform when we sang our song."

The rest agreed. "But who?" Helen inquired.

"f.a.n.n.y Gerard has a sweet voice, and I know she knows the carols," Betty said, "and she's a Junior."

There was a little discussion before f.a.n.n.y was selected, but in the end Betty carried her point.

The few days before the musical were taken up with rehearsals. The party was to be very informal--just something to do on the last night. The Seniors sang carols in costumes and later on served light refreshments.

f.a.n.n.y was delighted to sing. The day of the concert she went out with Polly and Lois to get evergreen branches to decorate the hall with, and between them they turned the platform into a veritable forest.

By seven-thirty the school was a.s.sembled, and at a quarter to eight the Seniors entered. They marched around the room and up to the platform singing: "G.o.d rest ye, Merry Gentlemen." f.a.n.n.y's clear voice was so above the others that the girls and teachers began to whisper among themselves. There was a lull of expectancy as they began "Good King Wenceslas looked out on the feast of Stephan."

Angela, who was dressed as the King, sang her part:

"Haste thee, page, and stand by me, If thou knowest it telling, Yonder peasant, who is he?

Where, and what, his dwelling?"

With so much expression that the deficiency of her voice was overlooked.

But it was f.a.n.n.y, in her green page suit that was to score the triumph of the evening. She stepped out a little from the others, when her turn came to answer the King.

"Sire, he lives a good league hence-- Underneath the mountain.

Right beyond the forest fence By Saint Agnes' fountain."

Her notes were full and beautiful, and the sympathetic quality of her voice enchanted her audience. They broke out into enthusiastic applause.

"I told you so," Betty whispered as f.a.n.n.y bowed her thanks.

The rest of the evening may be truly said to have belonged to f.a.n.n.y.

Even the Seniors' cla.s.s song was hurriedly applauded, so that she might return to the platform.

The girls made her sit down at the piano when the carols were over, and sing them song after song.

At nine o'clock, Betty insisted that she stop long enough to have some refreshments.

"You all don't really think I can sing, do you?" she asked seriously, when they had joined Polly and Lois and Angela.

"Of course we do," everybody told her with enthusiasm.