GRACE HARLOWE'S SOPHOMORE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL

or

The Record of the Girl Chums in Work and Athletics

by

JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M.

Author of Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's
Junior Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High School,
etc.

Illustrated

Philadelphia
Henry Altemus Company

1911







[Illustration: "The Sophomores Will Not Submit to Such Impositions."

_Frontispiece--High School Girls No. 2._]



CONTENTS


CHAPTER

I. A DECLARATION OF WAR

II. THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR

III. A GENEROUS APPEAL

IV. AN UNFORTUNATE AVIATOR

V. ON THE EVE OF BATTLE

VI. THE DEEPEST POSSIBLE DISGRACE

VII. GATHERING CLOUDS

VIII. THE PRICE OF FRIENDSHIP

IX. AN UNSUCCESSFUL INTERVIEW

X. THE SOPHOMORE BALL

XI. A LION AT LAST

XII. THE WAYS OF SCHOOLGIRLS

XIII. A SKATING PARTY

XIV. A BRAVE RESCUE

XV. A BELATED REPENTANCE

XVI. AN OUNCE OF LOYALTY

XVII. BURYING THE HATCHET

XVIII. AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR

XIX. THE GREAT GAME

XX. A PIECE OF NEWS

XXI. ANNE AND GRACE COMPARE NOTES

XXII. A RESCUE AND A REFORM

XXIII. GRACE MEETS A DISTINGUISHED CHARACTER

XXIV. COMMENCEMENT





CHAPTER I

A DECLARATION OF WAR


"Anne, you will never learn to do a side vault that way. Let me show you,"
exclaimed Grace Harlowe.

The gymnasium was full of High School girls, and a very busy and
interesting picture they made, running, leaping, vaulting, passing the
medicine ball and practising on the rings.

In one corner a class was in progress, the physical culture instructor
calling out her orders like an officer on parade.

The four girl chums had grown somewhat taller than when last seen. A rich
summer-vacation tan had browned their faces and Nora O'Malley's tip-tilted
Irish nose was dotted with freckles. All four were dressed in gymnasium
suits of dark blue and across the front of each blouse in letters of
sky-blue were the initials "O.H.S.S." which stood for "Oakdale High
School Sophomore." They were rather proud of these initials, perhaps
because the lettering was still too recent to have lost its novelty.

"Never mind," replied Anne Pierson; "I don't believe I shall ever learn,
it, but, thank goodness, vaulting isn't entirely necessary to human
happiness."

"Thank goodness it isn't," observed Jessica, who never really enjoyed
gymnasium work.

"It is to mine," protested Grace, glowing with exercise and enthusiasm.
"If I couldn't do every one of these stunts I should certainly lie awake
at night grieving over it."

She gave a joyous laugh as she vaulted over the wooden horse as easily and
gracefully as an acrobat.

"I'd much rather dance," replied Anne. "Ever since Mrs. Gray's Christmas
party I've wanted to learn."

"Why Anne," replied Grace, "I had forgotten that you don't dance. I'll
give you a lesson at once. But you must first learn to waltz, then all
other dancing will be easy."

"Just watch me while I show you the step," Grace continued.

"Now, yon try it while I count for you."

"One, two, three. One, two, three. That's right. Just keep on practising,
until you are sure of yourself; then if Jessica will play for us, I'll
waltz with you."

"With pleasure," said Jessica, "Anne must learn to waltz. Her education in
dancing mustn't be neglected another minute."

Anne patiently practised the step while Jessica played a very slow waltz
on the piano and Grace counted for Anne. Then the two girls danced
together, and under Grace's guidance Anne found waltzing wasn't half as
hard as she had imagined it would be.

By this time the gymnasium was almost empty. The class in physical culture
had been dismissed, and the girls belonging to it had withdrawn to the
locker rooms to dress and go home. The four girl chums were practically
alone.

"I do wish the rest of the basketball team would put in an appearance,"
said Grace, as she and Anne stopped to rest. "We need every minute we can
get for practice. The opening game is so very near, and it's really
difficult to get the gymnasium now, for the juniors seem to consider it
their especial possession. One would think they had leased it for the
season."

"They are awfully mean, I think," said Nora O'Malley. "They weren't at all
nice to us last year when we were freshmen and they were sophomores. Even
the dignity of being juniors doesn't seem to improve them any. They are
just as hateful as ever."

"Most of the juniors are really nice girls, but it is due to Julia Crosby
that they behave so badly," said Jessica Bright thoughtfully, "She leads
them, into all kinds of mischief. She is a born trouble-maker."

"She is one of the rudest girls I have ever known," remarked Nora with
emphasis. "How Miriam Nesbit can tolerate her is more than I can see."

"Well," said Grace, "it is hardly a case of toleration. Miriam seems
really fond of her."

"Hush!" said Anne, who had been silently listening to the conversation.
"Here comes the rest of the team, and Miriam is with them."

Readers of the preceding volume of this series, "GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE
YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL," need no introduction to Grace Harlowe and her girl
chums. In that volume was narrated the race for the freshman prize, so
generously offered each year by Mrs. Gray, sponsor of the freshman class,
and the efforts of Miriam Nesbit aided by the disagreeable teacher of
algebra, Miss Leece, to ruin the career of Anne Pierson, the brightest
pupil of Oakdale High School. Through the loyalty and cleverness of Grace
and her friends, the plot was brought to light and Anne was vindicated.

Many and varied were the experiences which fell to the lot of the High
School girls. The encounter with an impostor, masquerading as Mrs. Gray's
nephew, Tom Gray, the escape from wolves in Upton Woods, and Mrs. Gray's
Christmas ball proved exciting additions to the routine of school work.

The contest between Grace and Miriam Nesbit for the basketball captaincy,
resulting in Grace's subsequent election, was also one of the interesting
features of the freshman year.

The beginning of the sophomore year found Miriam Nesbit in a most
unpleasant frame of mind toward Grace and her friends. The loss of the
basketball captaincy had been a severe blow to Miriam's pride, and she
could not forgive Grace her popularity.

As she walked across the gymnasium followed by the other members of the
team, her face wore a sullen expression which deepened as her eyes rested
upon Grace, and she nodded very stiffly to the young captain. Grace, fully
aware of the coldness of Miriam's salutation, returned it as courteously
as though Miriam had been one of her particular friends. Long before this
Grace had made up her mind to treat Miriam as though nothing disagreeable
had ever happened. There was no use in holding a grudge.

"If Miriam once realizes that we are willing to overlook some things
which happened last year," Grace had confided to Anne, "perhaps her better
self will come to the surface. I am sure she has a better self, only she
has never given it a chance to develop."

Anne did not feel quite so positive as to the existence of Miriam's better
self, but agreed with Grace because she adored her.

The entire team having assembled, Grace lost no time in assigning the
players to their various positions.

"Miriam will you play one of the forwards?" she asked.

"Who is going to play center?" queried Miriam ignoring Grace's question.

"Why the girls have asked me to play," replied Grace.

"If I cannot play center," announced Miriam shrugging her shoulders, "I
shall play nothing."

A sudden silence fell upon the group of girls, who, amazed at Miriam's
rudeness, awaited Grace's answer.

Stifling her desire to retort sharply, Grace said? "Why Miriam, I didn't
know you felt that way about it. Certainly you may play center if you wish
to. I am sure I don't wish to seem selfish."

This was too much for Nora O'Malley, who deeply resented Miriam's attitude
toward Grace.

"We want our captain for center," she said. "Don't we, girls?"

"Yes," chorused the girls.

It was a humiliating moment for proud Miriam. Grace realized this and felt
equally embarrassed at their outspoken preference.

Then Miriam said with a contemptuous laugh, "Really, Miss Harlowe, I
congratulate you upon your loyal support. It is a good thing to have
friends at court. However, it is immaterial to me what position I play,
for I am not particularly enthusiastic over basketball. The juniors are
sure to win at any rate."

A flush mounted to Grace's cheeks at Miriam's insulting words. Controlling
her anger, she said quietly:

"Very well, I will play center." Then she rapidly named the other players.

This last formality having been disposed of, the team lined up for
practice. Soon the game was at its height. Miriam in the excitement of the
play, forgot her recently avowed indifference toward basketball and went
to work with all the skill and activity she possessed.

The basketball team, during its infancy in the freshman class had given
splendid promise of future fame. Grace felt proud of her players as she
stopped for a moment to watch their agile movements and spirited work.
Surely, the juniors would have to look out for their laurels this year.
Her blood quickened at thought, of the coming contests which were to take
place during the course of the winter between the two class teams. There
were to be three games that season, and the sophomores had made up their
minds to win all of them. What if the junior team were a famous one, and
had won victory after victory the year before over all other class teams?
The sophomores resolved to be famous, too.

In fact, all of Grace's hopes were centered on the coming season. Napoleon
himself could not have been more eager for victory.

"We must just make up our minds to work, girls," she exhorted her friends.
"I would rather beat those juniors than take a trip to Europe."

Nor was she alone in her desire. The other girls were just as eager to
overthrow the victorious juniors. It was evident, so strong was the
feeling in the class, that something more than a sense of sport had
stirred them to this degree of rivalry.

The former freshman class had many scores against the present juniors. As
sophomores, the winter before, they had never missed an opportunity to
annoy and irritate the freshmen in a hundred disagreeable ways. "The
Black Monks of Asia" still rankled in their memories. Moreover, was not
Julia Crosby, the junior captain? She was the same mischievous sophomore
who had created so much havoc at the Christmas ball. She was always
playing unkind practical jokes on other people. It is true, she was an
intimate and close friend of Miriam Nesbit, but they all were aware that
Miriam was a law unto herself, and none of them had ever attempted to
explain certain doings of hers in connection with Julia Crosby and her
friends during the freshman year.

Grace's mind was busy with these thoughts when the door of the gymnasium
opened noisily. There was a whoop followed by cries and calls and in
rushed the junior players, most of them dressed in gymnasium suits.

Julia Crosby, at their head, had come with so much force, that she now
slid halfway across the room, landing right in the midst of the
sophomores.

"I beg your pardon," said Grace, who had been almost knocked down by the
encounter, "I suppose you did not notice us. But you see, now, that we are
in the midst of practising. The gym. is ours for the afternoon."

Julia Crosby looked at her insolently and laughed.

How irritating that laugh had always been to the rival class of younger
girls. It had a dozen different shades of meaning in it--a nasty,
condescending contemptuous laugh, Grace thought, and such qualities had no
right to be put in a laugh at all, since laughing is meant to show
pleasure and nothing else. But Julia Crosby always laughed at the wrong
time; especially when there was nothing at which to laugh.

"Who said the gym. was yours for the afternoon?" she asked.

"Miss Thompson said so," answered Grace. "I asked her, this morning, and
she gave us permission, as she did to you last Monday, when the boys were
all out at the football grounds."

"Have you a written permission?" asked Julia Crosby, laughing again, so
disagreeably that hot-headed Nora was obliged to turn away to keep from
saying something unworthy of herself.

"No," answered Grace, endeavoring to be calm under these trying
circumstances, but her voice trembling nevertheless with anger. "No, I
have no written permission and you had none last Monday. You know as well
as I do that the boys principal is willing to lend us the gym. as often as
we like during football season, when it is not much in use; and that Miss
Thompson tries to divide the time as evenly as possible among the girls."

"I don't know anything about that, Miss Harlowe," said Julia Crosby. "But
I do know that you and your team will have to give up the gymnasium at
once, because our team is in a hurry to begin practising."

Then a great chattering arose. Every sophomore there except Miriam Nesbit
raised a protesting voice. Grace held up her hand for silence, then
summoning all her dignity she turned to Julia Crosby.

"Miss Crosby," she said, "you have evidently made a mistake. We have had
permission to use the gymnasium this afternoon, which I feel sure you have
not had. It was neither polite nor kind to break in upon us as you did,
and the least you can do is to go away quietly without interrupting us
further."

"Really, Miss Harlowe," said Julia Crosby, and again her tantalizing laugh
rang out, "you are entirely too hasty in your supposition. As it happens,
I have the best right in the world to bring my team to the gym. this
afternoon. So, little folks," looking from one sophomore to another in a
way that was fairly maddening, "run away and play somewhere else."

"Miss Crosby," cried Grace, now thoroughly angry, "I insist on knowing
from whom you received permission. It was not granted by Miss Thompson."

"Oh, I did not stop at Miss Thompson's. I went to a higher authority. Mr.
Cole, the boys' principal, gave me a written permission. Here it is. Do
yon care to read it?" and Julia thrust the offending paper before Grace's
eyes.

This was the last straw. Grace dashed the paper to the floor, and turned
with flashing eyes to her tormentor.

"Miss Crosby," she said, "if Professor Cole had known that Miss Thompson
had given me permission to use the gymnasium, he would never have given
you this paper. You obtained it by a trick, which is your usual method of
gaining your ends. But I want you to understand that the sophomore class
will not tamely submit to such impositions. We evened our score with you
as freshmen, and we shall do it again this year as sophomores.
Furthermore, we mean to win every basketball game of the series, for we
should consider being beaten by the juniors the deepest possible disgrace.
I regret that we have agreed to play against an unworthy foe."

With her head held high, Grace walked from the gymnasium, followed by the
other members of her team, who were too indignant to notice that Miriam
had remained behind.




CHAPTER II

THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR


Once outside the gymnasium, Grace's dignity forsook her, and she felt a
wild desire to kick and scream like a small child. The contemptible
conduct of the junior team filled her with just rage. With a great effort
at self-control she turned to the other girls, who were holding an
indignation meeting in the corridor.

"Girls," she said, "I know just how you feel about this, and if we had
been boys there would have been a hand-to-hand conflict in the gymnasium
to-day."

"I wish we hadn't given in," said Nora, almost sobbing with anger.

"There was really nothing else to do," said Anne. "It is better to retire
with dignity than to indulge in a free-for-all fight."

"Yes," responded Grace, "it is. But when that insufferable Julia Crosby
poked Professor Cole's permit under my nose, I felt like taking her by the
shoulders and shaking her. What those juniors need is a good, sound
thrashing. That being utterly out of the question, the only thing to do is
to whitewash them at basketball."

"Three cheers for the valiant sophomores!" cried Nora, "On to victory!
Down with juniors!"

The cheers were given with a will, and by common consent the crowd of
girls moved on down the corridor that led to the locker room.

The sophomore locker room was the particular rendezvous of that class in
general. Here matters of state were discussed, class gossip retailed, and
class friendships cemented. It was in reality a sort of clubroom, and dear
to the heart of every girl in the class. To the girls in their present
state of mind it seemed the only place to go. They seated themselves on
the benches and Grace took the floor.

"Attention, fellow citizens and basketball artists," she called. "Do you
solemnly promise to exert yourselves to the utmost to repay the juniors
for this afternoon's work?"

"We do," was the answer.

"And will you pledge your sacred honor to whip the juniors, no matter what
happens!"

"We will," responded the girls.

"Anne!" called Grace. "You and Jessica are not players, but you can pledge
your loyalty to the team anyhow. I want you to be in this, too. Hold up
your right hands."

"We will be loyal," said both girls, holding up their right hands,
laughing meanwhile at Grace's serious expression.

"Now," said Grace, "I feel better. As long as we can't get the actual
practice this afternoon let's lay out a course of action at any rate, and
arrange our secret signals."

"Done," cried the girls, and soon they were deep in the mysteries of
secret plays and signs.

Grace explained the game to Anne, who did not incline towards athletics,
and had had little previous opportunity to enjoy them.

Anne, eager to learn for Grace's sake, became interested on her own
account, and soon mastered the main points of the game.

"Here is a list of the secret signals, Anne," said Grace. "Study it
carefully and learn it by heart, then you will understand every move our
team makes during the coming games. I expect you to become an enthusiastic
fan."

Anne thanked her, and put the paper in her purse, little dreaming how much
unhappiness that same paper was to cause her.

The business of the afternoon having been disposed of, the girls donned
street clothing and left the building, schoolgirl fashion, in groups of
twos and threes.

On the way out they encountered several of the victorious juniors, who
managed to make their presence felt.

"Oh," said Nora O'Malley, "those girls ought to be suppressed."

"Never mind," put in Anne. "You know 'the way of the transgressor is
hard.' Perhaps those juniors will get what they deserve yet."

"Not much danger of it. They're too tricky," said Jessica contemptuously.

Anne's prophecy was to be fulfilled, however, in a most unexpected manner.

There had been one unnoticed spectator of the recent quarrel between the
two classes. This was the teacher of physical culture, Miss Kane, who had
returned to the gymnasium for a moment, arriving just in time to witness
the whole scene. She, too, had had trouble at various times with the
junior class, particularly Julia Crosby, who invariably tried her patience
severely. She had been heard to pronounce them the most unruly class she
had ever attempted to instruct. Therefore her sympathies were with the
retreating sophomores, and with set lips and righteous indignation in her
eye, she resolved to lay the matter before Miss Thompson, at the earliest
opportunity.

Miss Thompson listened the next day with considerable surprise to Miss
Kane's account of the affair. No one knew the mischievous tendencies of
the juniors better than did the principal. Ordinary mischief she could
forgive, but this was overstepping all bounds. She had given the
sophomore class permission to use the gymnasium for the afternoon, and no
other class had the least right to take the matter over her head. She knew
that Professor Cole was entirely innocent of the deception practised upon
him, so she resolved to say nothing to him, but deal with the junior team
as she deemed best. One thing was certain, they should receive their just
deserts.

Miss Thompson's face, usually calm and serene, wore an expression of great
sternness as she faced the assembled classes in the study-hall the
following morning. The girls looked apprehensively at each other,
wondering what was about to happen. When their beloved principal looked
like that, there was trouble brewing for some one. Miss Thompson, though a
strict disciplinarian, was seldom angry. She was both patient and
reasonable in her dealings with the pupils under her supervision, and had
their utmost confidence and respect. To incur her displeasure one must
commit a serious offense. Each girl searched her mind for possible
delinquencies There was absolute silence in the great room. Then the
principal spoke:

"I must ask the undivided attention of every girl in this room, as what I
am about to say relates in a measure to all of you.

"There are four classes, representing four divisions of high school work,
assembled here this morning. Each one must be passed through before the
desired goal--graduation--is reached.

"The standard of each class from freshmen to seniors, should be honor. I
have been very proud of my girls because I believed that they would be
able to live up to that standard. However it seems that some of them have
yet to learn the meaning of the word."

Miss Thompson paused. Nora cast a significant look toward Jessica, who sat
directly opposite her, while Julia Crosby fidgeted nervously in her seat,
and felt suddenly ill at ease.

"Good-natured rivalry between classes," continued Miss Thompson, "has
always been encouraged, but ill-natured trickery is to be deplored. A
matter has come to my ears which makes it necessary for me to put down
with an iron hand anything resembling such an evil.

"You are all aware that I have been very willing to grant the use of the
gymnasium to the various teams for basketball practice, and have tried to
divide up the time as evenly as possible. Two days ago I gave the members
of the sophomore team permission to use the gymnasium for practice. No
other team had any right whatever to disturb them, yet I understand that
another team did commit that breach of class etiquette, drove the rightful
possessors from the room and occupied it for the remainder of the
afternoon. The report brought to me says that the young women of the
sophomore team conducted themselves with dignity during a most trying
situation."

Miss Thompson turned suddenly toward the junior section.

"The members of the junior basketball team will please rise," she said
sternly.

There was a subdued murmur throughout the section, then one after another,
with the exception of Julia Crosby, the girls rose.

"Miss Crosby," said the principal in a tone that brooked no delay, "rise
at once! I expect instant obedience from every pupil in this school."

Julia sulkily rose to her feet.

"Miss Crosby," continued Miss Thompson, "are you not the captain of the
junior team?"

"Yes," answered Julia defiantly.

"Did you go to Professor Cole for permission to use the gymnasium last
Thursday?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not come to me?"

Julia hung her head and made no reply.

"I will tell you the reason, Miss Crosby," said the principal. "You
already knew that permission had been granted the sophomore team, did you
not?"

"Yes," said Julia very faintly.

"Very well. You are guilty of two serious misdemeanors. You purposely
misrepresented matters to Professor Cole and deliberately put aside my
authority; not to mention the unwomanly way in which you behaved toward
the sophomore team. Every girl who aided and abetted you in this is
equally guilty. Therefore you will all learn and recite to me an extra
page in history every day for two weeks. The use of the gymnasium will be
prohibited you for the same length of time, and if such a thing ever again
occurs, the culprits will be suspended without delay. You may be seated."

The dazed juniors sank limply into their seats. The tables had been turned
upon them with a vengeance. A page of history a day was bad enough, but
the loss of the gymnasium privilege was worse. The opening game was only
two weeks off, and they needed practice.

Julia Crosby put her head down on her desk and wept tears of rage and
mortification. The rest of the girls looked ready to cry, too.

The first bell for classes sounded and the girls picked up their books. At
the second bell they filed out through the corridor to their various
recitation rooms. As Grace, who had stopped to look for a lost pencil,
hurried toward the geometry classroom, she passed Julia Crosby, who was
moping along, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. Julia cast an angry
glance at Grace, and hissed, "tale-bearer."

Grace, inwardly smarting at the unjust accusation walked on without
answering.

"What did I tell you about the way of the transgressor?" said Anne to
Grace, as they walked home from school that day.

"It certainly is hard enough this time," said Grace. "But," she added, as
she thought of Julia Crosby's recent accusation, "the way of the righteous
isn't always easy."




CHAPTER III