The Leader of the Lower School/Chapter 5
CHAPTER V
A Pitched Battle
Gipsy ran upstairs to the classroom with a feeling of intense satisfaction. So far all had gone well. She had succeeded in arousing a spirit of righteous wrath and resistance throughout the Lower School, and a desire to combine for the general welfare. There was a certain exhilaration in the discovery that she was thus able to sway the minds of her companions. She had been popular in other schools, but she had never had a chance such as this. To do Gipsy justice, however, she thought far more of the cause she had taken up than of her own popularity. "Fairness" was her watchword, and wherever her lot had been cast she would have come forward as the champion of any whom she considered unfairly treated. A girl of decided ability, her knockabout life had in many ways made her old beyond her years, and she had that capacity for organization and power of making others work with her that belong to the born leader. Having constituted herself practically head of the movement, she assumed the further conduct of affairs, and at four o'clock held a small committee meeting with Hetty Hancock, Lennie Chapman, and Meg Gordon, her three self-elected coadjutors. As the result of their consultations they presented themselves next day in the Sixth Form classroom, at the identical moment when Miss Giles had just retired, and the members of the Sixth were still engaged in putting away their books.
"Hello, you kids! What are you doing here?" exclaimed Doreen Tristram. "Just you quit, and be quick about it, too!"
"Kids, indeed!" retorted Hetty Hancock. "Not much kids about us, I should think. We're all turned fourteen."
"Are you really? What a magnificent age! I'm glad you've enlightened me, for I should certainly have classed you among the babes!" returned Doreen sarcastically.
"Define a kid!" drawled Esther Hughes, putting on her pince-nez to regard the intruders.
"Everybody knows a kid means a First or Second Form-er, sometimes a Third, but never, never a Fourth Form girl!" burst out Lennie Chapman indignantly. "Why, I'm taller than you!"
The Seniors giggled.
"Merely a difference of opinion, my child," said Ada Dawkins. "Now, according to our standard, every member of the Lower School is a kid, even if she were six feet in height! Our superiority lies in brains, not inches! All Juniors are kids, you are a Junior, therefore you must be a kid. Quod est demonstrandum!"
"And kids aren't allowed to poke their impertinent young noses into our Form room," said Doreen Tristram. "I told you before to quit!"
THE LOWER SCHOOL FIND A LEADER
Despite the threat, none of the four delegates budged an inch.
"You say what we're here for," whispered Meg, nudging Gipsy.
Thus urged, Gipsy opened her campaign:
"We're all four members of the Photographic Guild, and we've come to ask for the developing machine. Some of us in the Fourth want to use it."
"In-deed! I dare say you do!"
"Don't you wish you may get it, that's all!"
"Cheek!"
"Look here—clear out of our classroom!"
"Not until I've asked a few questions," returned Gipsy firmly. "Is the developing machine the property of the Photographic Guild?"
"I suppose it is," grudgingly admitted Ada Dawkins.
"Then why aren't all members allowed to use it?"
"Because we're not going to have it spoilt by kids' meddlesome fingers. That's the reason, and a very good one too!"
"The Juniors pay their subscriptions as well as the Seniors, so they've a right to everything that's the common property of the Guild," persisted Gipsy.
"No, they haven't!" snapped Helen Roper, the head girl. "Nobody but members of the Committee has a right to anything. If you think we're going to let you Juniors come interfering, you're just mistaken, and the sooner you undeceive yourselves the better."
"We only want our rights."
"Rights? You've got no rights! It's privilege enough for you to be allowed to belong to the Guild at all."
"A great privilege to pay our shillings!"
"You're allowed to vote, you know," put in Lena Morris, who possibly had heard a hint of what was brewing in the Lower School. "You can elect any of us as officers that you like, for any of the Guilds."
"And much good that is, when you all play into one another's hands!" burst out Gipsy. "Who gets the best parts in the Dramatic and the Musical, I should like to know? Who votes the prizes in the Sports?"
Helen Roper turned rather red. The difference in the qualities of the prizes offered to Seniors and Juniors in the last athletic contest had been so marked as to call forth comment from the mistresses.
"That's nothing to do with it," she faltered rather lamely. "If you Juniors have any complaints to make, you must make them at the Annual Meeting."
"We're going to," said Hetty Hancock grimly.
"Then in the meantime keep to your own quarters, and don't intrude yourselves where you've no business," commanded Doreen Tristram angrily. "Do you intend to take yourselves off peaceably, or must we eject you?"
"Thank you, we'll go now. We've found out all we want to know, and it hardly reflects to your credit."
So saying, Gipsy and her confederates stalked away with what dignity they could muster.
Once outside the door they tore along the passage and downstairs to the Junior dressing-room, where, collecting all available members of the Lower School, they promptly held an informal indignation meeting.
"Only what everyone expected!" said Dilys Fenton.
"Trust the Sixth not to give in a single inch!"
"They've been asked heaps of times before."
"Then it adds another nail to their coffin," declared Gipsy. "We've tried them fairly, and they've refused to act fairly. We'll give them one more chance at the meeting to-morrow, and if they won't accept our terms—then we'll break loose and be off on our own. Are you all agreed to that?"
"Rather! We'll stand no nonsense this time."
"Kids, indeed! We'll show them what kids can do."
"They'll get on pretty badly without the kids."
"We'll soon let them find that out!"
If the Seniors had received any warning of what was in the wind, they did not take the matter seriously. From time immemorial the Juniors had always complained, and no notice had ever been taken of their complaints. As Juniors themselves the Sixth had grumbled at former head girls and monitresses, but now that they had reached the elect position of the top Form, they had reversed their old opinions. It had always been the tradition of Briarcroft that all authority should be vested in the Seniors, and they saw no reason why it should be changed. A mere outburst of temper on the part of a few Juniors was nothing: it had happened before, and would no doubt happen again; it was as much the province of Juniors to grumble as of Seniors to rule. But they reckoned without Gipsy. That any girl of her age should be capable of welding the shifting dissatisfaction of the Lower School into one solid mass of opposition had never occurred to them. So far no Junior had exercised any particular influence over her fellows; it had been each for herself, even in clamouring appeals for privileges, and the upper girls looked down on the "kids" as a noisy, selfish, troublesome crew, to be kept well under, and not worthy of very much consideration.
The Annual Meeting of the Guilds was to take place on Friday, 15 October, at three o'clock, in the lecture hall. It was held every year on the Friday nearest to the middle of October, and by old-established custom the last hour of the afternoon was allowed to be devoted to it. The mistresses were never present, and the girls, under the superintendence of the monitresses, were permitted to make any arrangements they thought fit, so long as they did not interfere with the ordinary school rules. Though the meetings had begun in good faith, as representative assemblies for all alike, they had degenerated into a merely formal statement of accounts by the Committee, which the general rank and file were expected to pass without comment, and an election of officers chosen almost entirely from the monitresses. There were favourites, of course, among the candidates, but their number was so limited that they did not even take the trouble to canvass for votes, each one feeling nearly sure of being elected to fill one, if not more, of the numerous posts in the many Guilds. The Fifth, having secured certain privileges denied to Juniors, were content if a few of their number were chosen to supply minor vacancies, and rarely interfered with the main direction of affairs.
On the Friday afternoon, therefore, the Upper School strolled carelessly into the lecture hall, and took their seats with the air of having a perfunctory business to perform which they would be glad to get over. The Juniors, on the other hand, were in a ferment of excitement: their opportunity had arrived, and they intended to make the most of it; even the youngsters of the First Form were grim in their determination to resist. The proceedings began in the ordinary time-honoured fashion. Helen Roper read a report for the previous year, and a statement of accounts. The latter, having been audited by Miss Poppleton and found correct, was passed without demur, and the head girl then went on to announce the list of candidates for the various offices. She rattled off the whole in a rather supercilious, casual manner, and she finished with the usual formula: "If any member of the Society has an objection to raise or a suggestion to make, kindly put it before the meeting now, that it may be discussed before the voting begins."
She paused for a moment with a bored air, expecting to hear the old grievances, and to squash them in the old summary fashion. The thing, to her, was a mere farce, to be gone through as speedily as possible. The eyes of all the Juniors were turned upon Gipsy, and Gipsy stood up.
"In the name of the whole of the Lower School I have an objection to raise and a suggestion to make," she began, in her clear, high-pitched voice. "We Juniors consider that we are unfairly treated in many ways in the Guilds, and we demand that a certain number of us should be eligible to serve on the Committee, to look after the rights of our own Forms."
Helen Roper stared at Gipsy as if she could hardly believe the evidence of her own ears, and the Seniors gasped with astonishment. The impudence of the proposal seemed to them beyond all bounds.
"I'm afraid it's not exactly the province of Juniors to sit on the Committee," returned Helen, with a sarcastic smile. "You can hardly expect us to comply with that demand."
"Cheek!"
"Sit upon her!"
"We can't allow this kind of thing!" murmured the indignant Seniors.
"A Guild is supposed to be formed for the common benefit of all concerned," continued Gipsy. "And I contend that every member who pays a subscription has a right to fair representation."
"Hear, hear!" shouted the Juniors.
"Well, you are represented. You can vote for any candidate you like," snapped Helen.
"But it is not fair representation when the candidates are obliged to be chosen from the ranks of the opposite camp. We want candidates of our own, to look after Lower School interests."
"We'll have them too!" squeaked a shrill voice from the ranks of the Third Form.
"You're not going to get it all your own way!" yelled another.
"We're tired of tyranny."
"Order! Order!" commanded Helen; then, turning to her fellow monitresses, she held a brief whispered consultation.
"Stop it at once!" "Put it down firmly!" "Don't stand any nonsense from them!" "Show them who are their betters," was the hasty advice given, and she turned again to the excited Juniors.
"What you ask is impossible," she said imperiously. "The Guilds have gone on very well in the past, and they'll go on very well in the future. We promise that the interests of the Juniors shall be looked after, but the general management must remain as before. You can sit down, Gipsy Latimer."
But Gipsy did not sit down.
"I've made a fair request, and you've refused it," she continued calmly. "All that remains for me to do now is to appeal to the whole school. We Juniors have held a meeting amongst ourselves, and have decided that, if we're denied our just rights, we'll withdraw our subscriptions and found Guilds of our own. Am I voicing the public opinion?"
"Yes, yes!" roared the Juniors.
"Put it to the vote!"
"Have it in black and white!"
"We'll settle it to-day!"
Gipsy's ultimatum was so utterly unexpected that the Seniors looked at one another as if an earthquake had occurred. They had imagined it was all "bluff" on the part of the younger girls, and that they were quite incapable of enforcing their demands. This sudden mutiny was a crisis such as had never risen before.
"Hadn't we better yield a point, and let them have one or two candidates of their own?" suggested Lena Morris hastily.
"Certainly not! It would be the greatest mistake to give way. Leave me to deal with them," said Helen, and turning on the Juniors with flashing eyes, she poured forth her scorn.
"Guilds of your own, indeed! Nice Guilds they'd be! Why, the meetings would be bear gardens. What do you know about how to conduct a Society? When I was a Junior I trusted to the wisdom of the Seniors, instead of listening to every newcomer who talked frothy nonsense. I tell you, it is the monitresses who are your best friends, and who can decide what's good for you. Are you going to change the whole of our Briarcroft organizations at the bidding of a girl who has only been in the school ten days?"
The latter part of Helen's argument appealed to a few who were jealous of Gipsy's influence, but the greater number broke out in indignant protest.
"Friends indeed!"
"Pretty friends!"
"Tyrants, more likely!"
"We'll see about bear gardens!"
"We won't be sat upon by a clique!"
These and other remarks were shouted in reply. Some of the excited girls scrambled up and stood on their seats; each began to talk to her neighbour, and the noise swelled till it grew into a general roar of: "A referendum! Give us a referendum!"
Helen rang the bell for silence, and, when some sort of order was restored, once more faced the turbulent Juniors.
"Do I clearly understand what it is you want to put to the vote?" she asked, frowning.
"Yes! Yes! Tell her again, Gipsy!"
"I may be a new girl," said Gipsy, "but the others have chosen me to speak for them, so I'm their lawful delegate. What we want to vote about is a question of separation. Are we Juniors to keep on in the old Guilds, or start Guilds of our own?"
"It will have to be a referendum of both Seniors and Juniors," replied Helen sharply.
"That's only fair. This is a public Annual Meeting, and we want to do everything in order."
Helen conferred again with her own Form. By all rules of general meetings, it was impossible to refuse a referendum if called for. They were obliged, therefore, to submit with the best grace they could, and to deal out the voting papers.
"Those in favour of union with the present Guilds kindly put a nought, and those in favour of separation a cross," commanded Helen. "Any paper with anything more on it will be disqualified. Girls! I make a last appeal to you to remember our old traditions, and to resist these innovations. Be loyal to your monitresses!"
"Old traditions are sometimes bad traditions," exclaimed Hetty Hancock, metaphorically flinging back the gauntlet. "We're ready to obey our monitresses on questions of school rules, but we're not Saxon serfs. Fair play is a jewel! We Juniors haven't had it yet, and we mean to get it. Girls! Be loyal to the Lower School!"
The Juniors snatched their voting papers with hot eagerness, and for a moment or two there was a silence in the room, while the necessary noughts or crosses were being registered. The Seniors were feeling decidedly blue, but for appearances' sake they kept up a show of confidence.
"I think one of us is entitled to help to check the counting," said Hetty, as the papers were collected and handed to the monitresses.
"Oh, certainly! Please come and satisfy yourselves," returned Helen bitterly.
So the votes were counted by Lena Morris and Ada Dawkins on behalf of the Seniors, and by Hetty and Gipsy on behalf of the Juniors. The latter had not doubted the result, but to the Upper School the figures were startling:
Separation 65
Union 28
—
Majority for Separation 37
Only six of the younger girls, therefore, had voted for the old regime, and the victory of the Lower School was complete. A mad scene of triumph ensued. The Juniors clapped and cheered, and waved their handkerchiefs in the exuberance of their enthusiasm; and as the discomfited Seniors beat a hasty retreat, the meeting broke up amid the roar of exultant hurrahs, and an impromptu chorus started by Gipsy and taken up by a dozen jubilant voices:
"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Juniors never, never, never, will be slaves!"