Chapter II: Poor Fresh

JANET and her roommate viewed their room with much satisfaction after they had completed the arranging of their furnishings. Especially did Janet congratulate herself upon the lordly array of pillows which were disposed not only upon the divan but upon the floor. She felt in this direction that she had exceeded Edna's expectations, and the glow of conscious pride warmed her so that she could graciously credit Edna with having provided generously in the matter of ornament.

She stood with her head to one side viewing the "drapes" upon Edna's Morris chair, when some one banged on the door and, scarcely waiting for the "Come in" which followed the knock, entered with half a dozen girls attending.

"Oh, Janet!" cried the leader of the troop. "We've come to warn you to look out to-night; the sophs are after us. They are coming to-night for sure. Charity Shepherd overheard two of them saying something which gave her an inkling, so every one of us must lock her door early, and be on her guard. They caught Grace Breitner, and she won't tell what they did to her. She only laughs when we ask her."

"Oh, dear," exclaimed Edna Waite, "can't we keep them away, Cordelia?"

Cordelia Lodge, a bright-looking girl, with a way of squinting up her eyes when she laughed, smiled as she turned to the girl behind her. "Do you hear that, Lee? Can we keep them away?"

"We can try," replied Lee coming forward, "but the sophs are as inflexible as fate once they determine on a thing, and it's mighty hard to evade them."

"Well," remarked Janet, "we can do one thing; we can make it hot for them. I know what I shall do."

"What, Janet? Do tell!" said a chorus of voices.

But Janet shook her head. "No, I think it is up to each one of us to work out her own escape. We may look our doors, but if they are determined to get in, they may find a way of doing it, so the best thing for us to do is to prepare for their reception."

The girls looked at each other. "We'll prepare," they exclaimed.

"Come on, girls," cried Cordelia, "each to her lair, and a murrain on whoever backs out in her preparations."

"What do you intend to do?" asked Edna as the troop left, and Janet grabbed her hat pinning it upon her dark locks.

"I'm going to the drug store."

"What for?"

"I'll tell you when I come back." She was half-way down the corridor before Edna could ask another question.

And when she returned, she bore a roll of something and several small packages.

"What have you there?" asked Edna, all curiosity.

"This," said Janet unrolling her long package, "is fly-paper—tanglefoot, I believe it is called—warranted to catch the unwary. It is usually placed in infested places for the purpose of trapping intruders. A piece of this upon the window-sill over there, another on the floor in front of the door, wouldn't come amiss."

"But we are not troubled with flies, Janet. They surely are not a pest at this time of year. Gracious! I didn't know you were so particular."

Janet gave her a pitying glance. "Edna Waite, where is your perspicuity? I am not preparing for the common house-fly, the musca domestica, but for that variety known as the soph."

"Oh!" Edna's laugh showed that she understood. "What a scheme!"

"Before we go to bed," said Janet, "we shall complete our arrangements. In this small tin box is mustard. Did it ever occur to you that an adhesive mustard plaster would be a good thing? When one must have a mustard plaster, it might be well to manufacture a kind that cannot come off. I may get out a patent for this. Hand me the mucilage, please, and the scissors. This muslin is for the plasters, so is the mucilage, so is the mustard. You cut them this size; you spread them first with mucilage, and then you sprinkle them with mustard. I had thought of red pepper, but my humanity forbade my using that. There, these placed at judicious distances may be of use in case of an onslaught. Beware, Teddy, that you don't get up in the night and stumble into the pit we have digged for others."

"Dear me, I certainly will be careful. Oh, Janet, I almost hope they will come; it would be such fun to see them caught."

"I almost wish it myself," she replied, and when they had retired for the night, it was with much satisfaction that Janet thought of her traps.

About midnight, she awoke with a start. There was a noise outside her door. "What's that?" she exclaimed in a startled whisper. Then she realized what it probably was, and she called softly, "Teddy, Teddy."

"What?" came sleepily from the next room.

"Get up. No, don't. They are coming. Keep perfectly still and don't let yourself be seen unless I call you."

Edna, awaking to a realizing sense of the situation, did as she was bid, and kept as still as possible. Janet lay quietly and listened. Presently there was a scrambling at the transom, then by means of the electric light outside Janet saw a head and shoulders appear. She chuckled to herself as some one dropped lightly to the floor. There was a little suppressed squeal and a sound of some one groping about.

"What's the matter?" came a voice from the outside.

"Nothing," was the answer. "I'll open the door directly, if I can find the key."

Janet hid her laughing face in her pillow. It was a nice precaution not to leave the key in the door, for there would be further difficulties before it would be possible to find it. She made no sound, but waited further developments.

There was a further sound of stealthy footsteps in the room, and after a time an exclamation of "Gracious!"

Still Janet gave no sign of being awake. At last, however, the intruder reached the gas, and struck a light. Janet peeped at her from between nearly closed lids, saw her tear a sticky mass from one hand, and others from each foot, then, picking her way across the room, avoiding the bits of fly-paper laid in her way, she reached the bed, gave a spring and alighted fairly upon Janet.

"Here," she cried, "wake up. You must be one of the Seven Sleepers. Where is the key to the door?"

Janet opened her eyes drowsily, stretched her arms, and said, "Get off my chest, nightmare. I ate no mince-pie last night."

The girl snickered, but immediately assumed a severe manner. "Get up and get me that key," she said.

"What for?" asked Janet.

"So I can get out."

"I don't care whether you get out or not," returned Janet, "so long as you get off—my chest."

The girl perched there sat looking about the room. She was a tiny thing, with fluffy light hair about her elfish little face. "What's the sticky stuff all about here for?" she asked.

"Oh," replied Janet, "it's to catch flies—and things."

The girl drew down her mouth. "I'll not have you alluding to me as a thing, you Miss Fresh. Get up and get me that key, or I'll find a way to make you."

"Find it then!" returned Janet.

There came a tap at the door. "What's the matter, Fay?" asked a voice. "Why don't you come?"

"I'm coming," responded Fay. "Don't get impatient."

She looked at Janet, who grinned in response.

"I'm not going to be outdone by any poor fresh," said Fay. "You're entirely too smart. I am going to have that key."

She suddenly sprang from the bed, and before Janet could be aware of her intention, she had darted to the window-sill and returning, with one of Janet's own plasters, slapped it viciously upon her forehead. "There," she exclaimed, "you tell me where that key is."

In vain, Janet tried to free her hands to get at the plaster; she was at a disadvantage, for she was lying down with some one holding her and pressing her arms tightly to her sides. She bore herself bravely for a few minutes; then the mustard began to burn, and she called for help.

"Teddy, Teddy," she cried, "come take this thing off. A nightmare has possession of me."

Teddy came running to the rescue, but once, on the way, imprudently stepped on a bit of the fly-paper. She tore it off, and reached the bed where Janet, now really suffering from the mustard, was trying to struggle from her captor's grasp.

"Take it off, Teddy, quick," she cried; "the mustard is burning horribly."

Edna managed to remove the plaster which had stuck exceedingly fast and was not easy to get off, and then she threw herself upon the uninvited visitor who now met her Waterloo, for Janet, thus reinforced, was able to free herself and together she and Edna bound the hapless Fay and laid her upon her back on the bed.

Those outside were becoming more anxious. "Aren't you ever coming, Fay?" they asked.

"No, she isn't," replied Janet triumphantly. "We are going to keep her for company. She is so cunning, we are perfectly fascinated with her. She reminds us of our baby dolls. Go away like good girls, for you can't get in and she can't get out."

"Oh, won't I pay you back for this," said Fay, indignant that a sophomore should be thus worsted by her natural prey.

"Will you?" asked Janet pleasantly. "Now why should you want to pay us back for not allowing our room to be broken into? What do they call such a performance? I know it is some sort of crime. We will not prosecute you though, and you can tell those girls outside that you'll not go home till morning, till daylight doth appear. There is no use for them to wait."

Fay reluctantly notified her friends of her failure to carry out their plan, and they went off. It had been rather a trying experience for Fay, for in nearly every room, she had found some sort of trap set. Being the smallest and lightest in her class, as well as the cleverest in gymnastic feats, she had been chosen to defy locked doors and to climb over the transoms; then, before the occupants could be aware of her presence, to unlock the door from the inside and admit the waiting sophomores.

In one room, she had dropped directly into a tub of cold water when she let herself down from above; in another a pitfall in the shape of a long cord stretched from side to side of the room caused her to trip and fall; in a third there was such a barricade of chairs, tables and other furniture, that there was no getting behind the defense, and she was obliged to retreat. But only in the rooms occupied by Janet and Edna did she find the key gone from the door, and so she was lost. On the outside, she had been boosted up by her friends, and in this last instance, if she had been wise, she would have retreated by means of such help as a chair would furnish, and could have made her escape; but she was a little too venturesome, and was detained, in spite of all her prayers, till morning.

When Janet appeared the next day with a crimson blotch across her forehead, the only answer she made to the solicitous questions put to her was "Nightmare," but there was a general understanding that the freshmen had worsted the sophomores in this first attack.

The sophomores did not forget, however. They bided their time, and, like Brer Rabbit, they "lay low" till suspicions should be allayed, and then one triumphant night, they descended upon their sleeping victims. Fay having cleverly stolen the key of the room Janet occupied, was able to rush in with no fear of being unable to get out again. Behind her came a body of victorious sophs guarding half a dozen freshmen whom they had dragged from their beds.

"Shut the door, Fay," said the leader, Juliet Fuller; "we'll settle the business where you tell me the most rebellious of the class hold forth. You'll have to get up, Miss Ferguson; we can't allow you to entertain us in bed. You haven't a mustard plaster handy, have you, and what became of the fly-paper?"

"Oh, I suppose Fay Wingate carried it all off on her feet," returned Janet with an air of innocence.

Juliet frowned. "No base insinuations, if you please. What's in that jar? Candied ginger, as I live. Much better than mustard. Bring it here, Fay."

And Janet had the mortification of seeing her treasured ginger gobbled up before her eyes.

"Having refreshed ourselves through your generosity," remarked Juliet, "we will provide a little entertainment for the assembled company. First on the programme is Miss Charity Shepherd, who will give us an example of Yankee dialect. Miss Shepherd is remarkably clever in having preserved the exact intonation, and pronunciation, as you will presently hear. Step out, Miss Shepherd, and don't be afraid."

As Charity's accent was unmistakable, every one tittered.

Juliet selected a slip from several she held in her hand. "You are requested to give this selection, Miss Shepherd," she said, handing the paper to Charity. "Stand up if you please, and speak out clearly."

Deciding that discretion would be the better part of valor, Charity amiably complied, and read as follows, exactly as Juliet had foreseen that she would: "Take your caad and go to the caa where you will find the staatah whom you will know by the staa he wears. He will tell you the way to Haavahd. If there is doo on the grass, do not go that way, but consider it your dooty to take the other path to the institootion."

"Lovely," exclaimed Juliet as a titter ran around the room. "You may sit down, Miss Shepherd, and we will next hear from the lady from Philadelphia." She looked toward another of the girls who bit her lip, but did not respond. "You are from Philadelphia, aren't you, Miss Cox?" asked Juliet suavely.

"Yes," was the answer.

"And you live somewhere near North Broad Street, don't you?"

Adelaide Cox nodded.

"And your name is—?"

"Auddie Cox."

"To be sure. It would have to be Auddie, young ladies. Well, Miss Cox, you will not refuse to help us out in our little entertainment. With such men as John Wanamaker and George W. Childs as examples of public benefactors, you cannot refuse to help the cause of humanity. Will you not read these few lines as they do it in Philadelphia?" She handed her a paper, typewritten, which Addie took, blushed, but made no attempt to read.

"You must, you know," said Juliet mildly.

"You'd better," whispered Janet, who sat near the victim.

And Addie read: "One doy in Moy, I went daown taown, and while I was trying to open a hayumper, I cut me hayund with a hayutchet. I heard some one soy it wasn't the woy to do it."

"Delicious!" exclaimed Juliet. "I couldn't do that if I tried all night. Now, Cordelia, dear, we are going to let you off with a mere snatch, but we must make this as complete as we can that the effect may be more striking. This, Cordelia, dear."

Cordelia, laughing and squinting up her eyes, took the paper with a good grace. "I am perfectly willing," she said, and glibly rattled off:

"Puryulls may do for some, but give me diamonds, thutty or more puryfect ones, for I am the guryull from New York."

"It is the most interesting study in dialect, that we have ever had at this college," remarked Juliet. "We shall all be immensely benefited by it, for I want you to understand, young ladies, that these are living examples of how they do it in the various localities represented, and the examples have been imported at a great expenditure of time and strength. I think you will all agree that in the last one, we have reached the climax. Miss Lee Penrose, of Virginia, will now give us an example of true Virginny dialect."

Lee had no bashfulness, and was too proud of her native State to consider anything relating to it a matter of criticism, so she gaily took her paper, and told how she "opened the do' into the co't, and beyond it, saw a gyarden where were a lot of pretty gyurls who said we are sho' 'nough F. F. V.'s."

There was a lot more to it which Lee did not hesitate to give.

"Perfectly delightful," Juliet cried. "Now, Miss Penrose, that was so dead easy that you will have to supplement it by something else in character. What shall it be?"

"A break down? A double shuffle? I can do those," said Lee, quite ready for anything.

"Yes, yes," came from every part of the room.

"The amiable Miss Penrose in her unparalleled character dances," announced Juliet.

And Lee stepped out, fairly delighting them all by her agility and the intricacy of her steps, winding up with a cake walk which convulsed them all.

"You are a dear," cried Juliet. "You are worth the whole bunch. I just love you for being so ready to please us."

And Lee, having scored a hit, sat down breathless from her exertions.

"Janet Ferguson, you haven't done any stunt," said Juliet suddenly. "Come out here, you and your roommate. What is her name? Oh, thank you, Teddy Waite. We are not going to let you off too easy in spite of your crimsoned brow. Oh, yes, we did eat all their ginger, didn't we? Well, if they are good, and mind what we say, we won't be very hard on them. Let me see—What? Oh, thank you, Fay. Miss Ferguson, you will have to go out into the hall, and climb over your own door by way of the transom. This is what is called a reflective act, for it is to give you an appreciation of the difficulties we have had to endure, and will also give you some thing to reflect upon."

Now Janet was not very athletic. She had but just begun her work in the gymnasium, yet she could climb, thanks to her country training, and though she was awkward enough in crawling through the transom, she managed to scramble down without mishap. Edna was then requested to go through the same feat, and the sophomores then took their leave, expressing themselves as having been greatly entertained.

When they had gone, Janet threw herself into a chair and sighed with relief.

"It wasn't so bad as I was afraid it might be," she said. "Thank heaven, that's over; and I don't suppose there'll be any more of it." And there was not.