Ruth Fielding At Sunrise Farm; Or, What Became of the Raby Orphans
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CHAPTER I--SWEET BRIARS AND SOUR PICKLES
The single gas jet burning at the end of the corridor was so dim andmade so flickering a light that it added more to the shadows of thepassage than it provided illumination. It was hard to discover whichwere realities and which shadows in the long gallery.
Not a ray of light appeared at any of the transoms over the dormitorydoors; yet that might not mean that there were no lights burning withinthe duo and quartette rooms in the East Dormitory of Briarwood Hall.There were ways of shrouding the telltale transoms and--without doubt--themembers of the advanced junior classes had learned such little tricks ofthe trade of being a schoolgirl.
At one door--and it was the portal of the largest "quartette" room on thefloor--a tall figure kept guard. At first this figure was so silent andmotionless that it seemed like a shadow only. But when another shadowcrept toward it, rustling along the wall on tiptoe, the guard demanded,hissingly:
"S-s-stop! who goes there?"
"Oh-oo! How you startled me, Madge Steele!"
"Sh!" commanded the guard. "Who goes there?"
"Why--why---- It's _I_."
"Give the password instantly. Answer!" commanded the guard again, andwith some vexation. "'I' isn't anybody."
"Oh, indeed? Let me tell you that _this_ 'I' is somebody--according tothe gym. scales. I gained three pounds over the Easter holidays," said"Heavy" Jennie Stone, who had begun her reply with a giggle, but endedit with a sigh.
"Password, Miss!" snapped the guard, grimly.
"Oh! of course!" Then the fat girl whispered shrilly:"'Sincerity--befriend.' That is what 'S. B.' stands for, I s'pose.Sweetbriars! and I have a big bag of sour pickles to offset the cloyingsweetness of the Sweetbriars," chuckled Heavy. "Besides, they say thatvinegar pickles will make you thin----"
"I don't need them for that purpose," admitted the guard at the door,still in a whisper, but accepting the large, "warty" pickle Heavy thrustinto her hand.
"Will make _me_ thin, then," agreed the other. "Let me in, Madge."
The guard, sucking the pickle convulsively the while, opened the doorjust a little way. A blanket had been hung on a frame inside in such amanner that scarcely a gleam of lamplight reached the corridor when thedoor was open.
"Pass the Sweetbriar!" choked Madge, with her mouth full and the tearsrunning down her cheeks. "My goodness, Jennie Stone! these pickles areright out of vitriol!"
"Sour, aren't they?" chuckled Heavy. "I handed you a real one for fair,that time, didn't I, Madge?"
Then she tried to sidle through the narrow opening, got stuck, and wasurged on by Madge pushing her. With a bang--punctuated by a chorus ofmuffled exclamations from the girls already assembled--she tore away theframe and the blanket and got through.
"Shut the door, quick, guard!" exclaimed Helen Cameron.
"Of course, that would be Heavy--entering like a female Samson andtearing down the pillars of the temple," snapped Mercy Curtis, the lamegirl, in her sharp way.
"Please repair the damage, Helen," said Ruth Fielding, who presided atthe far end of the room, sitting cross-legged on one of the beds.
The other girls were arranged on the chairs, or upon the floor beforeher. There was a goodly number of them, and they now included most ofthe members of the secret society known at Briarwood Hall as the"S. B.'s."
Ruth herself was a bright, brown-haired girl who, without possessingmany pretensions to real beauty of feature, still was quite good to lookat and proved particularly charming when one grew to know her well.
She was rather plump, happy of disposition, and with the kindest heartin the world. She made both friends and enemies. No person of realcharacter can escape being disliked, now and then, by those of enviousdisposition.
Ruth Fielding succeeded, usually, in winning to her those who at firstdisliked her. And this, I claim, is a better gift than that of beinguniversally popular from the start.
Ruth had come from her old home in Darrowtown, where her parents died,two years before, to the Red Mill on the Lumano River, where hergreat-uncle, Jabez Potter, the miller, was inclined at first to shelterher only as an object of his grudging charity. In the first volume ofthis series, however, entitled "Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill; Or,Jasper Parloe's Secret," the girl found her way--in a measure, atleast--to the uncle's crabbed heart.
Uncle Jabez was a just man, and he considered it his duty, when HelenCameron, Ruth's dearest friend, was sent to Briarwood Hall to school, tosend Ruth to the same institution. In the second volume, "Ruth Fieldingat Briarwood Hall; Or, Solving the Campus Mystery," was related theadventures, friendships, rivalries, and fun of Ruth's and Helen's firstterm at the old school.
In "Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp; Or, Lost in the Backwoods," was told theadventures of Ruth and her friends at the Camerons' winter camp duringthe Christmas holidays. At the end of the first year of school, they allwent to the seaside, to experience many adventures in "Ruth Fielding atLighthouse Point; Or, Nita, the Girl Castaway," the fourth volume of theseries.
A part of that eventful summer was spent by Ruth and her chums inMontana, and the girl of the Red Mill was enabled to do old Uncle Jabezsuch a favor that he willingly agreed to pay her expenses at BriarwoodHall for another year. This is all told in "Ruth Fielding at SilverRanch; Or, Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys."
The girls returned to Briarwood Hall and in the sixth volume of theseries, entitled "Ruth Fielding on Cliff Island; Or, The Old Hunter'sTreasure Box," Ruth was privileged to help Jerry Sheming and hisunfortunate old uncle in the recovery of their title to Cliff Island inLake Tallahaska, while she and her friends had some thrilling and manyfunny adventures during the mid-winter vacation.
The second half of this school year was now old. The Easter recess waspast and the girls were looking forward to the usual break-up in themiddle of June. The hardest of the work for the year was over. Thosegirls who had been faithful in their studies prior to Easter could nowtake something of a breathing spell, and the S. B.'s were determined toinitiate such candidates as had been on the waiting list for receptioninto the secrets of the most popular society in the school.
The shrouded door of the quartette room occupied by Ruth, Helen, Mercy,and Jane Ann Hicks, from Montana, was opened carefully again and againuntil the outer guard, Madge Steele, had admitted all the candidates andmost of the members of the S. B. order who were expected.
Each girl was presented with at least half a big sour pickle fromHeavy's store; but really, the pickles had nothing to do with theinitiation of the neophytes.
There was a serious and helpful side to the society of the S. B.'s--aswitness the password. Ruth, who was the most active member of theinstitution, realized, however, that the girls were so full of fun thatthey must have some way of expressing themselves out of the ordinary.Perhaps she had asked Mademoiselle Picolet, the French teacher, whoseroom was in this dormitory, and Miss Scrimp, the matron, to overlookthis present infraction of the rules, for it must be admitted that theretiring bell had rung half an hour before the gathering in thisparticular room.
"All here!" breathed Ruth, at last, and Madge was called in. Thecandidates were placed in the middle of the floor. Ann Hicks, the girlfrom Silver Ranch, was one of these. Ann had proved her character andmade herself popular in the school against considerable odds, as relatedin the preceding volume. Now, the honor of being admitted into thesecret society was added to the other marks of the school's approval.
"Candidates," said Ruth, addressing in most solemn tones the group ofgirls before her, "you are about to be initiated into the degree of theMarble Harp. As Infants, when you first entered the school, you were allmade acquainted with the legend of the Marble Harp.
"The figure of _Harmony_, presiding over the fountain in the middle ofthe campus, was modeled by the sculptor from the only daughter of theman who originally owned Briarwood Park before it became a school. Saidsculptor and daughter--in the most approved fashion of the present dayschool of romanticist authors--ran away with each oth
er, were marriedwithout the father's approval, and both are supposed to have diedmiserably in a studio-garret.
"The heart-broken father naturally left his cur-r-r-se upon thefountain, and it is said--mind you, this is hearsay," added Ruth,solemnly, "that whenever anything of moment is about to transpire atBriarwood Hall, or any calamity befall, the strings of the marble harpheld in the hands of _Harmony_, are heard to twang.
"Of course, as has been pointed out before, the fact that the harp is inthe shape of a _lyre_, must be considered, too, if one is to accept thislegend. But, however, and nevertheless," pursued Ruth, "it has beendecided that the candidates here assembled must join in the MackintoshMarch, and, in procession, led by our Outer Guard and followed--not tosay _herded_--by our Rear Guard, must proceed once around the campus,down into the garden, and circle the fountain, chanting, as you havebeen instructed, the marching song.
"All ready! You all have your mackintoshes, as instructed? Into them atonce," commanded Ruth. "Into line--one after the other. Now, OuterGuard!"
The lights were extinguished; the blanket at the door was removed; MadgeSteele led the way and Heavy, as the Rear Guard, was last in the line.Shrouded in the hoods of the mackintoshes, scarcely one of the girlswould have been recognized by any curious teacher or matron.
Ruth hopped down from the bed, and the remaining Sweetbriars rangiggling to the windows. It was a drizzly, dark night. The paths aboutthe campus glistened, and the lamps upon the posts flickered dimly.
Out of the front door filed the procession; when they were far enoughaway from the buildings which surrounded the campus, they began thechant, based upon Tom Moore's famous old song:
"The harp that once through Briarwood Hall The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute o'er the campus fount As though that soul were dead."
Madge Steele, with her strong voice, led the chant. The girls, crowdedat the open windows, began to giggle, for they could hear Heavy, at theend of the procession, sing out a very different verse.
"That rascal ought to be fined for that," murmured The Fox, thesandy-haired girl next to Ruth.
"But, isn't she funny?" gasped Helen, on the other side of the Chief ofthe S. B.'s.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Belle Tingley. "I hope Sarah Fish got there aheadof them. _Won't_ they be surprised when they get a baptism of a glass ofwater each from the fountain, as they go by?"
"They'll think the statue has come to life, sure enough, if it doesn'ttwang the lyre," quoth Helen.
"They'll get an unexpected ducking," giggled Lluella Fairfax.
"It won't hurt them," Ruth said, placidly. "That's why I insisted uponthe mackintoshes."
"It's just as dark down there by the fountain as it can be," spokeHelen, with a little shiver. "D'you remember, Ruthie, how they hazed usthere when we were Infants?"
"Don't I!" agreed her chum.
"If Sarah is careful, she can stand right up there against the statueand never be seen, while she can reach the water to throw it at thegirls easily. There!" cried Belle. "They're turning down the walk to thesteps. I can see them."
They all could see them--dimly. Like shadows the procession descended tothe marble fountain, still chanting softly the refrain of the marchingsong. Suddenly a shriek--a very vigorous and startling sound--rang outacross the campus.
"It's begun!" giggled Belle.
But the sound was repeated--then in a thrilling chorus. Ruth wasstartled. She exclaimed:
"That wasn't either of the candidates. It was Sarah who screamed. There!It is Sarah again. Something has happened!"
Something certainly had happened. There had been an unexpected faultsomewhere in the initiation. The procession burst like a bombshell, andthe girls scattered through the wet campus, utterly terrified, andscreaming as they ran.