 Chapter 24 of Grace Harlow's Sophomore Year at High School. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Christine Blashford. Grace Harlow's Sophomore Year at High School by Jesse Graham Flower. Chapter 24 Commencement. Examinations had ceased to be bug bears and kill joys to the young idea of Oakdale. The last paper had been looked over, and the anxious hearts of the majority of the high school pupils had been set at rest. In most cases there was general rejoicing over the results of the final test. Marks were compared and plans for the next year's course of study discussed. The juniors were about to come into their own. When the present seniors had been handed their diplomas, and Miss Thompson and Mr. Cole had wished them God's speed, the present juniors would start on the home stretch that ended in Commencement, and a vague awakening to the real duties of life. The senior class stood for the time being in the limelight of public attention. It was the observed of all observers. Teas were given in honor of its various members, and bevvies of young girls in dainty summer apparel brightened the streets of Oakdale during the long sunny afternoons. It was truly an eventful week. Grace Harlow gave a tea in honor of Ethel Post, which was a marked social success. The two girls had become thoroughly well acquainted over their gulf, and had received great benefit from each other's society. Miss Post's calm philosophical view of life had a quieting effect on impulsive grace, while Grace's energy and wholehearted way of diving into things proved a stimulus to the older girl. It was Tuesday afternoon and class day. High school girls in Gala attire were seen hurrying up the broad walk leading to the main door of the school building. It was the day of all days to those about to graduate. Of course receiving one's diploma was the most important feature, but class day lay nearest the heart. The exercises were to be held in the gymnasium. The junior and senior classes had brought in half the woods to beautify the big room, and Oakdale Gardens had been ruthlessly forced to give up their wealth of bird and bloom in honor of the occasion. It was customary for the seniors to invite the junior class who always sat in a body at one side of the gymnasium, while the seniors sat on the opposite side. The rest of the space was given up to the families of the seniors and their friends. Lucky indeed were those who could obtain an invitation to this most characteristic of class functions. The four girl chums had been among the fortunate recipients of invitations—a very pretty picture they made as they followed the usher, one of the junior class to their seats. Grace wore a gown of pale blue organ-D that was a marvel of sheer daintiness. Jessica, a fetching little affair of white silk muslin, sprinkled with tiny pink rose buds, while Anne and Nora were resplendent in white lingerie gowns. Anne's frock was particularly beautiful, and the girls had exclaimed with delight over it when they first caught sight of her. It was a present from Mrs. Gray, Anne told them. She had fully expected to wear her little white muslin, but the latter had grown rather shabby, and she felt ashamed of it. Then a boy appeared with a big box addressed to her, wrapped in fold after fold of tissue paper lay the exquisite new gown. Pin to one sleeve was a note from Mrs. Gray, asking her to accept the gift in memory of the other Anne, Mrs. Gray's young daughter, who had passed away years ago. There were tears in Anne's eyes as she told them about it, the girls agreeing with her that there was no one in the world quite so utterly dear as Mrs. Gray. I'm glad we're early, whispered Nora. We can watch the classes come in. See, that place is for the juniors. It is roped off with their colours, and the other side belongs to the seniors. How fine the gym looks, remarked Anne. They certainly must have worked hard to fix it up so beautifully. Julia Crosby is largely responsible for it, aunt said Grace. She has the most original ideas about decorations and things. You know the juniors always decorate for the seniors. It's a sacred duty. Did you know that Julia was elected president of her class? asked Jessica. Oh, yes, said Grace. She told me about it the other day. Oh, girls, here they come. Doesn't Ethel Post look sweet. There's Julia at the head of her class. It is certainly great to be a graduate, sighed Nora. Speaking of graduation, said Grace, did you know that David has put off his graduation for another year? He wished to finish school with Hippie and Reddy. They have planned to enter the same college, so our little crowd will be together for one more year. How nice of him, cried the girls. Yes, isn't it? I'll be awfully sorry when my turn comes, responded Grace. I'm sure I shall never care for college as I do for this dear old school. You can't tell until you've tried it, said Nora wisely. The two classes had now seated themselves, and an expectant hush fell upon those assembled. The first number on the program was a song by the senior Glee Club. This was followed by the salutatory address, given by a tall dignified senior. The class poem came next and was received with enthusiasm. The other numbers followed in rapid succession, each being applauded to the echo. The class grinds were hailed with keen relish. Each girl solemnly rose to take her medicine in the form of mild ridicule over some past harmless folly. The class prophecy provoked ripples of merriment from the audience. Grace chuckled with Glee at the idea of exclusive Ethel Post becoming the proprietor of a moving picture show at Coney Island. The future's prophesied for the other members of the class were equally remarkable for their impossibility. At last nothing remained, but the senior charge and the junior reply. The president of the senior class rose, and facing the juniors, poured forth her final words of advice and counsel. She likened them to a baby in swaddling clothes, and cautioned them to be careful about standing on their feet too early. It was the usual patronizing speech so necessary to class day. Julia Crosby smiled a little as the senior exhorted her hearers to never forget the dignity of their station. She was thinking of the day she crashed into that young woman in the corridor. The senior president had manifested the dignity of her station then. Julia straightened her face and stepped forward to make her reply. She thanked the president for her solicitude and tender counsel. She humbly acknowledged that the juniors were helpless infants, entirely innocent of the wicked world. They realized that they needed proper nourishment and exercise. There was one consolation, however. They were daily growing larger and wiser, and their lungs were strong. If all went well, they hoped to be healthy, well-grown seniors, capable of giving sage advice to those who would follow them. Grace's face was full of eager appreciation as she listened to Julia's clever speech—how greatly she had changed and what a power she would be in her class during the senior year. Grace felt that her sophomore year, though dark in the beginning, was about to end in a blaze of glory. Julia sat down amid demonstrations of approval. Then the first notes of old langzine sounded on the piano, and the entire audience, led by the senior glee club, rose to their feet to join in that sweetest of old songs, whose plaintive melody causes heartstrings to tighten and eyes to fill. The four chums silently joined hands as they sang, and mentally resolved that with them, old acquaintance should never be forgot. There was a second's pause after the song was done. Then clear on the air rose the senior class yell, that broke the spell. Those who had felt lumps rising in their throats at the music laughed. A buzz of conversation began, and soon the graduates were surrounded by their families and friends. The gymnasium gradually cleared. The seniors hurried off to their banquet on the lawn, and one more class day glided off to find its place with those of the past. Wasn't it perfectly lovely, sighed Jessica, as they made their way out. I think Commencement Week has even more thrills in it than Christmas, Nora replied. Wait till we have our class day. You shall write the class poem, Anne, and Jessica the song. I speak for the class prophecy, said Grace. That leaves nothing for me but the grinds, but that job would be greatly to my taste, said Nora. What about the rest of the class, inquired Anne, smiling at this monopoly of class honours? Are we to carry off all the glory? Without a doubt, Jessica answered, after us there are no more. Be sure to come to my house for supper Thursday evening, said Grace. We are to go to Commencement together, you know. The boys are coming too. The chums parted with many expressions of satisfaction over the pleasant afternoon's entertainment. Thursday evening found them impatiently awaiting the boys. I suppose they all stopped to fuss and prank, said Nora, as she peered through the vines that screened the porch. Men are truly vainer than girls. There they come round the corner now. I really believe Hippie is growing fatter. He looks awfully nice tonight, though, she hastily added. Hippie had a friend in Nora. Did you know that Tom Gray is in town? asked David, as he took his place beside Anne and Grace. The latter carried an immense bouquet of red roses to give to Ethel Post. Oh, how nice, exclaimed Grace. I suppose he'll be there to-night with dear Mrs. Gray. Yes, they are going, said David. I don't believe Mrs. Gray has missed a Commencement for the last twenty years. I wonder who'll get the freshman prize this year, amused Grace. I hope it goes to some girl who really needs it. I know one thing—there will be no claimant for the hundred dollar prize this year—Anne broke the record. Indeed, she did, said David, looking fondly at Anne. To be in company with Oakdale's star prize winner is a great honor. Oh, don't, said Anne, who hated compliments. Very well, if you spurn the truth, replied David. By the way, I have an invitation to deliver. Miriam wants all of you to come up to our house the minute the exercises are over to-night. Never mind if it is late. Commencement comes, but once a year. Delighted, chorus the chums. Harsh, said Hippie, make no uproar, we are about to enter the sacred precinct of Assembly Hall. I feel that on account of my years of experience I must make myself responsible for the behaviour of you children. Smother that giggle Nora O'Malley, he commanded, looking at Nora with an expression of severity that set oddly on his fat, good-natured face. This made the whole party laugh, and Hippie declared, disgustedly, that he considered them quite ignorant of the first principles of good behaviour. They were seated in the hall at last, and for the next two hours listened with serious attention to the essays and addresses of the graduates. Grace had sent Ethel post her roses as soon as she entered the hall, and had the pleasure of seeing them in her friend's hands. The diplomas were presented and the freshman prize given out. It was won by a shy-looking little girl with big, pleading brown eyes. Grace watched her closely as she walked up to receive it, and resolved to find out more about her. She looked as though she needed friends was her mental comment. Anne, too, felt drawn toward the slender little girl. She recalled her freshman commencement and her total collapse after the race had been won. I hope that little girl has friends as good and true as mine, she whispered to Grace. Don't you think she looks lonely, Grace asked? She surely does, returned Anne. Let's find out all about her. Done, Grace replied. As soon as the exercises were over, the young people hurried over to where Tom Gray and his aunts stood talking with friends. Well, well, sighed the old lady joyously. Here are all my own children. I am so glad to see you. I understand that I am too late with my invitation for an after-gathering. Miriam has forestalled me. She added, placing her arm around Miriam, whose face glowed with pleasure at the caress. She has invited me, too, so I am not to complain. As many as there are room can ride in my carriage, the rest will have to go in Tom's. Tom's was the cry. When did he acquire a carriage? Come and see it, was Tom's reply. They all trooped out, hippie-leading the van. I wish to be the first to look upon the miracle, he cried. It's a peach, he shouted, as the others came up, and he was right. Oh, Tom, isn't it great, Gray's exclaimed. Directly in front of Mrs. Gray's carriage stood a handsome, pack-hard car. Aunt Rose gave it to me to-day, he explained, his face glowing. It has been waiting a week for me. Come on, everybody, and we'll get up steam and fly to Nesbitt's. Of course, everyone wanted to ride in the new car. David and Anne decided, however, to go with Mrs. Gray, and with a honk honk, the automobile was off. The Nesbitt home was ablaze with light. Mrs. Nesbitt stood in the wide hall, waiting to receive Miriam's guests. The first thing to do is to find food, declared David, leading the way to the dining-room. The whole party exclaimed with admiration at the tastefully decorated table, a huge favour pie in the shape of a deep red rose ornamented the centre, the ribbons reaching to each one's place. There were pretty hand-painted place-cards, too, tied with red and gold, the sophomore colours. Mrs. Gray occupied the place of honour at the head of the table. She was fairly overflowing with happiness and good cheer, as she beamed on first one and then another of her children. The young people did ample justice to the delicious repast served them. The favour pie created much amusement, as the favours were chosen to suit the particular personality of each guest. After everyone had finished eating, a season of toasts followed. Here's to dear Mrs. Gray, said David, raising his glass of fruit-punch. May she live to be one hundred years old and grow younger every day. Drink her down. Mrs. Gray proposed a toast to Mrs. Nesbitt, which was drunk with enthusiasm. Presently everyone had been toasted, then Miriam raised and begged permission to speak. It was unanimously granted. I suppose you all think I invited you here tonight for the express purpose of having a good time, she said. So I did. But now that you are here, I want to talk to you about a plan that I hope you will like. It rests with you whether or not it materializes. You know that we have a cottage at Lake George, although we do not always spend our summers there. But I want to go there this year, and you can make it possible for me to do so. We'll carry your luggage and put you on the train, if that will help you out any, volunteered hippie. Miriam laughed. That isn't enough, she said. I want every one of you to go, too. Now don't say a word until I'm through. Mother has given her consent to a house party, and will chaperone us. Don't one of you refuse, for I shall pay no attention to you. You simply must come. We are to start next Tuesday, and stay as long as we like, so you'll have to make your preparations in a hurry. We'll meet at the station next Tuesday morning at 9.30. That's all. Then water babble arose. Grace and Nora were in high glee over the proposed trip. They were sure of going. Anne was rather dubious at first, but Grace overruled her objections, and made fun of Jessica for saying she had promised to visit her aunt. Go and visit your aunt afterwards, Jessica. Remember, she is a secondary matter when compared to us, she said, laughingly. I shall take my car, said Tom. That will help things along. Mother has promised me one, remarked David, so we'll have plenty of means of conveyance. How sorry I am that you can't go to Aunt Rose, exclaimed Tom regretfully. Nonsense, replied his aunt. You don't want an old woman at your heels all the time. Besides, I must visit my brother in California this summer. I haven't seen him for several years. Let's drink to the success of the House Party, cried Reddy, and pledge ourselves to be on time next Tuesday morning. Drink her down. When next we meet our Oakdale boys and girls, they will have returned to their books after a long happy summer. In Grace Harlow's junior year at high school, or fast friends in the sororities, the girl chums will appear as members of a high school sorority. Here the reader will make the acquaintance of Eleanor Savill, a clever but exceedingly willful girl, whose advent in Oakdale High School brings about a series of happenings that make the story one of absorbing interest. The doings of a rival sorority, organized by Eleanor, the contest for dramatic honours between Eleanor and Ann Pearson, and the mischievous plot against the latter, originated by the former, and frustrated by Grace Harlow, are among the features that will hold the attention and cement the reader's friendship for the girl chums. End of Chapter Twenty-Four And End of Grace Harlow's Sophomore Year at High School by Jesse Graham Flower