apparatus during the past year.
For two whole terms Miss Barbour had been teaching and training her
classes with a view to this exhibition, and woe betide any unlucky wight
whose nerves, memory or muscles should fail her at the critical moment!
A further impetus was given to individual effort by the offer, on the
part of one of the Governors, of four medals for competition, to be
awarded respectively to the best candidates in four classes, Seniors
over 16, Intermediates from 13 to 16, Juniors from 10 to 13, and
Preparatories under 10. It was felt throughout the school that the offer
was munificent. The Governors had been stingy over the matter of the
hockey field, and had been reviled accordingly, but Councillor Jackson
was retrieving the character of the Board by this action, and the girls
reversed their opinion in his favor. They hoped that other Governors,
warmed by his example, might open their hearts in silver medals or book
prizes for future occasions.
"He's a dear old trump to think of it!" said Winona.
"You drew a picture of him floundering in the mud at hockey!" twinkled
Garnet.
"Well, I forgive him now, and I'll draw another of him standing on the
platform, all beaming with benevolence, and distributing medals
broadcast. Look here, Bessie Kirk, you needn't be congratulating
yourself beforehand with such a patently self-satisfied smirk, because
_I'm_ going to win the Senior Medal."
"No, you're not, my child! Take it patiently, and compose your mind. The
medal's coming this way!"
"How about me?" put in Marjorie Kemp.
"You'll do well, but you're not a champion! You're too fat, Jumbo, and
that's the fact. You're all right when it's a question of brute
strength, but when agility matters, those superfluous pounds of flesh of
yours are an impediment. I'd back Joyce sooner than you; she's as light
as a feather!"
Hearing herself commended, Joyce fluttered up to the group, smiling.
"I did four feet six, yesterday," she announced, "and I'd have cleared
four feet seven, I believe, only I had to stop. It's always my luck!"
"Why had you to stop?"
"My back ached!"
Instant apprehension overspread the faces of her friends.
"Joyce Newton!" exclaimed Winona, "you're never going to get small-pox
again, and stop the athletic display?"
"You don't feel sick, or head-achy, or sore-throaty, do you?" implored
Bessie. "For goodness sake stand away, if you're infectious! I don't
want to be another contact
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