Molly Brown's Freshman Days
Nell Speed
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan,eagkw and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net
"I think my trunk is on this train," shesaid.--_Page 7._]
MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS
By NELL SPEED
_WITH FOUR HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1912, BY HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. WELLINGTON 5
II. THEIR NEIGHBOR 19
III. THE PROFESSOR 32
IV. A BUSY DAY 46
V. THE KENTUCKY SPREAD 62
VI. KNOTTY PROBLEMS 75
VII. AN INCIDENT OF THE COFFEE CUPS 86
VIII. CONCERNING CLUBS,--AND A TEA PARTY 99
IX. RUMORS AND MYSTERIES 115
X. JOKES AND CROAKS 130
XI. EXMOOR COLLEGE 140
XII. SUNDAY MORNING BREAKFAST 152
XIII. TRICKERY 164
XIV. AN INSPIRATION 177
XV. PLANNING AND WISHING 188
XVI. THE MCLEAN SUPPER 204
XVII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 216
XVIII. THE FOOTBALL GAME 230
XIX. THREE FRIENDS 241
XX. MISS STEEL 255
XXI. A BACHELOR'S POCKET 266
XXII. CHRISTMAS--MID-YEARS--AND THE WANDERTHIRST 276
XXIII. SOPHOMORES AT LAST 291
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I think my trunk is on this train," she said. _Frontispiece_
PAGE "I wish you would tell me your receipt for making friends, Molly," exclaimed Nance. 51
"I'm scared to death," she announced. Then she struck a chord and began. 60
It was quite the custom for girls to prepare breakfasts in their rooms. 152
Molly Brown's Freshman Days
CHAPTER I.
WELLINGTON.
"Wellington! Wellington!" called the conductor.
The train drew up at a platform, and as if by magic a stream of girlscame pouring out of the pretty stucco station with its sloping redroof and mingled with another stream of girls emptying itself from thecoaches. Everywhere appeared girls,--leaping from omnibuses; hurryingdown the gravel walk from the village; hastening along the Universitydrive; girls on foot; girls on bicycles; girls running, and girlsstrolling arm in arm.
Few of them wore hats; many of them wore sweaters and short walkingskirts of white duck or serge, and across the front of each sweater wasembroidered a large "W" in cadet blue, the mystic color of WellingtonUniversity.
In the midst of a shouting, gesticulating mob stood Mr. Murphy, baggagemaster, smiling good naturedly.
"Now, young ladies, one at a time, please. We've brought down all thebaggage left over by the 9.45. If your trunk ain't on this train, it'llcome on the next. All in good time, please."
A tall girl with auburn hair and deep blue eyes approached the group.There was a kind of awkward grace about her, the grace which was hers byrights and the awkwardness which comes of growing too fast. She wore ashabby brown homespun suit, a shade darker than her hair, and on herhead was an old brown felt which had plainly seen service the yearbefore.
But knotted at her neck was a tie of burnt-orange silk which seemed todraw attention away from the shiny seams and frayed hem and to cryaloud:
"Look at me. I am the color of a winter sunset. Never mind the other oldtogs."
Surely there was something very brave and jaunty about this young girlwho now pushed her way through the crowd of students and endeavored toengage the attention of the baggage-master.
"I think my trunk was on this train," she said timidly. "I hope it is.It came from Louisville to Philadelphia safely, and when I re-checked itthey told me it would be on this train."
Now, Murphy, the baggage master, had his own peculiar method ofconducting business, and it was strictly a partial and prejudiced one.If he liked the face of a student, he always waited on her first,regardless of how many other students were ahead of her; and, as he toldhis wife later, he "took a fancy to that overgrown gal from the fust."
"I beg your pardon, but Mr. Murphy is engaged," put in a haughty lookingyoung woman with black eyes that snapped angrily.
"Now, Miss Judith," said the baggage master, who knew many of thestudents by name, "don't go fer to git excited. I ain't made no promisesto no one. It's plain to see this here young lady is a newcomer, and, assich, she gits my fust consideration."
"Oh, please excuse me," said the girl in shabby brown. "I'm not usedto--I mean I haven't traveled very much."
Judith turned irritably away.
"I should think you hadn't," she said in a low voice, but loud enough tobe overheard. "Freshies have a lot to learn and one is to respect theirelders."
The new girl put down her straw suit case and leaned against the wall ofthe station. She looked tired and there was a streak of soot across hercheek. The trip from Kentucky in this warm September weather was not thepleasantest journey in the world. While she waited for Mr. Murphy toreturn with news of her trunk, her attention was claimed by two girlsstanding at her elbow who were talking cheerfully together.
"Yes," said one of them, a plump, brown-eyed girl with brown hair,a slightly turned-up nose and a humorous twitch to her lips, "I have aroom at Queen's cottage. It's the best I could do unless I went into oneof the expensive suites in the dormitories, and you know I might as wellexpect to take the royal suite on the Mauretania and sail for Europe asdo that."
The other girl laughed.
"You'd be quite up to doing anything with your enterprising ways, NanceOldham," she exclaimed.
"Oh, are you going to Queen's cottage?" here broke in the girl in shabbybrown. "I'm there, too. My name is Molly Brown. I come from Kentucky. Ifeel awfully forlorn and homesick arriving at the University stationwithout knowing a soul."
There was a kind of ringing note to Molly Brown's voice which made theother girls listen more closely.
"I wonder if she doesn't sing," thought Nance Oldham, giving hera quick, scrutinizing glance. "Yes, I am at Queen's cottage," shecontinued aloud, "but that's about all I can tell you. I feel like agreeny, too. We'll soon learn, I suppose. This is Miss Brinton, MissBrown."
Caroline Brinton was rather a nondescript young person with dreamy eyesand an absent-minded manner. She came from Philadelphia, and she greetedthe new acquaintance rather coldly.
"Your trunk ain't here, yet, Miss," called the baggage master. "Likeenough it'll come on the 6.50."
Molly looked disturbed, while the black-eyed Judith standing nearbyflashed a triumphant smile, as much as to say:
"It only serves you right for pushing in out of turn."
"What are we to do now?" she asked of her new friends, ratherhelplessly.
"Take the 'bus up to Wellington," said brisk Nance Oldham. "I know thatmuch.
There's one filling up now. We'd better hurry and get seats."
The three girls crowded into the long, narrow side-seated vehiclealready half filled with students. Even at this early stage in theiracquaintance, the bonds of loneliness and sympathy had drawn themtogether.
"I'm a stranger in a strange land," Molly Brown had confided to thelistening ear of Nance Oldham. "I had made up my mind not to behomesick. I really didn't know what the feeling was like, because I havenever had a chance to learn. But I know now it's a kind of an all-gonesensation. I suppose little orphans have it when they first go into anorphan asylum."
"Oh, you'll soon get over it," answered Nance. "It's because you live sofar away. Kentucky, didn't you say?"
Molly nodded and looked the other way. The memory of an old brick housewith broad piazzas and many windows blurred her vision for a moment.But she resolutely pressed her lips together and began to watch thepassing scenery, as new and strange to her as the scenery in a foreignland.
The road leading to Wellington University skirted a pretty village andthen plunged straight into the country between rolling meadow landstinged a golden brown with the autumn sun. And there in the distancewere the gray towers of Wellington, silhouetted against the sky likea mediaeval castle.
Molly Brown clasped her hands and smiled a heavenly smile.
"Is that it?" she exclaimed rapturously.
"It must be," answered Nance, who also felt some quiet and reservedflutterings.
"It is," said Miss Brinton. "I came down to engage my room, so I know."
In the meantime, there was a busy conversation going on around them.
"I'm going to cut gym this year. It interferes too much," exclaimeda tiny girl with birdlike motions and intelligent, beady little eyes asbright and alert as the eyes of a little brown bird.
But evidently Molly was not the only person who had noticed thisresemblance, for one of the students called out:
"Now, Jennie Wren, you must admit that gym never had any charms for youand it's a great relief to give it up."
"Of course she must," put in another girl. "The only exercise JennieWren ever takes is to hop about on the lawn and prune her feathers."
"Never!" cried Jennie Wren. "I never wear them, not even quills. Ibelong to the S. P. C. A."
"Is there much out-of-door life here?" asked Molly Brown, of a tall,somewhat older girl sitting opposite her.
"This new girl may have timid manners," thought Nance Oldham; "butshe is not afraid to talk to strangers. I suppose that's the friendlySouthern way. She hasn't been in Wellington a quarter of an hour and shehas already made three friends,--Caroline and the station-master andme. And now she's getting on famously with that older girl. What I likeabout her is that she isn't a bit self-conscious and she takes it forgranted everybody's going to be kind."
"Oh, yes, lots of it," the older girl was saying to Molly kindly. "Ifyou have a taste for that kind of thing, you may indulge it to yourheart's content. There is a splendid swimming pool attached to the gym,and there are golf links, of course. You know they are quite famous inthis part of the world. Then, there are the tennis courts, and we'llstill have some canoeing on the lake before the weather gets too coldand later glorious skating. Besides all that, there are perfectlyripping walks for miles around. The college has several Saturdayafternoon walking clubs."
"But don't these things interfere with--with lectures?" asked Molly, whowas really quite ignorant regarding college life, although she hadpassed her entrance examinations without any conditions whatever.
The older girl laughed pleasantly. She was not good looking, but she hada fine face and Molly liked her immensely.
"Oh, no, you'll find there's plenty of time for everything you want toget in, because most things have their season, and most girlsspecialize, anyhow. A golf fiend is seldom a tennis fiend, and there arelots of walking fiends who don't like either."
Molly's liking for this big girl and her grave, fine face increased asthe conversation progressed. She had a most reassuring, kindly mannerand Molly noticed that the other girls treated her with a kind ofdeferential respect and called her "Miss Stewart." She learned afterwardthat Miss Stewart was a senior and a member of the "Octogons," the mostcoveted society in the University. She led in all the athletic sports,was quite a wonderful musician and had composed an operetta for herclass and most of the music for the class songs. It was whispered alsothat she was very rich, though no one would ever have guessed thissecret from Mary Stewart herself, who was careful never to allude tomoney and dressed very simply and plainly.
The omnibus now turned into the avenue which led to the college campusand there was general excitement of a subdued sort among the new girlsand greetings and calls from the older girls as they caught glimpses offriends strolling on the lawn.
"Queen's Cottage," called the driver and Molly stood up promptly,shrinking a little as twenty pairs of eyes turned curiously in herdirection.
Then the big girl leaned over and took her hand kindly.
"Won't you look me up to-morrow?" she said. "My name is Mary Stewart,and I stop at No. 16 on the Quadrangle. Perhaps I can help you getthings straightened out a bit and show you the ropes."
"Oh, thank you," said Molly, with that musical ring to her voice whichnever failed to thrill her hearers. "It's awfully nice of you. What timeshall I come?"
"I'll see you in Chapel in the morning, and we'll fix the time then,"called Miss Stewart as Molly climbed out, dragging her straw telescopeover the knees of the other passengers, followed by Nance Oldham, whohad waited for her to take the initiative.
As the two girls stood watching the disappearing vehicle, they becamethe prey to the most extreme loneliness.
"I feel as if I had just left the tumbrel on the way to my execution,"observed Molly, trying to laugh, although the corners of her mouthturned persistently down.
"But, anyway, I'm glad we are together," she continued, slipping her armthrough Nance's. "Queen's Cottage does seem so remote and lonesome,doesn't it? Just a thing apart."
The two girls gazed uncertainly at the rather dismal-looking shingledhouse, stained brown and covered with a mantle of old vines whichappeared to have been prematurely stripped of their foliage. It wassomewhat isolated, at least it seemed so at first. The next house wasquite half a block on and was a cheerful place, all stucco and red rooflike the station.
"Well, here goes," Molly went on. "If it's Queen's, why then, so be it,"and she marched up the walk and rang the front door bell, whichresounded through the hall with a metallic clang.
"Shure, I'm after bein' wit' you in a moment," called a voice fromabove. "You're the new young ladies, I'm thinkin', and glad I am to seeyou."
There was the sound of heavy footsteps down the stairs and the doorwas opened by Mrs. Murphy, wife of the baggage master and housekeeperfor Queen's Cottage. She was a middle-aged Irish woman with a round,good-natured face and she beamed on the girls with motherly interestas she ushered them into the parlor.
"Since ye be the fust comers, ye may be the fust choosers," she said;"and if ye be friends, ye may like to be roommates, surely, and that'sa good thing. It's better to room with a friend than a stranger."
The two girls looked at each other with a new interest. It had notoccurred to them that they might be roommates, but had not they already,with the swiftness peculiar to girls, bridged the gulf which separatestotal strangers, and were now on the very verge of plunging intointimate friendship? Would it not be better to seize this opportunitythan to wait for other chances which might not prove so agreeable?
"Shall we not?" asked Molly with that charming, cordial manner whichappeared to win her friends wherever she went.
"It would be a great relief," answered Nance, who was yet to learn thevalue of showing real pleasure when she felt it. Nevertheless, Nance,under her whimsical, rather sarcastic outer shell, had a warm and loyalheart.
Thus Molly Brown and Nance Oldham, quite opposites in looks andtemperaments, became roommates during their
freshman year at WellingtonCollege and thus, from this small beginning, the seeds of a life-longfriendship were sown.
The two girls chose a big sunny room on the third floor looking over aportion of the golf links. Molly liked it because it had blue wallpaperand Nance because it had a really commodious closet.
