The Rudiments of Grammar for the English-Saxon Tongue by Elizabeth Elstob


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Page 17

Still Grace felt confident that her team would rise to the occasion when
the game was called. They were two well-trained, too certain of their
powers to ever think of failing.

The bad weather had evidently not depressed the spirits of their
opponents. The juniors stood about laughing and talking. Julia Crosby
moved from one girl to the other whispering slyly.

"Wretch!" thought Grace. "How disagreeable she is. She was born too late.
She should have lived in the middle ages, when plotting was the fashion.
She is anything but a credit to her class and dear old Oakdale High
School."

Grace's rather vehement reflections were cut short by the approach of Miss
Thompson, who stopped to say a word of cheer to the girls before taking
her seat in the gallery.

"Well, Grace," she said, "this is a rather bad day outside, but still
there will be a few loyal souls to cheer you on to victory. May the best
man win. You must put forth every energy if you expect to conquer the
juniors, however. They have held the championship a long time."

"They will not hold it after to-day if we can help it," answered Grace.
"We feel fairly sure that we can whip them."

"That is the right spirit," said Miss Thompson. "Confidence is first
cousin to success, you know."

"Was there ever a teacher quite like Miss Thompson?" asked Nora as the
principal left them to take her seat in the gallery.

"She is a dear," said Marian Barber, "and she's on our side, too."

"There's the referee now!" exclaimed Grace. "Now, girls, make up your
minds to play as you never played before. Remember it's for the honor of
the sophomores."

By this time the gallery was half filled with an audience largely composed
of High School boys and girls. A few outsiders were present. Mrs. Harlowe
had come to see her daughter's team win the game, she said; for she knew
that Grace's heart was set on victory.

The referee, time-keeper and scorer chosen from the senior class took
their places. The whistle blew and the teams lined up. There was a round
of loud applause from the fans of both teams. The players presented a fine
appearance. The earnest, "do or die" expression on every face made the
spectators feel that the coming game would be well worth seeing.

The rival captains faced each other, ready to jump for the ball the
instant it left the referee's hands. There was a moment of expectant
silence; then the referee put the ball in play, the whistle blew and the
game began. Both captains sprang for the ball, but alas for the
sophomores, Julia Crosby caught it and threw it to the junior right
forward. It looked for a minute as though the juniors would score without
effort, but Nora O'Malley, who was left guard, succeeded so effectually in
annoying her opponent that when the bewildered goal-thrower did succeed in
throwing the ball, it fell wide of the basket. It had barely touched the
floor before there was a rush for it, and the fun waxed fast and furious.

During, the first five minutes neither side scored; then the tide turned
in favor of the juniors and they netted the ball.

Grace Harlowe set her teeth, resolving to play harder than ever. The
juniors should not score again if she could help it. Nora had the ball and
was dribbling it for dear life. Grace signaled her team, who responded
instantly; but, to their consternation, the juniors seemed to understand
the signal as fully as did their own team, and quickly blocking their
play, scored again.

There was a howl of delight from the junior fans in the gallery. The
sudden triumph of the enemy seemed to daze the sophomores. They looked at
their captain in amazement, then sprang once more to their work. But the
trend the game was taking had affected them, and in their desperate
efforts to score they made mistakes. Miriam Nesbit ran with the ball and a
foul was called, which resulted in the juniors scoring a point.

Nora O'Malley, in her excitement, caught the forward she was guarding by
the arm, and again a foul was called; this time, however, the juniors made
nothing from it. But the precious time was flying and only four minutes of
the first half remained. Again Grace signaled for another secret play, and
again the juniors rose to the occasion and thwarted her.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 25th Nov 2025, 3:47