it was patsie's stroke of genius that originated the white elephant sale. the school was racking its brains to raise a little money for the prisoners of war fund, and had swept aside as impossible such schemes as a bazaar, a pound day, or self-denial boxes.
"lily tried it on last term, and it was no go," said vivien; "couldn't make the kids shell out."
"well, they are only kids," qualified nellie; "and, of course, they haven't much pocket-money, so what can you expect?"
"we mustn't aim too high," said claire. "if we plan something too big we scare them, and they won't do anything at all—say their mothers object, and all the rest of the usual excuses."
"well, everyone is rather fed up with appeals," admitted audrey, lazily stretching her arms; "they come in by the dozen with the morning's post."
"and are generally chucked into the waste-paper basket," commented lorraine. "that doesn't help the prisoners of war. suggestions, please, quick!"
[115]"best put an advertisement in the newspapers: 'wanted, a new way of raising money without taking it out of the pockets of subscribers!'" chuckled dorothy.
"look here!" said lorraine. "joking apart, i think everybody's prepared either to give or spend just a little—even the kids. they've money enough for chalks, pencils, and all the rubbish they fill their pockets with."
"and swop in the cloak-room," added claudia.
"yes, they do swop," exclaimed patsie. "that's exactly what they love beyond everything. claudia castleton, you've given me a brain wave! we'll have a 'white elephant' sale. don't look so staggered! a 'white elephant' is a thing you don't want yourself, but which someone else might like very much. we must all of us have got heaps of such things at home. well, we'll bring them to school, and let them go as bargains—cheap. they ought to go like wildfire, and if there are any left, we'll have an auction. it would be prime fun!"
"patsie sullivan, i should like to shake hands with you!" declared lorraine. "when women go into parliament, i believe you'll become a distinguished member of the house of commons! brains like yours ought to be devoted to the service of their country!"
"i think it is rather a cute idea," admitted patsie modestly.
"we'll get to work upon it at once."
the next day, lorraine pinned up in the cloak-room [116]a large hand-printed poster which ran as follows:
what price white elephants?
have you anything at home you don't want?
then bring it to the school and sell it!
do you wish to buy nice things cheap?
come to our white elephant sale!
bargains will be flying!
you will go home all smiles!
remember, everything you buy helps to feed a british prisoner of war!
"flatter myself it's rather telling!" she confessed, as she watched the juniors crowd round to look. "there's nothing like a bargain to appeal to people!"
"i reckon it's going to catch on!" chuckled patsie.
it did catch on. the juniors decided that the idea was "topping", and readily promised contributions.
"we shall want cash too," lorraine reminded them. "remember, you've to buy somebody else's things as well as give your own."
"right you are! we'll make a half-crown league, if you like."
"oh, i wouldn't do that! it might be rough on some of the kids. give what you can, that's all."
the next step in the proceedings was to hunt at home for white elephants. lorraine and monica [117]turned out drawers and cupboards in search of any articles with which they could dispense.
"it's not a rummage sale, so we mustn't send rubbish," decreed lorraine. "it's got to be something somebody will take a fancy to. i wonder if rosemary wants this book of songs? i believe vivien would buy them."
"then put them in the sale and ask rosemary afterwards," counselled monica, rapidly running through the contents of an indian box, and contributing two chains of eastern beads and some bangles. "i've a pile of old story books i've done with. i expect those first form kids would like them. and i've some chalks and a drawing slate."
"and i've an almost new blotter, and some indian curios, and some foreign stamps, and a very good post-card album, and a quite new birthday book."
"that kate greenaway one? oh! you promised to give it to me!" exclaimed monica.
"you've got two of your own already!"
"i don't care! i want this as well."
"then buy it at the sale."
"no, i'm going to get jill's box of pastels and miriam's autograph album. i've bagged them in advance. tibbiekins, i must have that birthday book!"
"you can't, cuckoo! don't be greedy!"
"but you promised!"
"well, i can't help it if i did, and i don't remember promising, anyway. that birthday [118]book's going down to the sale, and if you want it, you'll just have to buy it. there!"
"you mean thing!" blazed monica. "just because you're head girl, you think you can do as you like. keep your old birthday book, and sell it to anybody you can. i shan't buy it! but i'll pay you out for this—see if i don't! i think you're perfectly hateful, lorraine! i wish you'd go away to a boarding school, or to a college like rosemary. i don't want you here at home, anyway!"
"all right, draw it mild!" said lorraine, who was well accustomed to her younger sister's outbursts of temper.
"you really did promise poor cuckoo that kate greenaway birthday book," remarked mrs. forrester later in the evening.
"i can't remember anything at all about it, mother," said lorraine impatiently. "cuckoo makes such an absurd fuss. surely she might be ready to give up something for the prisoners of war. it's not good for her always to get her own way! she's really so absurdly spoilt!"
"somebody else likes her own way occasionally!" suggested mrs. forrester, with uplifted eyebrows.
"well, you can't say i'm spoilt! the middle girl never is. it's rosemary and monica who get all the attention in this family!" declared lorraine, flouncing out of the room in a state of mind bordering on rebellion.
she wrapped up the birthday book in white tissue [119]paper, and packed it the first of all her articles for the sale. the best of us have our faults, and there was a strain of obstinacy in lorraine's disposition. she and monica had waged war before this, on occasion. they did not speak to each other at supper.
"what a nice, cheerful thing it is to have two thunder-clouds sitting at the table!" commented mrs. forrester. "it's so pleasant for the rest of us, isn't it?"
"mind the milk doesn't turn sour!" chuckled mervyn. "you girls are the limit!"
the sale, by special permission of miss kingsley, was fixed for three o'clock on thursday afternoon, a whole hour's lessons being remitted in its favour. it was to be held in the gymnasium, and the articles were to be spread out on benches. each form had contributed its own quota, and had appointed two representatives as saleswomen. the goods were marked, but bargaining was permissible if the figure was considered by the saleswoman to be too high. the monitresses constituted a court of appeal on this score.
all had done really nobly in the way of bringing contributions, and most of the "white elephants" were quite useful and desirable possessions. the girls wandered round, looking at an assortment of brooches, penknives, pencil-boxes, paints, chalks, books, music, blotters, photo frames, toys, and a number of little trifles such as girls love. lorraine, with three weeks' accumulated pocket money, a hitherto unspent birthday present, and what was [120]left in her savings-box, felt in a position to be munificent, and determined to patronize each separate stall. she first made a tour of them all, before she should decide upon her purchases.
"it's quite a good show," said vivien, fondly fingering a black cat mascot she had just bought and fastened upon her blouse. "seen the kids' things? they're ripping, some of them. they must have been looting at home! i've got the prettiest little purse! i'll show it to you. only gave sixpence for it. it's a real bargain!"
"i've been wanting a muff chain for years!" declared nellie. "i put it down regularly on my birthday and christmas lists, but my family always gave me something else instead. now don't you think this is just the jinkiest one you've ever seen? i can't think how audrey could part with it!"
"muff chains aren't fashionable now!"
"that won't trouble me in the least!"
"i hunted out my old dolls and dolls' clothes," said claire, "and the kids went wild over them. dora doesn't care for dolls, so it was no use keeping them for her. she's a regular tomboy."
"what did you bring, claudia?" asked nellie.
"those art magazines and copies of the connoisseur. dad let me have them from his studio."
"oh, goody! they're the very things i want!" rejoiced lorraine. "tell patsie not to sell them till i come!"
she had reached the second form stall, and was hurriedly reviewing its contents, gazing over the heads of a chattering mob of juniors. suddenly [121]she gave a gasp of consternation. in the middle of the bench, temptingly spread forth in a row, were a number of objects with which she was familiar—some coloured supplements from christmas numbers, a mug with a robin on it, a sandalwood box, a carved photo frame, a travelling ink-pot, two plaques of thorwaldsen's "night" and "morning", and a model of a swiss chalet. they were household articles which she had appropriated to herself, and had hidden away for safety in a drawer on the top landing at home. each one was a treasure. she loved the coloured supplements, and had meant to have them framed when she could afford it. the robin mug was her last link with childhood. the chalet, though really the property of richard, had been knocking about in the attic till she had rescued it, and the other things had all been apparently discarded by their rightful owners until she had adopted them. to see them here, laid out ready for sale, was a shock.
"it's that abominable little wretch of a cuckoo! i'll slay her for this!" she thought grimly, and started off to find the offender. she discovered her among a crowd of kindred pig-tails, and dragged her away into a discreet corner.
"what do you mean by prigging my things for your stall?" she demanded angrily.
"they're not your things!" retorted monica. "not more than anybody else's. those coloured pictures belong to father and mother, and the chalet was richard's, only i'm sure he doesn't want it, and the ink-pot's the one aunt ellie left [122]behind, and the photo frame is rosemary's. i found them all in a drawer on the top landing."
"you knew i'd put them there!"
monica coloured to the tips of her ears.
"they're as much mine as yours!" she flared.
"did mother say you might have them?"
"i didn't ask her, and no more did you when you took them! anyhow, they're 'white elephants' now, and 'on sale'."
"you must get them back, monica!" urged lorraine desperately. "tell kitty and joan you took them by mistake!"
"how can i? really, lorraine, i wonder at you! do you want me to disgrace the family? nice thing it would look for the head girl's sister to take things back that she'd just given! why, the whole form would scoff at us! surely you might be ready to give up something for the prisoners of war? that's what you said about me, at any rate! if you want your old things, you must buy them back!"
and monica, making a sudden dive between two fifth form girls, escaped from her sister, and sought the farthest corner of the gymnasium.
in spite of her indignation, lorraine could not help acknowledging that there was justice in these remarks. it would certainly be most undignified, and in fact impossible, to take back articles once given to the sale. cuckoo's taunt about the prisoners of war stung lorraine badly. if she wanted her treasures, there was nothing for it but to put the best face she could on the matter, and [123]buy them at once before anybody else had an innings. it might already be too late. in considerable anxiety she hurried back to the stall, and found a curly-headed junior critically handling the robin mug. she snatched it from the child with scant ceremony.
"if you don't want this, doris, i do! how much, kitty, please? i'll take these pictures too; yes, and this chalet; and i'll have the ink-pot and the frame as well. that's all, if you'll make them into a parcel. thanks!" and lorraine sailed away, leaving doris open-mouthed, and kitty cheerfully clinking the change in her brown leather moneybag. it was annoying to have spent so much, for it meant forgoing a piece of music which she had intended to give to morland. she watched her cousin buy it instead.
"i'll borrow it from vivien and copy it," she thought rapidly. "or if morland plays it twice over, he'll have it by heart. hallo! four o'clock already, and these stalls not half cleared! we shall have to have an auction."
patsie, on being consulted, agreed, and readily undertook the post of auctioneer, to which she was voted by general accord.
"i don't know whether to take it as compliment or not," she twittered. "i suppose you think i've got the gift of the gab, and will make a good cheap jack! well, i'll do my best for you. here goes! give me a ruler or something for a hammer."
a treble line of girls spread themselves round in an amused circle. patsie, and especially patsie [124]in a bantering mood, was always worth listening to. they prepared themselves for a half-hour of sheer fun.
the amateur auctioneer—or rather auctioneeress—seized upon the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be one of claire's discarded dolls. she held it aloft, and descanted eloquently upon its virtues.
"look at this!" she proclaimed. "a real parisian doll—bébé jumeau—je fais dodo—je voudrais une maman—and all the rest of it! kindly notice, they're real ball joints, and not just slung together with bits of elastic. observe the beautiful little teeth, that might have stepped out of a dentist's advertisement, and the richness of the brown curls. 'hair rather thin', did someone remark? well, buy a new wig for it, then; you can't expect everything! 'lost a hand?' so have a good many of our soldiers. it's only in the fashion. be glad it hasn't lost both, and a leg too! white silk dress and red coat, and clothes that take on and off! why, i feel that i want to play with it myself, and take it to bed with me. what offers? someone kindly make a bid to begin. two shillings—thank you! two and six! three shillings! come, ladies, it's worth pounds instead of shillings at present-day prices! four shillings! four and six! i see i shall have to buy it myself. only four and six! i'm getting too fond of it to part with it! five shillings! i'm going to name it rosabelle! five shillings! going at only five shillings! with a red coat and a white silk dress! i'll throw in this [125]hat as well. five shillings—who'll say five and six? it's a real bargain. the sort you only meet once in a lifetime. going at five and six! real parisian. going! going! gone!"
patsie struck her ruler on the back of an extemporized desk, and dropped the doll in question into the delighted arms of virginia hewlett; then, leaving dorothy to complete the business part of the transaction, transferred her attention to other objects of sale.
"here's a post-card album!" she announced. "if you don't collect post cards, you ought to; and if you haven't an album to put them in, now's your chance! best crocodile back! 'imitation', did somebody remark? well, never mind, it's quite as good as original. we can't import crocodiles during the war. the kaiser's bought them all up to manufacture crocodile tears! 'some of the slips torn'? mend them up with a little seccotine, and they'll be as good as new. fourpence! sixpence! eightpence! a shilling! going at a shilling! going! gone!"
there seemed no end to patsie's powers of apt description. the girls giggled hysterically as, almost with tears in her voice, she descanted upon the merits of a cracked teapot, the beauties of a battered birdcage, or the capacity of a japanese pencil-box. the fun of out-bidding spread like infection, and many of the articles fetched far more than they had originally been marked at by their owners. there are limits, however, to school-girl pockets, and miss kingsley had made a special [126]proviso that no credit was to be given. as the purses grew thin, the objects on sale went off, as patsie expressed it, "dirt cheap", and several girls secured bargains surpassing even their wildest dreams.
"time's getting on, and we put up the shutters at five," continued the loquacious auctioneeress. "i'll take the rest in lots. some one please give me a cough lozenge, for my throat's getting hoarse. you don't wonder? then take my place, and do the talking yourself. you're welcome to it. oh! you'd rather not, when it comes to the point? give me a bid, then, to start this charming assortment of fancy articles—chalks, marbles, pencils, wools all mixed together and going for next to nothing. pennies will do it. we don't want to take anything home again."
thanks to patsie's persuasive tongue, the whole stock of goods was at last disposed of, and quite a nice little sum was counted up for the prisoners of war.
the girls trudged home with their parcels, in high spirits, voting the whole affair a huge success, and laughing immoderately over some of the incidents. vivien, in an unwonted mood of generosity, actually offered to copy the piece of music for her cousin. claire and nellie, after quarrelling over a framed picture, patched up peace, and presented it between them to their form mistress.
lorraine, when she reached her own bedroom, locked her particular treasures securely in her bottom drawer. but that night, when she was [127]settling snugly on her pillow, there was a patter of bedroom slippers along the landing, her door burst open, and a little sobbing, dressing-gowned figure came creeping into her bed.
"i'm sorry i took your things," it gulped. "i c—c—couldn't go to sleep till i'd said so. i t—t—took them because i was cross about the b—b—birthday book. i was a b—b—b—east!"
"i was a bigger beast, cuckoo!" confessed lorraine, hugging her tight. "look here, i'll buy you another kate greenaway birthday book, exactly the same only absolutely new, and give it to you for christmas. would you like that?"
"yes, i'd love it. but might i have it before christmas? i meant to copy some of those dear little pictures on to a calendar for mother. she said she liked them so much, and i'd planned it for her present, and that was why i wanted the birthday book so badly."
"poor old cuckoo! i understand. i'll order it at once at smith's."
"you don't think me greedy?"
"not a bit of it! i wish i'd known about the calendar. there, wipe your eyes, and go back to your own bed. it's striking ten, and you ought to have been asleep an hour ago!"
