A cannibal king With a big nose ring
Once loved a Zulu maid;
And every night
When the moon was bright
Across the canal he’d ;
To hug and kiss
His dusky Miss
While under the greenwood tree,
And when they met
They sang a duet
That went like this to me:
Sheridan,
Sheridan,
Green and white against the sky;
Sheridan,
Sheridan,
We’ll love Thee till we die!
Afterwards, Mimi wondered how they ever lived through it all—cleaning up after the wedding, putting slip covers over the living room furniture, packing away blankets in proof containers, putting in the chest—the of shopping and sewing—the packing.
 
The nicest thing happened to Mimi during those busy days. Mother bought a small new light-weight trunk and gave Mimi her big wardrobe one. Mimi had always wanted a wardrobe trunk but she hadn’t hoped to have one of her own until she was ready for college. In fact, she had already made up her mind to take the big metal trunk out in the garage and like it, but Mother was going to pack things in it that could go straight to Leipzig without being opened, except, of course, for the Customs. Mimi kept the wardrobe trunk open in her room with the pulled out and every time another dress was finished and pressed she hung it up and admired it. It was fun to see it fill up. Mimi knew she was a lucky girl to have six dresses; the peacock blue was new and so was the plaid wool. The organdy was, practically. It was such a grown-up thing to pack. The long full skirt had to be looped over the hangers twice. Such care had to be taken so as not to crush the sash. The others were made-overs but they did look nice. No one at Sheridan would know them.
 
“It seems foolish to put so much time on your clothes when you will have to wear navy blue uniforms like all the other girls in the Preparatory Department,” Mother said. She was being sure that Mimi packed . She was having a terrible time with her boots.
 
“But there will be many times I can use them, Mother.”
 
“I know and I want you to have plenty to last you. I will be away, so far away, and so long—anything could happen——”
 
The quaver in Mother’s voice caused Mimi to look up quickly. For a instant they looked at each other and then Mimi’s arms went around her Mother’s neck. Tightly they clung to each other and all the of parting, which each had been choking back, rushed around them. Again mother was holding her baby and, with all the self assurance her fourteenth birthday had brought melted away, a baby Mimi was clinging to her Mother.
 
“There, there, child,” Mother was saying in a steadier voice—Mother was so brave—“I must get the rest of your underclothes. You polish your tennis shoes so they will be dry enough to pack.” Mother had gone quickly.
 
That day the packing was finished and the trunk snapped shut and Mimi hung the key around her neck on a blue ribbon.
 
That day, Mimi said goodbye to Von, to King, who was being sent to the pasture for the winter, to Honky, to the campers, to Cissy, and to her dear, dear family. She couldn’t say goodbye to Miss Jane for she was still .
 
And the next day, Mimi arrived at Sheridan School. She was a day early, but Mother and Daddy wanted her safely there before they left and they were sailing soon now; consequently, she was the only Sheridan student on the train. She was one more than was expected .
 
“Heah you is, Miss,” said the Red Cap, who bundled Mimi off the train—Daddy had given him fifty cents and told him to “see after the young lady.” The porter looked up and down the empty platform and back at Mimi, “Shall I put you in a cab?”
 
“Yes,” Mimi answered the porter, trying not to appear nonplused by not being met. “To Sheridan School—Preparatory Hall,” she said to the driver as if taking a cab was something she did every day. That was the last time she ever said Preparatory Hall. From then on it was Prep Hall.
 
Though outwardly composed, Mimi was upset inside. She had always imagined arriving at school in the midst of a great , old girls rushing up to greet you, new girls making friendly approaches, chaperones taking your baggage checks. She knew Daddy had wired Mrs. Cole, the matron. Here she was alone in a taxi going no telling where! The taxi had skirted the business district and turned off the main thoroughfare. Mimi clutched her pocket book. Suppose—no she mustn’t imagine such silly things, but the papers were full of taxi hold-ups—last week in Chicago—but this wasn’t Chicago. It was a sleepy southern town—bump, bump, and just as Mimi was about to convince herself that she was being taken to a wayside, the taxi turned right on to the Boulevard—bump, bump, right again on to a long driveway. Leaning forward Mimi made a mental picture of Sheridan School, the size of the windshield. Between the winding rows of deep-set pin oaks and frost-kissed , Mimi saw the enormous red brick building with its three colonial porches set at , dividing the building into sections called “halls.” The center point of the horseshoe curve of the drive practically touched the concrete steps of the central porch.
 
The taxi stopped here and the driver blew his horn.
 
Although there were many signs of activity—windows open, airing, gardeners busy—it was several minutes before the door opened and a very Mrs. Cole popped out. She was setting her hat aright and buttoning the coat of her blue suit as she came out.
 
“Oh, dear, dear!” she was to the driver. “I must meet that one-forty train.” All the time she was speaking she was hurrying toward the taxi.
 
“But Ma’am——”
 
Then she saw Mimi——
 
“Why—” And Mrs. Cole’s arched up like a cat’s back and her whole face was one big question mark.
 
“I am Mimi Hammond,” Mimi announced calmly. She adored being very cool and collected when other people were confused. It gave her the most grown-up, fourteen year old feeling.
 
“I was going to meet you, child! Dear, dear, what a day—everything upside down. I just this minute found your father’s wire. Are you all right? Here driver, take the bags to the last entrance down. That is the Preparatory entrance. Come with me, Mickey—I mean—what did you say your name was?”
 
“Mimi.”
 
She’ll have to stop eventually to get her breath, Mimi thought. She bit her lips to keep from . In that minute she did three things: she liked Mrs. Cole, felt sorry for her and knew by Mrs. Cole’s apologetic manner that she had the upper hand of her. As she followed Mrs. Cole down the corridor to room 207, she was convinced that Mrs. Cole’s job was too big for her. “She’s not a bit like Miss Jane or our camp director. I bet they keep her because they hate to fire her,” Mimi was thinking.
 
“I’ll put you in here for the time being—er—er—Mimi.” She had the name at last.
 
“Thank you.”
 
“You’ll have to get along the best you can the rest of the afternoon. The supper bell will ring at six-thirty and you be there.”
 
Mrs. Cole didn’t say where the dining room was; she didn’t say a lot of other things that Mimi discovered for herself that sunny autumn afternoon. The campus paths, the friendly trees, the on the corner stone:
 
“SHERIDAN SCHOOL, TO
AND FEMALE EDUCATION.”
All informed her. The lonely corridors rang with her echoing footsteps. Once she glanced around quickly, as if a dainty hand had patted her shoulder saying, “Don’t be lonesome—we’re here.” She wondered which rooms they had lived in—great Aunt Patricia, Auntie Gay and Mother Dear.
 
The great dining hall with only one of so many tables set for supper did not bewilder Mimi. The members who had been arriving all afternoon did not her. They rather ignored her or looked bored as if to say, “Can’t we have a last fling without a student in?” Mimi sat next to Mrs. Cole at the end of the table. Of all the faces about her, one in particular stood out. It was fresh and the voice was crisp and vigorous. From that supper time on, Mimi loved Miss Bassett, the physical education teacher who still remembered her school days at Sargeant and planned things the girls enjoyed. She had the of making fun out of work.
 
“You needn’t be afraid to stay in your room by yourself, Mimi. Several of us would hear you if you called out. I shall be up early myself. Run along now and write your parents.” When all else slipped her mind, Mrs. Cole said, “Write your parents, dears.”
 
Mimi intended to. She located her fountain pen, dusted off the study table, but then she pulled the curtain back to let the breeze in and saw the harvest moon rising full and splendid from behind a dark bank of clouds and treetops. She rested her red head on her arms and gazed up at the moon as a seer would gaze into a golden crystal. What lay ahead of her here at Sheridan? Sometime later she picked up the pen, wrote a few impressions into her new diary and, putting on her gayest new , went to bed.
 
She was next morning by hurrying feet, excited voices. Over night the corridors had come to life. Some Magic had peopled the cave-like halls and summer-musted rooms with an ever increasing number of girls. Mimi had slept through breakfast, a thing she would not be permitted to do again unless she were ill, and the arrival of the station which had met the first train.
 
Which of those strangers would be Mimi’s roommate? How she wished one of the campers could have come to Sheridan, too! “I do hope I get somebody peppy and cute!” Mimi wished aloud as she finished putting on the plaid wool dress and started to the office of the .
 
“Freshman?” one of the most attractive girls Mimi had ever seen asked as she entered the office.
 
“No—Prep.”
 
“Sorry,” the girl replied, and turned to another “lost sheep” and asked the same question. The new girl answered, “Yes.” The attractive girl took her in charge immediately. Mimi looked after them.
 
“That inimitable, incomparable creature of the inferior species,” said a sassy voice over Mimi’s shoulder, “is Elizabeth Lewiston, known to her fellow of this particular prison as ‘Dit.’ She is a Senior in the College, Physical Ed major and assistant to Miss Bassett.”
 
Mimi already loved Miss Bassett and from afar she adored “Dit” the entire year.
 
“What do I thank for this information?” Mimi turned to her informer to size her up.
 
“Ah! Charming! You understood—comprehended—savvied, in other words. I’d feared my comprehensive vocabulary was past your feeble comprehension and ’tis not!”
 
By now Mimi was laughing, but the girl, whom Mimi never heard speak the entire year without making some one goggle-eyed at her vocabulary, continued:
 
“You have the honor of addressing Olivia Pendleton, near-child , who this year with a straight A card, God wot, shall graduate from the Sheridan Prep. Yo—a—a Sheridan——”
 
“I’m new,” Mimi replied but she felt neither new nor strange as, arm in arm with Olivia, they went from hall to hall, room to room, visiting and getting acquainted. Olivia seemed welcome everywhere in spite of her bookwormish appearance and Mimi was welcome with her. In fact, many other new Preps took it for granted Mimi was an old girl; she seemed so at ease and was smiling and saying hello to every one. was natural with Mimi, and her sunny plus and independence developed by her camping experience made her popular immediately.
 
That evening when all the girls new and old, college and preps alike, gathered in the , historic old for a get-acquainted rally, it was only natural that Mimi be in the center of the group of new preps. Mimi knew so many cute yells and songs and she into the task of teaching her group a yell with characteristic enthusiasm. The old preps had centered around Betsy Buchanan. Betsy, till now, had been their undisputed leader. She was a striking looking girl of perhaps fifteen; her short brown hair was slicked back from her forehead making a about her eyes more noticeable. She had one blue eye and one brown eye, and the thickest, curliest eyelashes imaginable. Mimi had admired her all afternoon but hadn’t met her. She looked questioningly toward her now. Mimi could feel a crisis. There was always a shaky feeling in the pit of her stomach when something vital was about to happen. She felt that way now.
 
she returned Betsy’s look.
 
Olivia pulled Betsy’s sleeve, forcing her attention. “Let’s give a locomotive for the new girls.” Betsy repeated, “Locomotive for the new girls—One, two, three.” The cheer went up.
 
For answer Mimi drew the heads of the new girls closer to her and in a stage whisper had them repeat after her a long yack—yack—yack, ending in a sky rocket for the old girls. Twice they rehearsed it. “Pitch your voice low—make it snappy—now! One—two—three——”
 
Another yell went up.
 
As Mimi jumped up in the center of her group and flung her arms up wildly to end the sky rocket, she saw something she couldn’t believe—a short plump girl with a weekend bag in one hand and a violin in the other was in the hall with Mrs. Cole.
 
“Sue!” Mimi . “Sue!” and dived through the crowd. As she ran she had shed her worries about a roommate. Here was Sue and what could be more perfect! She did not dream she was to a disappointment. She did not know that Betsy was glad she was gone.