Dorothy Dale (A Girl of To-Day) | Page 3

be here, or not to expect to
go blundering along the roads, disgracing the school. Now, Miss Tavia
Travers, please step back."
All the commotion ceased. Tavia the patriotic girl--she who had been
searching for flowers in all sorts of dangerous and lonely places--not to
march?
"Teacher," spoke up Dorothy, her cheeks aflame and her voice
quivering. "It was not Tavia's fault. She--"
"Silence, Dorothy, or you will also lose your place."
"But teacher--" insisted the girl, with commendable courage, "I know
Tavia--"

"Leave the ranks!" called Miss Ellis and Dorothy stepped down--and
slipped into a seat alongside her weeping friend. "Sarah Ford, you may
lead."
This announcement caused no less surprise than did the punishment of
Dorothy. To think that Sarah Ford, a stranger in Dalton, whose father
was not even a firemen, let alone a soldier, should take first place!
It must be admitted that not every girl cared when Tavia left the ranks,
for she was not a general favorite: but Dorothy! Major Dale's daughter!
and he the head marshal!
With a conceited toss of her head Sarah Ford stepped to the front.
"She's mean," was whispered around. "Perhaps teacher knows only the
meanest girl would ever take Doro's place."
Meanwhile two very miserable girls were crying their eyes sore in the
back seat.
"Oh, Doro!" sobbed Tavia, "to think you lost it on my account."
"It was not on your account," wailed Dorothy, "but on account of an
unreasonable teacher."
"Hush! She'll hear you."
"Hope she does," went on the crying girl. "I would just like her to know
what I think of her. I don't care if I never come in this old school
again."
"I never will," whispered Tavia.
The ranks were formed now, and the girls marched out. An
unpardonable expression covered the face of Sarah Ford as she passed
the tearful ones.
"There," hissed Tavia, sticking out her tongue at the unpopular leader.
"Sneak!" she hissed again, and made the most unmistakable face of

contempt and defiance at the haughty Sarah.
Many looked sadly at Dorothy and with pity at Tavia. Certainly these
two girls deserved to march. Dorothy had done so much to help, in fact
some of the girls knew she had helped the major with all the letter
writing, inviting the Rochester men, and sending instructions to the
firemen. And to think that now, at the last moment, she should be
debarred!
And Tavia too, had been so happy at the prospect of the parade. Poor
Tavia! Everybody knew she had a hard time of it, anyway, only for
Dorothy, who always helped her out.
"Now, young ladies," said Miss Ellis, as the last girl passed out, "you
may fall in at the end."
"I don't care to," Dorothy spoke up, wiping her eyes.
"But I say you must!"
"Do," whispered Tavia, "we can see them anyway."
This was enough for Dorothy. Both girls stood up, straightened out
their crushed dresses, patted their red eyes with their handkerchiefs,
and fell in at the end of the line.
"I don't care a bit," said Dorothy smiling. "I would just as soon be with
you any way. And besides, we will be right next to the Veterans."
"Oh, good," answered her companion, "I would rather be there than up
front. Only, of course, you should lead."
The Dalton Drum and Fife Corps was playing loudly. There seemed
something very solemn about the lively tune in honor of the "Boys"
who had answered their last roll call. Tavia's eyes were swimming, and
not a freckle was to be seen beneath the deep red color that framed
them.
Dorothy could not talk. It was so sad--that soldiers had to die just like

other persons. She prayed her "Daddy" would not be called for years
and years.
At the corner of the street the school children were joined by the main
column. The veterans fell in--back of Dorothy and Tavia!
Major Dale was grand marshal, and of course came first. He looked
surprised at seeing his daughter--his Little Captain, last in line with the
children.
Then he glanced at Tavia. It was certainly something for which she was
responsible he was sure, for Dorothy had told him she had remained
away from school and missed the last rehearsal. "Halt," called the
major, and his men stood still.
At a signal the entire ranks waited. Miss Ellis stepped up to the marshal
smiling. She had evidently forgotten his daughter had lost her place.
"I need two girls to carry the end flags," he began. "These old men have
all they can do to travel. The flags are not heavy--here, the two last
girls will do nicely!"
Dorothy and Tavia stepped to the sides and gracefully took the flags
from the hands of the aged soldiers.
The only girls