



Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
Digital Library.)





[Illustration: Singing and cheering wildly they carried her to the
other end of the gym.]




POLLY'S FIRST YEAR AT BOARDING SCHOOL

BY

DOROTHY WHITEHILL

ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES L. WRENN

PUBLISHERS

BARSE & CO.

NEW YORK, N. Y., NEWARK, N. J.




Copyright, 1916 By Barse & Co.

Polly's First Year at Boarding School

Printed in the United States of America




CONTENTS

    CHAPTER I--THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
    CHAPTER II--THE PAPER CHASE
    CHAPTER III--THE WELCOME DANCE TO THE NEW GIRLS
    CHAPTER IV--THE CHOOSING OF THE TEAMS
    CHAPTER V--THE THANKSGIVING PARTY
    CHAPTER VI--A RAINY DAY
    CHAPTER VII--BETTY'S DUCKING
    CHAPTER VIII--CUTTING THE LECTURE
    CHAPTER IX--THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS
    CHAPTER X--THE VALENTINE PARTY
    CHAPTER XI--PRACTICING FOR THE INDOOR MEET
    CHAPTER XII--POLLY'S HEROISM
    CHAPTER XIII--BETTY'S IDEA
    CHAPTER XIV--THE FRESHMEN ENTERTAIN
    CHAPTER XV--VISITORS
    CHAPTER XVI--GHOSTS
    CHAPTER XVII--POLLY INTERVENES
    CHAPTER XVIII--WANTED: A MASCOT
    CHAPTER XIX--FIELD DAY
    CHAPTER XX--THE MUSICAL
    CHAPTER XXI--COMMENCEMENT DAY




CHAPTER I--THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL


Seddon Hall, situated on top of one of the many hills that lined either
side of the Hudson River, was a scene of hubbub and confusion. It was
the 27th of September and the opening day of school. The girls who had
already arrived were walking arm in arm about the grounds, in the broad
assembly hall, and in the corridors, talking, laughing and discussing
the summer vacation, plans for the winter, the new girls, and a variety
of subjects with fine impartiality.

In the Senior reception room Mrs. Baird, principal of the school, and a
number of the faculty were receiving and assuring the mothers and
guardians of the girls.

Outside the carriages from the 5:04 train were winding up the steep hill
from the station. The girls were waving and calling hellos as they
passed one another, and on the broad piazza there was a quantity of suit
cases, and a good deal of kissing.

Polly Pendleton, seated beside her uncle in one of the last carriages,
was just the least little bit frightened. She had never seen quite so
many girls nor heard quite so much laughing and talking in all her
rather uneventful life.

Polly's real name was Marianna, but her heavy dark hair framed a face so
bright and full of fun, and her big brown eyes had so much impishness in
their depth, that to have called her by anything so long and dignified
seemed absurd, and so she had been Polly all her life.

Until two months before this story opens she had lived her thirteen
years in an old fashioned New England town with her aunt, Hannah
Pendleton, her father's eldest sister, and quite as severe as her name.
It had been a very unexciting existence--school every morning with the
village minister, and a patchwork "stint" every afternoon under the
direction of Aunt Hannah.

Polly was beginning to think every day was going to be just like every
other, when suddenly Aunt Hannah died and she came to New York to live
with Uncle Roddy. It had been a great change to leave the old house and
the village, but under Uncle Roddy's jolly companionship she soon ceased
to miss any part of her old life.

After what seemed an age, the carriage finally reached the top of the
hill, and Polly, holding tight to her uncle's arm, was shown into the
reception-room. She was finding it harder every minute to keep down the
unaccountable lump that had risen in her throat, when Mrs. Baird,
catching sight of them, held out a welcoming hand.

"How do you do, Mr. Pendleton?" she asked. "And is this Marianna? My
dear," she added, putting her hand on Polly's shoulder, "I hope you are
going to be very happy and contented with us."

It was perhaps the fiftieth time Mrs. Baird had made that same remark
that day, but Polly, looking into her kindly blue eyes, felt, as had
every other new girl at Seddon Hall, the complete understanding and
sympathy of the older woman, and felt, too, without knowing