SCENE I.

SCENE: _It may represent a schoolroom, hall or campus, to suit the convenience. Entrances right and left or one entrance will be sufficient._

_FLORENCE and VIVIAN enter, arms entwined around each other’s waists, whispering eagerly. They wear yellow badges with black letters. EFFIE, a little girl of eleven or twelve, comes tiptoeing up behind, pounces on the entwined arms and cries “Boo!” Girls jump and shriek slightly, then confront EFFIE indignantly._

FLORENCE. Effie Warren, you’re a perfect little nuisance!

EFFIE (_mimicking her_). Florence Dennis, you’re a perfect big nuisance!

VIVIAN. How long had you been there behind us?

EFFIE. Not under two seconds and not exceeding two hours, Miss Vivian. Sorry I cannot tell any closer, but I left my watch at home on the piano, and two hundred miles is a bit too far to run before prayer time.

FLORENCE. Did you hear what we said?

EFFIE. Don’t you wish you knew?

VIVIAN. Did you, Effie?

EFFIE. What’ll you give me not to tell, Miss Mason?

FLORENCE. A box of chocolates.

EFFIE. Goody! Then I won’t tell. But when will you give it to me?

VIVIAN. Run away, Effie. Florence doesn’t carry chocolates to prayers.

EFFIE. I suppose not. “I shall be obliged to confiscate these, young ladies (_very primly_), although it distresses me very much to be obliged to do so.” Oh, Florence, what’s your badge for? S. O. M. F. Is it a new society, and can’t I join?

FLORENCE. Yes, Effie, it’s a new society. No, you can’t join.

EFFIE Why can’t I?

VIVIAN. You are much too young and giddy (frivolous, I should say) to understand the high motives and lofty ideals of the S. O. M. F. You don’t even know who Socrates was.

EFFIE No; but I know he’s nothing to do with your society or you’d never have mentioned his name. I’m not quite a baby, Miss Vivian, if my dresses aren’t down to my ankles. My ankles aren’t so big I’m ashamed to show ’em, either! S. O.—Society Of—oh, I’ll find out your old secret yet!

FLORENCE. Effie, you’re a perfect terror. (_Calling._) Betty! Betty!

_Enter BETTY._

BETTY. Oh, what is it?

FLORENCE. If you have any faint remnant of regard for that small sister of yours, rescue her before I fall upon her with evil intent and commit a fell and awful murder with malice aforethought.

BETTY. Justifiable homicide, I should call it. What’s the kidlet been doing now?

EFFIE (_indignantly_). Kidlet yourself, Bettina Warren! Oh, Betty, you’ve got a badge, too! Do tell me what S. O. M. F. means. I’m dying to know!

_Enter LILLIAN._

LILLIAN. Cheer up, Effie, we’ll all come to the wake.

_Enter MAUDE and BEATRICE, arms entwined._

MAUDE. To whose wake?

BEATRICE. Are any of you girls going to commit suicide? If so, count me out. I positively decline.

BETTY. It’s only my small sister here—no one that counts.

EFFIE. Don’t I? You may find out yet, Miss Bettina. You think you’re so grown-up!

LILLIAN. What you dying of, Effie? Unrequited affection for the butcher’s boy?

EFFIE. No, nor for the Professor’s boy, either.

MAUDE. Good for you, Effie! Oh, Lil!

LILLIAN. Saucy little bunch! Betty, why don’t you make that kid behave?

EFFIE. Kid yourself! I’d like to see her try it!

BETTY. I would not. Effie’s dying of unrequited curiosity, Lil.

BEATRICE. Did you ever hear of Mother Eve, Effie?

EFFIE. Yes, I have! And of Pandora, and Meddlesome Matty, and Curious Carrie, and Bee Mortimer, and so on.

FLORENCE. Effie, you’ll surely be an old maid, your tongue is so sharp.

EFFIE. Hope I will. I wouldn’t marry one of those soft, squashy, mushy academy boys you girls are so soft on for anything. I’d rather have a cat and a parrot. _They_ know something, anyway. And I’m going to find out what those letters stand for. S. O.—Society Of—M—Monkey—F—Fools.

GIRLS (_in chorus_). The idea!

BETTY. You’re a first rate guesser, Effie. You don’t want to be a monkey fool, do you?

EFFIE. Oh, I’ll guess it right yet. You see!

BETTY. I do believe she will, girls. She’s a perfect terror at finding out things she ought not to know.

VIVIAN. An investigating mind, hey?

FLORENCE. Look out, Vivian! If Miss Dunham hears you say “hey” she’ll give you another imposition.

VIVIAN. Who cares for Old Dunham? I’ll say “hey” when I please, and straw, too, for all her!

BEATRICE. Say, girls, I met her this morning and she put out her left hand to stop me—you know her way.

EFFIE (_mimicking_). Just so!

BEATRICE. Exactly, Effie. And she said, “Isn’t that a rather conspicuous badge, Miss Mortimer?”

MAUDE. What did you say, Bee?

BEATRICE. I looked down at it as if I was just being introduced to it, and answered modestly, “Is it, Miss Dunham?” Then she read the letters slowly, but with as much curiosity as Effie here, and said, “S—O—M—F—Society of Moonlight Flirts.” (_GIRLS shriek with laughter._)

LILLIAN. Pretty good for Dunham. Oh, why hadn’t _we_ thought of that?

VIVIAN. Really, that’s a great name.

FLORENCE. Beats ours all hollow.

BETTY. That’s even better than Effie’s “Monkey Fools.”

MAUDE. Better join forces with Dunham, Effie, and ferret out that secret.

BEATRICE. You might call yourselves the “S. O. C. P.,” Effie.

EFFIE. What’s that?

BEATRICE. Society of Curious Pryers.

EFFIE. Thanks. I shan’t join forces with the enemy, but I’m going to find out what those letters stand for, and don’t you forget it. You’d better tell me and let me join.

MAUDE. Well, you see, Effie, the membership is limited to seven—the mystic number.

EFFIE (_counting badges_). Betty, one; Maude, two; Lil, three; Bee, four; Floss, five; Vivian, six; Effie, seven. That just makes it.

VIVIAN. But Dorothy’s to be number seven, Effie.

EFFIE. Pooh! I saw Dorothy this morning, myself, and she hadn’t a sign of a badge.

FLORENCE (_taking badge from book_). Well, she’ll have this one when I see her again.

EFFIE. Oh, give it to me, Floss—do!

FLORENCE. I can’t Effie, truly. It’s promised to Dorothy.

EFFIE. Make me number eight, then.

BETTY. No. That will spoil it. Go get up a society of your own with Hazel and Helen and Marjorie.

FLORENCE. I’ll paint your badges, Effie, and never ask what the letters stand for.

EFFIE. Can’t switch me off that way. I’m going to find out about that S. O. M. F. of yours, and I’m going to join. You’ll see! (_Snatches badge from FLORENCE’S hand and runs off with it. GIRLS start to chase her._)

_Enter MISS DUNHAM._

MISS DUNHAM (_putting out left hand_). Stay, young ladies, the chapel is in the other direction.

LILLIAN. But—

MISS DUNHAM. No excuses, please. The bell has rung for prayers.

MAUDE. Mayn’t I—

MISS DUNHAM. If you mean may I not, Miss Atherton, say so.

MAUDE. May I not—

MISS DUNHAM. Certainly not. Whatever you wish to do, you must wait until after prayers. (_BETTY attempts to sneak off but is promptly recalled._) Miss Warren, I shall report you for insubordination and you will do one hundred lines after school.

FLORENCE (_aside_). Oh, ye gods and little fishes!

MISS DUNHAM. Miss Dennis, I shall report you for profanity. I have remarked before on your flippant manner of conversation. Two hundred lines, please. Come, young ladies, we’ll all be late to prayers. (_Ushers them all before her in opposite direction to that taken by EFFIE._)

_When all have disappeared EFFIE re-enters, pins on badge and capers around._

EFFIE. S. O. M. F.—Society of—that much is easy. M—Monkey—Moonlight—Morning—Midnight—oh, I bet that’s it. Society of Midnight. F—Fools—Flowers—Feasters. Oh, ho! I’ve got it. S. O. M. F.—Society of Midnight Feasters! Bee got a box from home yesterday. Well, you can just bet little Effie’s going to join and attend the first meeting. Now to learn where it’s to be.

_Enter HAZEL._

HAZEL. Hurry up, Effie; you’ll be late to prayers. (_Sees badge._) Why, Effie Warren, where’d you get that?

EFFIE (_softly_). Don’t be inquisitive, Hazel. That’s the badge of a new society within this Select Seminary for Young Ladies.

HAZEL. Well, you don’t belong. It’s for the big girls.

EFFIE. Doesn’t this look like it? My sister’s a member.

HAZEL. So’s mine, but she wouldn’t even tell me what S. O. M. F. stood for. (_Coaxingly._) Won’t you, Effie dear?

EFFIE. The idea, Hazel Dennis! Don’t you know I musn’t? It wouldn’t be honorable. I’m surprised at you!

HAZEL. H’m! Think you’re awful big, don’t you? I know your old password, anyway.

EFFIE. Bet you don’t!

HAZEL. Well, I do. I heard Vivian tell Floss. She said: “Tonight in Lil and Bee’s room, at the witching hour. Open sesame—Bx!” So there, now! Seems as if you might have found an English word instead of that Russian thing.

EFFIE. Well, I don’t know what they meant at all. Our password is not Russian at all, but English. You’re way off. There goes second bell.

HAZEL. Aren’t you coming?

EFFIE. Not just now. (_HAZEL runs out._) Bx! That’s Russian for box, I suppose. And tonight at midnight! I’ll be there. Oh, yes. Won’t it be fun to see the girls’ faces! Here goes for chapel. (_Runs out._)

CURTAIN.