Jack and Jill
9. The Debating Club
"Look here, old man, we ought to have a meeting. Holidays are over, and we must
brace up and attend to business," said Frank to Gus, as they strolled out of the
schoolyard one afternoon in January, apparently absorbed in conversation, but in reality
waiting for a blue cloud and a scarlet feather to appear on the steps.
"All right. When, where, and what?" asked Gus, who was a man of few words.
"To-night, our house, subject, 'Shall girls go to college with us?' Mother said we had
better be making up our minds, because everyone is talking about it, and we shall have
to be on one side or the other, so we may as well settle it now," answered Frank, for
there was an impression among the members that all vexed questions would be much
helped by the united eloquence and wisdom of the club.
"Very good; I'll pass the word and be there. Hullo, Neddy! The D. C. meets to-night, at
Minot's, seven sharp. Co-ed, &c.," added Gus, losing no time, as a third boy came
briskly round the corner, with a little bag in his hand.
"I'll come. Got home an hour earlier to-night, and thought I'd look you up as I went by,"
responded Ed Devlin, as he took possession of the third post, with a glance toward the
schoolhouse to see if a seal-skin cap, with a long, yellow braid depending therefrom,
was anywhere in sight.
"Very good of you, I'm sure," said Gus, ironically, not a bit deceived by this polite
"The longest way round is sometimes the shortest way home, hey, Ed?" and Frank
gave him a playful poke that nearly sent him off his perch.
Then they all laughed at some joke of their own, and Gus added, "No girls coming to
hear us to-night. Don't think it, my son.
"More's the pity," and Ed shook his head regretfully over the downfall of his hopes.
"Can't help it; the other fellows say they spoil the fun, so we have to give in, sometimes,
for the sake of peace and quietness. Don't mind having them a bit myself," said Frank,
in such a tone of cheerful resignation that they laughed again, for the "Triangle," as the
three chums were called, always made merry music.
"We must have a game party next week. The girls like that, and so do I," candidly
observed Gus, whose pleasant parlors were the scene of many such frolics.