These schoolgirls are usually depicted as pre-adolescent or adolescent, falling within the age range of elementary to high school students. They may be portrayed as classmates, best friends, or even siblings attending the same educational institution. The narrative surrounding a pair of schoolgirls often explores various themes relevant to their age group, such as friendship, loyalty, personal development, academic pursuits, extracurricular activities, and the ups and downs of teenage life. It may delve into their everyday routines, classroom interactions, shared hobbies, and the valuable life lessons they learn together. The portrayal of these characters can vary widely, depending on the medium and cultural context. They may be depicted as cheerful, curious, and optimistic individuals who face challenges head-on, or they may exhibit contrasting personalities, providing an opportunity for character development and growth.
IT was precisely five minutes past eleven on the first day of the autumn term, and
Avondale College, which for seven whole weeks had been lonely and deserted,
and given over to the tender mercies of paperhangers, painters, and charwomen,
once more presented its wonted aspect of life and bustle. The reopening was a
very important event in the opinion of everybody concerned, partly because it
marked the beginning of a fresh school year, and partly because the building had
been altered and enlarged, many changes made in the curriculum, and many new
names added to the already long list in the register. Three hundred and eightyseven
pupils had assembled that morning in the great lecture hall, the largest
number on record at the College; five additional classes had been formed, and
there were six extra mistresses. At the eleven o'clock interval the place seemed
swarming with girls; they thronged the staircase and passages, filled the pantry,
blocked the dressing-rooms, and overflowed into the playground and the
gymnasium-girls of all sorts and descriptions, from the ten-year-olds who had
just come up (rather solemn and overawed) from the Preparatory to those elect
and superior damsels of seventeen who were studying for their Matriculation.
By the empty stove in the Juniors' Common Room stood half a dozen
"betwixt-and-betweens", whose average age probably worked out at fourteen
and a quarter, though Mavie Morris was a giantess compared with little Ruth
Harmon. The six heads were bent together in closest proximity, and the six
tongues were particularly active, for after the long summer holidays there was
such a vast amount to talk about that it seemed almost impossible to discuss all
the interesting items of news with sufficient rapidity.
"The old Coll. looks no end," said Grace Russell. "It's so smart and spanky
now-one hardly knows it! Pictures in the classrooms, flowers on the
chimneypieces, a stained glass window in the lecture hall, busts on brackets all
along the corridor wall, and the studio floor polished! Every single place has
been done up from top to bottom."
"I'd like it better if it didn't smell so abominably of new paint," objected
Noëlle Kennedy. "When I opened the studio door, the varnish stuck to my
fingers. However, the school certainly looks much nicer. Why, even the book
cupboard has been repapered."
"That's because you splashed ink on the wall last term. Don't you remember
how fearfully cross Miss Hardy was about it?"
"Rather! She insisted that I'd done it on purpose, and couldn't and wouldn't
believe it was an accident. Well, thank goodness we've done with her! I'm glad
teachers don't move up with their forms. I'm of the opposite opinion to Hamlet,
and I'd rather face the evils that I don't know than those I do. Miss Pitman can't
possibly be any worse, and she may chance to be better."
"I say, it's rather a joke our being in the Upper Fourth now, isn't it?" remarked
Ruth Harmon.
"I'm glad we've all gone up together," said Dorothy Greenfield. "There's only
Marjory Poulton left behind, and she won't be missed. We're exactly the same
old set, with the addition of a few new girls."
"Do you realize," said Mavie Morris, "that we're the top class in the Lower
School now, and that one of us will be chosen Warden? There'll be an election
this afternoon."
"Why, so there will! What a frantic excitement! We shall all have to canvass in
the dinner-hour. I wonder if Miss Tempest has put up the list of candidates yet? I
vote we go to the notice board and see; there's just time before the bell rings."
Off scrambled the girls at once, pushing and jostling one another in their
eagerness to get to the lecture hall. There was a crowd collected round the notice
board, but they elbowed their way to the front notwithstanding. Yes, the list was
there, in the head mistress's own handwriting, and they scanned it with varying
comments of joy or disappointment, according as their names were present or
absent.
"Hurrah!"
"Disgusting!"
"No luck for me!"
"I don't call it fair!
"You're on, Dorothy Greenfield, and so am I."
"I say, girls, which of you'll promise to vote for me?"
Avondale College was a large day school. Its pupils were drawn from all parts
of Coleminster and the surrounding district, many coming in by train or tramcar,
and some on bicycles. Under the headmistress-ship of Miss Tempest its numbers
had increased so rapidly that extra accommodation had become necessary; and
not only had the lecture hall and dressing-rooms been enlarged, but an entire
new wing had been added to the building. Avondale prided itself greatly upon its
institutions. It is not always easy for a day school to have the same corporate life
as a boarding school; but Miss Tempest, in spite of this difficulty, had managed
to inaugurate a spirit of union among her pupils, and to make them work
together for the general good of the community. She wished the College to be,
not merely a place where textbooks were studied, but a central point of light on
every possible subject. She encouraged the girls to have many interests outside
the ordinary round of lessons, and by the help of various self-governing societies
to learn to be good citizens, and to play an intelligent and active part in the
progress of the world. A Nature Study Union, a Guild of Arts and Crafts, a
Debating Club, a Dramatic Circle, and a School Magazine all flourished at
Avondale. The direction of these societies was in the hands of a select committee
chosen from the Fifth and Sixth Forms, but in order that the younger girls might
be represented, a member of the Upper Fourth was elected each year as "Warden
of the Lower School", and was privileged to attend some of the meetings, and to
speak on behalf of the interests of the juniors.
Naturally this post was an exceedingly coveted honour: the girl who held it
became the delegate and mouthpiece of the lower forms, an acknowledged
authority, and the general leader of the rest. It was the custom to elect the warden
by ballot on the afternoon of the reopening day. Six candidates were selected by
Miss Tempest, and these were voted for by the members of the several divisions
of the Third and Fourth Forms.
Among the six chosen for this election, none was more excited about her
possible chances than Dorothy Greenfield, and as our story centres round her
and her doings she merits a few words of description. She was a tall, slim, rather
out-of-the-common-looking girl, and though at present she was passing through
the ugly duckling stage, she had several good points, which might develop into
beauty later on. Her large dark grey eyes, with their straight, well-marked brows,
made you forgive her nondescript nose. She lacked colour, certainly, but her
complexion was clear, and, despite her rather thin cheeks, the outline of her face
was decidedly pleasing. Her mouth was neat and firm, and her chin square; and
she had a quantity of wavy, fluffy brown hair that had an obstreperous way of
escaping from its ribbon and hanging over her ears. During the past six months
Dorothy had shot up like Jack's beanstalk, and she was still growing fast-an
awkward process, which involved a certain angularity of both body and mind.
She was apt to do things by fits and starts; she formed hot attachments or took
violent prejudices; she was amiable or irritable according to her mood, and
though capable of making herself most attractive, could flash out with a sharp
retort if anybody offended her. She had a favourable report in the school: she
was generally among those marked "excellent" in her form, and she was above
the average at hockey and tennis, had played a piano solo at the annual concert,
won "highly commended" at the Arts and Crafts Exhibition, and contributed an
article to the School Magazine.
Possessing such a good all-round record, therefore, Dorothy might have as
reasonable a possibility of success as anybody else at the coming election, and
she could not help letting her hopes run high. The ballot was to be taken at halfpast
three, which left little time for canvassing; but she meant to do the best for
herself that circumstances would allow. She was a day boarder, so, when
morning classes were over, she strolled into the Juniors' Common Room to
discuss her chances. Already some papers were pinned up claiming attention for
the various candidates:
"Vote for Val Barnett, the hockey champion."
"Hope Lawson begs all her friends to support her in the coming election."
"Grace Russell solicits the favour of your votes."
"Noëlle Kennedy relies upon the kindness of the Lower School."
"Hallo, Dorothy!" said Mavie Morris. "Aren't you going to add your quota to
the general lot? All the others are getting up their appeals. I wish Miss Tempest
had put me on the list of likelies!"
"I can't think why she didn't," replied Dorothy. "I should say you're far more
suitable than Noëlle Kennedy."
"Why, so do I, naturally. But there! it can't be helped. I'm not among the elect,
so I must just grin and bear it. Is this your appeal? Let me look."
She seized the piece of paper from Dorothy's hand, and, scanning it eagerly,
read the following lines:
Ye voters at the school election,
I beg you'll look in my direction;
I hate to boast and brag, but yet
For once I'm blowing my own trumpet.
Now don't you think in me you'd find
A candidate suited to your mind?
No bookworm I, but fond of sports,
Hockey or games of other sorts;
At acting I can run the show,
And play my part, as well you know.
At meetings all your wants I'd state,
And make a speech at the debate.
I'd back in all scholastic storms
The interests of the Lower Forms.
A zealous leader I should be,
So when you vote, please remember me!
I hope these verses you will pardon,
And choose me for the Lower School Warden.
"What do you think of it?" asked Dorothy. "I made it up during the history
lesson, and wrote it on my knee under the desk. One wants something rather
different from other people's, and I thought perhaps no one else would have a
rhyming address."
"It's not bad," commented Mavie, "but you do brag."
"I've apologized for it. One must state one's qualifications, or what's the use of
being a candidate? Look at Val's notice-she calls herself the hockey champion."
"No one takes Val too seriously. I don't believe she's the ghost of a chance,
though she did win the cup last season. One needs more than that for a warden;
brains count as well as muscles."
"I know; that's why I tried poetry."
"Please don't call that stuff poetry. Half of the lines won't scan."
There was a pucker between Dorothy's dark eyebrows as she snatched back
her literary bantling.
"I don't suppose that matters. Everybody isn't so viper-critical," she retorted.
"Shall I pin it up here or in the gym.?"
"It will be more seen here; but I warn you, Dorothy, I don't think the girls will
like it."
"Why not?"
"Well, it's clever enough, but it's cheeky. I'm afraid somehow it won't catch on.
If you take my advice, you'll tear it up and just write 'Vote for Dorothy
Greenfield' instead."
But taking other people's advice was not at present included in Dorothy's
scheme of existence; she much preferred her own ideas, however crude.
"I'll leave it as it is," she answered loftily. "It can't fail to attract attention
anyhow."
"As you like. By the by, if you're going round canvassing, there's been a new
--"
But Dorothy did not wait to listen. She was annoyed at Mavie's scant
appreciation of her poetic effort; and having manifested her independence by
pinning the offending verses on the notice board, she stalked away, trying to look
nonchalant. She was determined to use every means at hand to ensure success,
and her best plan seemed to be to go round personally soliciting votes.
"I'll tackle the dinner girls now," she thought, "and I expect there'll be just
time to catch the others when they come back in the afternoon. Thank goodness
the election is only among the Third and Fourth! It would be terrible if one had
to go all round the school. Why, I never asked Mavie! How stupid! But she's
certain to be on my side; she detests Val, and she's not particularly fond of Hope
either, though of course there's Grace. Had I better go back and make sure of
her?"
On the whole she decided that as she had left Mavie in rather a high and
mighty manner, it would seem a little beneath her dignity to return at once and
beg a favour, so she went into the playground instead to beat up possible
electors. She was not the first in the field, by any means. Already Valentine
Barnett and her satellites were hard at work coaxing and wheedling, while the
emissaries of Doris Earnshaw and Noëlle Kennedy were urging the
qualifications of their particular favourites. Hope Lawson was seated on the seesaw
in company with a number of small girls from the Lower Second.
"What's she doing that for?" thought Dorothy. "Those kids haven't got votes.
It's sheer waste of time to bother with them. She's actually put her arm round that
odious little Maggie Muir, and taken Nell Boughton on her knee! I shouldn't care
to make myself so cheap. I suppose she's letting Blanche Hall and Irene Jackson
do her canvassing for her."
Dorothy was, however, too much occupied with her own affairs to concern
herself greatly about her neighbours' movements. To put her claims adequately
before each separate elector was no mean task, and time fled all too quickly. She
used what powers of persuasion she possessed, and flattered herself that she had
made an impression in some quarters; but very few of the girls would give any
definite promises. Many of them, especially those of the Middle and Lower
Thirds, seemed to enjoy the importance of owning something which it was in
their power to withhold.
"I'm waiting till I've heard what you all six have to say for yourselves," said
Kitty Palgrave condescendingly. "I shan't make up my mind until the very last
minute."
"It's so difficult to choose between you," added Ellie Simpson, a pert little
person of twelve.
Their tone verged on the offensive, and in any other circumstances Dorothy
would have administered a snub. As it was, she pocketed her pride, and merely
said she hoped they would remember her. She heard them snigger as she turned
away, and longed to go back and shake them; but discretion prevailed.
"One has to put up with this sort of thing if one wants to get returned
Warden," she reflected. "All the same, it's sickening to be obliged to truckle to
young idiots like that."
She had not by any means found all the possible voters, so she decided to
return to the Juniors' Common Room. Mavie had gone, but a number of other
girls stood near the notice board talking, and reading the appeals of the various
candidates. Dorothy strolled up to see how her verses were being received. They
made a different impression on different minds, to judge from the comments that
met her ears.
"It's ripping!" exclaimed Bertha Warren.
"Says she can run the show, does she?" sneered Joyce Hickson.
"I call it just lovely!" gushed Addie Parker.
"Her trumpeter's dead, certainly!" giggled Phyllis Fowler. "Hallo, Dorothy! I
didn't see you were there."
"I'm going to vote for you, Dorothy," said Bertha, "and so is Addie. Phyllis
has promised Hope, and Joyce is on Val's side. If you like, I'll canvass for you
here, while you do the gym. You'd better not waste any time, because the others
are hard at it, and it's best to get first innings if you can."
Dorothy hastily agreed, and hurried off to the gymnasium, where she was
fortunate enough to catch some of her own classmates. They were all sucking
enormous peppermint "humbugs", and were almost speechless in consequence;
but they had the politeness to listen to her, which was more than she had
experienced from some of the girls.
"Very sorry!" replied Annie Gray, talking with difficulty. "You should have
asked us sooner. Val's been round, and simply coerced us."
"She made it a hockey versus lacrosse contest, and of course we plumped for
hockey," murmured Elsie Bellamy.
"Val's simply ripping at hockey!"
"Is that all you care for?" exclaimed Dorothy scornfully. "Val has nothing else
to recommend her."
"Hasn't she? What about peppermint 'humbugs'? I call them a very substantial
recommendation."
"Did Val give you those?"
"Rather! She put on her hat and bolted out into High Street and bought a
whole pound. Lucky Miss James didn't catch her as she dodged back!"
"She's handing them round to everybody," added Helen Walker. "I wish I had
taken two."
For once Dorothy's pale cheeks put on a colour. She could not restrain her
indignation.
"How atrociously and abominably mean!" she burst out. "Why, it's just
bribery, pure and simple. I didn't think Val was capable of such a sneaking trick.
She knows quite well how unfair it is to the rest of us."
"Why, you could have done the same if you'd liked," laughed Elsie. "It's not
too late now. I've a preference for caramels, if you ask me."
"I'd be ashamed!" declared Dorothy. "Surely you ought to give your votes on
better grounds than 'humbugs' or caramels? Such a thing has never been done
before at the Coll."
"All the more loss for us," giggled Helen flippantly.
"Do you mean to tell me you don't care whether a candidate behaves
dishonourably or not?"
"Not I, if she's jolly."
"I'm disgusted with you, absolutely disgusted! If you haven't a higher ideal of
what's required in a warden, you don't deserve to have votes at all."
"Draw it mild, Dorothy!" chirped Elsie.
"I won't. I'll tell you what I think of you: you're a set of greedy things! There
isn't one of you with a spark of public spirit, and if the election is going to be run
on these lines, I--"
But Dorothy's tirade was interrupted by the dinner bell; and the objects of her
scorn, hastily swallowing the offending peppermints, decamped at a run, leaving
her to address a group of empty chairs. She followed more leisurely, fuming as
she went. She knew she had been foolish and most undiplomatic to lose her
temper so utterly, but the words had rushed out before she could stop them.
"They wouldn't have voted for me in any case," she said to herself, "so it
really doesn't matter, after all, they're only a minority. I expect it will prove a
very even affair, perhaps a draw, and that no one will have a complete walkover.
Superhero comics are a genre of comic books that revolve around characters with extraordinary abilities and powers, dedicated to protecting the innocent and fighting against evil. These comics have captivated audiences for decades, offering a rich and vibrant world of larger-than-life heroes and villains. At the heart of superhero comics are the protagonists, the superheroes themselves. These characters often possess superhuman strength, speed, agility, or other incredible powers, which they employ to defend justice and maintain peace. They typically have colorful costumes, secret identities, and iconic symbols that embody their heroic personas. From the mighty Superman, the symbol of hope, to the brooding Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham City, each superhero brings their own unique abilities and moral code to the table. Superhero comics are renowned for their thrilling storylines, often featuring epic battles between good and evil. These narratives explore themes of heroism, sacrifice, responsibility, and the struggle to balance personal lives with the duty to protect others. Superhero comics also delve into complex character development, providing readers with relatable heroes who face their own internal conflicts and flaws. The settings in superhero comics are diverse, ranging from sprawling metropolises like New York City to fictional cities such as Gotham or Metropolis. These vibrant worlds are populated with a wide array of supporting characters, including love interests, sidekicks, mentors, and archenemies. The villains in superhero comics are often as iconic as the heroes themselves, with diabolical schemes and powers that test the limits of the heroes' abilities. Superhero comics have had a significant impact on popular culture, inspiring movies, television shows, video games, and merchandise. They have captured the imagination of readers of all ages, providing an escape into a world of wonder, heroism, and unlimited possibilities.
World War II, spanning from 1939 to 1945, was one of the most significant and devastating conflicts in human history. It involved the majority of the world's nations, divided into two major opposing alliances: the Allies and the Axis powers. This global conflict witnessed unparalleled scale and ferocity, with battles fought across land, sea, and air. The origins of World War II can be traced back to the unresolved issues and grievances that emerged from the aftermath of World War I. The Treaty of Versailles, signed in 1919, imposed harsh conditions on Germany, leading to widespread economic hardships and political instability. In the 1930s, Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party rose to power in Germany, promoting an expansionist ideology and seeking to regain lost territories.
Echoes of Valor: A Tale from World War II is an epic and emotionally charged narrative that delves into the harrowing events and profound impact of one of the most significant conflicts in human history. Set against the backdrop of World War II, the story explores the experiences of Thomas Evans, a young man whose life is forever transformed by the ravages of war.
In the forgotten realm of Hadea,there was a man name lucius,He was once a noble and kind-hearted individual, but a series of unfortunate events led him down a treacherous path. His insatiable desire for power consumed him, and he made a pact with the devil himself. In a final act of defiance, the Devil Man unleashed a powerful surge of energy, shattering the devil's hold over him. The curse that had plagued him for so long dissipated, leaving him transformed once
Madison had always believed that she would marry Colten. She spent her youth admiring him from afar, dreaming of their future life together. But Colten was always indifferent to her, and when he abandoned her at a time when she needed him most, she finally realized that he never loved her. With renewed resolve and a thirst for revenge, Madison left. Endless possibilities lay ahead, but Colten was no longer part of her plans. Colten rushed to her place in a panic. "Madison, please come back to me. I’ll give you everything!" It was his powerful uncle who answered the door. "She's my woman now."
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"
COALESCENCE OF THE FIVE SERIES BOOK ONE: THE 5-TIME REJECTED GAMMA & THE LYCAN KING BOOK TWO: THE ROGUES WHO WENT ROGUE BOOK THREE: THE INDOMITABLE HUNTRESS & THE HARDENED DUKE *** BOOK ONE: After being rejected by 5 mates, Gamma Lucianne pleaded with the Moon Goddess to spare her from any further mate-bonds. To her dismay, she is being bonded for the sixth time. What’s worse is that her sixth-chance mate is the most powerful creature ruling over all werewolves and Lycans - the Lycan King himself. She is certain, dead certain, that a rejection would come sooner or later, though she hopes for it to be sooner. King Alexandar was ecstatic to meet his bonded mate, and couldn’t thank their Goddess enough for gifting him someone so perfect. However, he soon realizes that this gift is reluctant to accept him, and more than willing to sever their bond. He tries to connect with her but she seems so far away. He is desperate to get intimate with her but she seems reluctant to open up to him. He tries to tell her that he is willing to commit to her for the rest of his life but she doesn’t seem to believe him. He is pleading for a chance: a chance to get to know her; a chance to show her that he’s different; and a chance to love her. But when not-so-subtle crushes, jealous suitors, self-entitled Queen-wannabes, an old flame, a silent protector and a past wedding engagement threaten to jeopardize their relationship, will Lucianne and Xandar still choose to be together? Is their love strong enough to overcome everything and everyone? Or will Lucianne resort to enduring a sixth rejection from the one person she thought she could entrust her heart with?
I'm a Luna. After three years of marriage to Alpha Nathaniel Blackwood, I'm finally pregnant with his pup. But he's unclaimed me for his first love. I'm leaving the pack with this secret, praying he never finds out. Nathaniel Blackwood is a handsome, powerful Alpha. In a world where humans and werewolves coexist, he has it all: a billion-dollar empire, untold power, a massive pack, and, most importantly, the perfect Luna. But the return of his first love shattered our marriage. When he finds out the secret I've been hiding, will he regret rejecting me? Will I ever be able to forgive him? Dive into this gripping serialized novel to find out more-Enjoy the ride!