hammocks under the apple trees, and romp to their hearts'
content. Freshmen hurrying by to their Livy exam, turn green with envy,
and sophomores and juniors "cramming" history and logic indoors lean out
of their windows to laugh and applaud, finally come down to watch the
fun for "just a minute," and forget to go back at all.

19-- had its hoop-rolling the very first day of senior week. As Madeline
Ayres said when she proposed it, you couldn't tell what might turn up,
in the way of either fun or weather, for the other days, so it was best
to lose no time. And such a gay and festive hoop-rolling as it was!
First they had a hoop-rolling parade through the campus, and then some
hoop-rolling contests for which the prizes were bunches of daisies,
"presented with acknowledgments to Miss Raymond," Emily Davis explained.
When they were tired of hoops they ran races. When they were out of
breath with running they played "drop the handkerchief" and "London
Bridge." After that they serenaded a few of their favorite faculty. Then
they had a reformed spelling-match, to prove how antiquated their
recently finished education had already become.

Finally they sat down in a big circle on the grass and had "stunts."
Babbie recited "Mary had a little lamb," for possibly the thousandth
time since she had learned to do it early in her junior year. Emily
Davis delivered her famous temperance lecture. Madeline sang her French
songs, Jane Drew did her ever-popular "hen-act," and Nancy Simmons gave
"Home, Sweet Home," as sung into a phonograph by Madame Patti on her
tenth farewell tour.

Most of these accomplishments dated back as far as 19-- itself, and half
the girls who heard them knew them by heart, but they listened to each
one in breathless silence and greeted its conclusion with prolonged and
vigorous applause. It was queer, Alice Waite said, but some way you
never, never got tired of seeing the same old stunts.

When the long list of 19--'s favorites was finally exhausted and Emily
Davis had positively refused to give the temperance lecture for a third
time, the big circle broke up into a multitude of little ones. Bob
Parker and a few other indefatigable spirits went back to skipping rope;
the hammocks filled with exclusive twos and threes; larger coteries sat
on the grass or locked arms and strolled slowly up and down the broad
path that skirted the apple-orchard.

Betty, Helen and Madeline were among the strollers.

"One more of