RESHMAN and SOPHOMORE. What's the matter?

SENIOR. Matter? Why, I'm half dead thinking.

SOPHOMORE. (_giggles_) Thinking!

SENIOR. Say, did you ever hear the word Sophomoric? (_severely_)
That's the sort of a joke that was.

FRESHMAN. What were you thinking about?

SENIOR. Trying to get up some new and original kind of a Thanksgiving
party for the school.

SOPHOMORE. You darling! (_embraces her_)

FRESHMAN. We were afraid you had forgotten.

SENIOR. (_rises and joins others_) I wish I could forget for a
while but they made me chairman of the committee so I have to get up
something. If I can't think of anything better we'll have an ordinary
spread and get just what everybody likes.

SOPHOMORE. Grand! Welsh rarebit for me.

FRESHMAN. I want chocolate _eclaires_.

SENIOR. We ought to ask one of the Juniors too, that wouldn't be enough
variety.

SOPHOMORE. Ask Laurine.

SENIOR. Where is she?

FRESHMAN. She told me she was going to study her Chaucer.

SENIOR. She didn't mean it. She never does.

SOPHOMORE. (_going to door and calling_) Laurine, Laurine.

JUNIOR. (_outside_) All right.

SENIOR. Maybe she's thinking up a new class souvenir to go with their
rings and hatpins and pins and banners.

FRESHMAN. Tell her we want to ask her advice, then she'll hurry.

SOPHOMORE. (_calling_) Laurine, how soon are you coming?

JUNIOR. (_beginning before she enters with a Chaucer in her hand_)
"Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote"--I came much more quickly
than I'll ever get that old stuff in my head. (_she throws the book
down_)

SENIOR. Don't you like Chaucer? We just loved him.

JUNIOR. So do all the rest of our class except me. I just can't get him
into my head.

SOPHOMORE. Poor thing! I should hope not.

SENIOR. What would you like to eat at the Thanksgiving spread?

JUNIOR. Eat! Everything you're going to have. (_suspiciously_) This
isn't one of those stupid puns on _Chaucer_ is it?

SOPHOMORE. I should say not.

FRESHMAN. We are helping make out the menu. There's Welsh rarebit and
chocolate _eclaires_ already.

JUNIOR. Have you any angel food?

SOPHOMORE. Oysters!

FRESHMAN. Fudge!

SENIOR. And olives. Quick, give me a pencil so I can write it down.
(_goes to table and writes_)

JUNIOR. Hurry, before the bell rings. That's much more fun to talk about
than Chaucer. I'm glad I didn't live in his day. Imagine being prai