a master mind.
We are going to unfurl the banner of peace and bury the hatchet.

"Since the early days of our class history, war, cruel war, has raged
between the august bodies represented here to-day. On this very field many
moons ago the gallant sophomores advanced upon the, then, very fresh
freshmen, but retreated in wild confusion. It is therefore fitting that
this should be the place chosen for the burial of all grudges, jealousies
and unworthy emotions that formerly rent our breasts."

Here Julia paused to take breath.

The girls cheered wildly.

Julia bowed right and left, her hand over her heart. When the noise had
subsided, she continued. She bewailed junior misdeeds and professed meek
repentance. She dwelt upon the beauty of peace and she begged her hearers
henceforth to live with each other amicably.

It was a capital address, delivered in a mock-serious manner that provoked
mirth, and did more toward establishing general good feeling than any
other method she might have tried. In closing she said:

"The hatchet is the symbol of war. The wheat-sheaf represents our elderly
grudge; but the immortelles are the everlasting flowers of good will that
spring from the planting of these two. We will now listen to a few remarks
from the pride of the sophomore class, Assistant Master of Ceremonies
Grace Harlowe."

Grace attempted to speak, but received an ovation that made her flush and
laughingly put her hands over her ears. When she was finally allowed to
proceed, she delivered an oration as flowery as that of the master of
ceremonies.

When the cries of approbation evoked by Grace's oration had died away, it
was announced that the "renowned elocutionist," Miss Anne Pierson, would
recite a poem appropriate to the occasion. Anne accordingly recited "The
Bridge of Sighs," done over by Julia Crosby, and beginning:

"Take it up gingerly;
Handle with care;
'Tis a relic of sophomore
And junior warfare."

The intense feeling with which Anne rendered this touching effusion,
caused the master of ceremonies to sob audibly and lean so heavily upon
her assistant for support that that dignified person almost pitched head
first into the opening, and was saved from an ignominious tumble by one of
her attendants. This was too much for the others, who, forgetting the
solemnity of their office, shrieked with mirth, in which the spectators
were not slow to join.

"I think we had better wind up the cer