r neck 286

Just Patty

I

Reform

"It's a shame!" said Priscilla.

"It's an outrage!" said Conny.

"It's an insult!" said Patty.

"To separate us now after we've been together three years--"

"And it isn't as though we were _awfully_ bad last year. Lots of girls
had more demerits."

"Only our badness was sort of conspicuous," Patty admitted.

"But we were _very_ good the last three weeks," reminded Conny.

"And you should see my new room-mate!" wailed Priscilla.

"She can't be any worse than Irene McCullough."

"She is!--Her father's a missionary, and she was brought up in China.
Her name is Keren-happuch Hersey, after Job's youngest daughter. And
she doesn't think it's funny!"

"Irene," said Conny gloomily, "gained twenty pounds through the summer.
She weighs--"

"But you should see mine!" cried Patty, in exasperation. "Her name is
Mae Mertelle Van Arsdale."

"Keren studies every second; and expects me to walk on tiptoe so she can
concentrate."

"You should hear Mae Mertelle talk! She said her father was a financier,
and wanted to know what mine was. I told her he was a reform judge, and
that he spent his time putting financiers in prison. She says I'm an
impertinent child," Patty grinned feebly.

"How old is she?"

"She's nineteen, and has been proposed to twice."

"Mercy! Whatever made her choose St. Ursula's?"

"Her father and mother ran away and got married when they were
nineteen, and they're afraid she inherited the tendency. So they picked
out a good, strict, church school. Mae doesn't know how she's ever going
to fix her hair without a maid. She's awfully superstitious about
moonstones. She never wears anything but silk stockings and she can't
stand hash. I'll have to teach her how to make a bed. She always crosses
on the White Star Line."

Patty scattered these details at random. The others listened
sympathetically, and added a few of their own troubles.

"Irene weighs a hundred and fifty-nine pounds and six ounces, not
counting her clothes," said Conny. "She brought two trunks _loaded_ with
candy. She has it hidden all over the room. The last sound I hear at
night, is Irene crunching chocolates--and the first sound in the
morning. She never says anything; she simply chews. It's like rooming
with a cow. And I have a sweet collection of neighbors! Kid McCoy's
across the hall, and she makes more noise than half-a-dozen cowboys.
There's a new French girl next door-