er our shell. The Princeton crew shipped their
oars, snatched off their caps, and responded by giving their college
yell, ending with "Old Glo-ree! Old Glo-ree!! Old Glo-ree!!!" yelled
three times with all the strength of their deep lungs.

That little glimpse of America made Bee and me shiver as if with ague,
while Jimmie's chin quivered and he muttered something about "darned
smoke in his eyes."

"Jimmie," I said, excitedly, "they are rowing toward us to let us speak
if we want to."

Jimmie waved his hand to them and they pulled up alongside. We exchanged
enthusiastic "How-do-do's" with them, although we had never seen one of
them before.

"Are you going to row to-morrow?" asked Jimmie.

"If you are we will decorate the house-boat with orange and black," I
said.

Their faces fell.

"We are only the Track Team," said one. "Princeton has no crew, you
know."

"No crew," I cried. "Why not?"

"Well, we haven't any more water than we need to wash in, and we cannot
row on the campus."

"Too many trees," said another.

"No water," I cried, "then won't you ever have a crew?"

"Not until some one gives us a million dollars to dam up a natural
formation that is there and turn the river into it," said one.

"I'd give it to you in a minute, if I had it, the way I feel now," said
Jimmie.

"Well, don't we send crews over here to row?" asked Bee.

"Cornell sent one, but they were beaten," said the Captain with a grin.

"But you wouldn't be beaten," said Bee, decidedly, with her eye on the
Captain.

"Come to dinner, all of you, to-morrow night," I said, genially.

Mrs. Jimmie looked frightened, but Bee and Jimmie so heartily seconded
my generosity with Jimmie's boat that she resigned herself.

"Wear your sweaters," commanded Bee.

"To dinner?" they said.

"Certainly!" said Bee, decidedly. "That's the only way people will know
we are in it. We'll wear shirt-waists to keep you in countenance."

They accepted with alacrity and we parted with mutual esteem.

"I wonder what their names are," said Mrs. Jimmie, reproachfully.

"And they don't know our boat," I added.

"Hi, there!" Jimmie shouted back, "that's our boat yonder--the _Lulu_."

And with that they all struck up "Lu, Lu, How I love my Lu," at which
Bee blushed most unnecessarily, I thought, and murmured:

"How well a handsome athlete looks with bare arms."

"And bare legs," added Jimmie, genially.

We found so much to do on the house-boat, and