ad been looped back and made the best sort of
foundation for a green canopy over their heads. Ten of the prettiest
sophomores acted as ushers, and four popular and much envied seniors
presided at the frappe bowls in the four corners of the room.

"There's not much excitement about a manless dance, but it's a
fascinating thing to watch," said Eleanor to her partner, as they stood
in the running-track looking down at the dancers.

"I'm afraid you're blase, Miss Watson," returned the sophomore. "Only
seniors are allowed to dislike girl dances."

Eleanor laughed. "Well, I seem to be the only heretic present," she
said. "They're certainly having a good time down there."

They certainly were. The novelty of the occasion appealed to the
freshmen, and the more sophisticated sophomores were bound to make a
reputation as gallant beaux. So although only half the freshman could
dance at once and even then the floor was dreadfully crowded, and in
spite of the fact that the only refreshment was the rather watery frappe
which gave out early in the evening, 190-'s reception to 190- was voted
a great success.

At nine o'clock the sophomore ushers began arranging the couples in a
long line leading to the grind table, and Betty knew that her hour had
come. The orchestra played a march, and as the girls walked past the
table the sophomore officers presented each freshman with a small
booklet bound in the freshman green, on the front cover of which, in
letters of sophomore scarlet, was the cryptic legend: "Puzzle--name the
girl." This was explained, however, by the inside, where appeared a
small and rather cloudy blue-print, showing the back view of a girl in
shirt-waist and short skirt, with a pile of books under her arm, and the
inevitable "tam" on her head. On the opposite page was a facsimile
telegraph blank, filled out to the registrar,

"Please meet my dear young daughter, who will arrive on Thursday by the
6:15, and oblige,

"Thomas ----."

Everybody laughed, pushed her neighbors around for a back view, and
asked the sophomores if the telegram had truly been sent, and if this
was the real girl's picture. So no one noticed Betty's blushes except
Mary Brooks, upon whom she vowed eternal vengeance. For she remembered
how one afternoon the week before, she and Mary had started from the
house together, and Mary, who said she was taking her camera down-town
for a new film, ha