of young men and women that
gathered in the gymnasium of Weston High School on Saturday morning for
the much-discussed try-out. As it had been strictly enjoined upon the
students of both high schools that unless they desired to take part in
the coming operetta their presence was not requested, nor would it be
permitted, on the momentous occasion, the great room was only
comfortably filled. Weston High School was represented by not more than
twenty-five or thirty ambitious aspirants for fame, but at least a
hundred girls from Sanford High cherished hopes of gaining admission to
the magic cast. After much discussion, Marjorie and her four friends had
decided to make a bold attempt at chorus celebrity, purely for the sake
of seeing what happened. Constance had earnestly urged them to do so,
declaring that she could not sing unless they were present to encourage
her.

"I wonder if all this crowd expects to be chosen," was Jerry Macy's
blunt comment, as the sextette of girls stood grouped at one side of the
room, waiting for the affair to begin. "I hope I'm not asked to sing
alone. Not so much for my own sake. I hate to make other people feel
sad. I practised 'America' and 'Marching through Georgia' last night,
just to see what I could do. One of our maids came rushing into the
living room because she said she wondered who was making all that noise.
Then Hal poked his head in the door and asked if I was hurt. So I quit.
It was time."

Jerry's painful experience as a soloist provoked a burst of laughter
from her friends. It had hardly died away when Professor Harmon, a
stout, little man, with a shock of bushy hair and an expression of being
always on the alert, bustled in. With him came Lawrence Armitage and a
tall, dark-haired young man, a stranger to those present. The professor
trotted to the piano, opened it, held a hurried conference with his
companions, then, stepping forward, ran a searching eye over the
assembled boys and girls. The more ambitious contestants of both sexes
carried music rolls containing the selections they intended to offer,
but the majority of that carefree congregation aspired to nothing higher
than the chorus, looking upon the whole affair as a grand lark.

Professor Harmon proceeded to make a short speech, briefly outlining the
plot of the opera and stating the nature of the try-out. "We shall ask
those who wish to try for principals to step to that side of the room,"
he said, indicating the le