other words, Mrs. Norris, although luckless
in the matter of "adverbs," memory contests, and backgammon tourneys,
has established charades.

It used to be a masquerade party, but because of certain unhappy
circumstances which have recently befallen, it was decided this year to
do without the masks and "Fancy dress." For the last few years people
have been complaining a little of the necessity of getting something new
each year. Mrs. Bates, for example, has exhausted the possibilities of
her husband's summer bath robe. It served excellently at first as a
Roman toga, and the next year it did well enough for Mephistopheles. By
cutting away the parts ravaged by moths it passed as a pirate, but she
despairs of any further alteration. Then, too, it would always be
remembered that a stranger at the last Vernal had in all seriousness
reproved old Professor Narbo, the Chemist, for not taking off his funny
old mask when he already had done so, a mishap none the less enjoyed
because the bringing of a similar charge to one's friends has been an
inevitable jest among the wags for generations. Professor Narbo had been
offended, and great is the offendedness of a Full Professor,
particularly when he is a Heidelberg Ph.D. and parts his hair all the
way down the back. The stranger had been crushed; and, all in all, it
was as mortifying an affair as one could well imagine, and one which in
itself would have been enough to do away with the masks--a
long-discussed possibility--had not worse followed. Edgar Stebbins,
Assistant Professor of History, was unfortunately a little too warmly
devoted to the memory of the grape, or, more specifically, of the corn.
Being mildly mellowed by something more than the memory of it, he found
occasion to embrace a lady who was dressed in his period, the Late
Roman, and to whom he was naturally drawn. The lady promptly screamed
and unmasked; and the situation was not at all improved by its being
discovered that she was the wife of Professor Robbins of the Latin
Department, with which gentleman Mr. Stebbins was not on speaking terms.
Mrs. Robbins, it seemed, had employed the squeaky voice so familiar at
masquerade parties and had thus rendered her disguise complete. Upon her
testimony it was learned that Mr. Stebbins's voice had been so roughened
by drink that his own mother wouldn't have recognized it. Mr. Stebbins
had withdrawn from the party and, at the end of the academic year, from
the college as well,