was on every one's lips.

Outside the weather was clear and cold, the pond was frozen smooth as
glass. The snow on the hill was packed solid and fit for coasting, but
no one ventured that far away from their books.

The first half of the year was over and the girls knew from past
experience that the rest of the time would hurry by. In one short month
there would be a hint of spring in the air, and commencement would be in
sight.

On this particular afternoon the Senior class were having their
examination in Latin and, to judge by their frowns, they were finding it
difficult.

Betty ruffled her hair every little while and scowled at Miss Hale, who
was correcting papers at her desk. She had answered all the questions
she could and done all the prose work. All that was left was a
translation of Virgil. Betty stared at the unfamiliar text, and wondered
where it had come from. "I don't believe it's Virgil," she said to
herself. "If it is it's a part we haven't had." Then a few words from
the confusing paragraphs caught her eye, and she began to remember. Her
brow cleared--a few words were all Betty ever needed to start her on one
of her famous translations. She wrote hurriedly for ten minutes.

"That will do, I guess. The Spartan's sure to say, 'a little too free,
but correct on the whole,' anyway," she thought, ruefully, as she folded
up her paper and put her pen and ink away.

Miss Hale raised her eyebrows in surprise as she handed in the
examination.

"You have finished very early," she said, coldly, and Betty's heart
sank. "Don't you want to look over your paper?"

"Jemima, no!" Betty exclaimed, without thinking. "That is, I beg your
pardon, Miss Hale, but I don't think I do. You see I'd begin to wonder
about all my answers and that would only make things worse," she said,
desperately.

"Very well; you may leave the room," Miss Hale replied, with a resigned
sigh that plunged Betty into the deepest gloom.

She wandered over to Senior Alley. It was deserted. The rest of her
classmates were still in the study hall. She found Angela's history book
on her bed and started to study, but gave it up in despair. They had
covered over half of a thick book that year and there was no way of
knowing what part to re-study.

"I'd be sure to learn all the dates that weren't asked for," she said,
aloud, and closed the book.

She thought of the possible Juniors who might be free. She had passed
Fanny on her way out of the