ng his head out from the wings.

The crowd laughed and cheered him, then cheered everybody and went home,
singing to Roberta all the way up the hill.

"But you can't blame them," said Betty Wales. "They don't realize how
tired we are, and it's something pretty exciting to have given the play
that Miss Ferris and Mr. Masters both say is the best yet."

"And to have had a perfectly marvelous Shylock," added Kate Denise
warmly.

"And a splendid Portia," put in Roberta.

"Oh, wise young judges, please don't forget to mention Gratiano," said
Katherine Kittredge, and set them all to laughing.

"It's been splendid fun," said Barbara. "Don't you wish we could give it
all over again?"

Then they sat down on the green knolls and the gondolas and Portia's
best carved chairs, and talked and talked, until, as Babbie said, they
all felt so proud of themselves and each other and 19-- that the stage
wouldn't hold them. Whereupon they remembered that to-morrow was
Baccalaureate Sunday and that most of their families had inconsiderately
invited them out to breakfast,--two facts which made it desirable to go
home and to bed as speedily as possible.

It always rains in the morning of Baccalaureate Sunday, but it generally
clears up in time for the service, which is in the afternoon; and even
if it doesn't the graduating class and its friends are willing to make
the best of a bad matter because it would have been so much worse if the
rain had waited for Ivy Day. 19--'s Baccalaureate was showery in an
accommodating fashion that permitted the class to sleep late in the
morning because their families wouldn't want them to go out in the
rain, and cleared off just before and just after the service, so that
they didn't need the carriages that they couldn't possibly have gotten,
no matter how it poured.

And it cleared off for Ivy Day. Helen Adams was up at five o'clock
anxiously inspecting the watery sunshine to see if it would last.

"For they can't plant the ivy in the rain," she thought, "and if they
don't plant it how can they sing the song?"

But the sunshine lasted, Marie planted the ivy,--and the college
gardener carefully replanted it later, "'cause them gals will be that
disapp'inted if it don't live,"--the class sang Helen's song, and the
odes, orations and addresses were all duly delivered.

Then, as Bob flippantly remarked, the fun began. For Mr. Wales had
chartered three big touring cars and invited the "Merry Hearts" t