ur_ tender mercies, thank you!" shuddered
Ingred. "You'd soon bring the machine down with a crash, and smash us to
smithereens."

"Indeed I shouldn't! I'd go sailing about like a bird!"

And Nora, suiting action to words, stood on her bed fluttering her arms,
till Verity wickedly gave her a push behind, and sent her springing with
more force than grace to the floor.

"You Jumbo! You make the room shake!" exclaimed Ingred. "If that's how
you're going to land you'll dig a hole in the ground like a bomb! Do
move out, and let me get to my drawer! You're growing too big for this
bedroom!"

"Nobody's looked at my new hair ribbons yet!" interposed Fil's plaintive
voice. "See, I've got six! Aren't they beauties! Pale pink, pale blue,
Saxe blue, navy for my gym. costume, black for a useful one, and olive
green to go with my velveteen Sunday dress. Don't you think they're
nice?"

"Ripping!" agreed Nora. "We'll know where to go when we want to borrow.
There, don't look so scared, Baby! I've chopped my hair so short I
couldn't wear a ribbon if I tried! It would be off in three cracks!
Stick them back in their box, and don't tempt me! They're not in my
line! I'm going in for uniform. _You_'re the sort who wears chiffons and
laces and all the rest of it, but you'll see _me_ in gilt buttons before
I have done, with wings on them, I hope! I may be the first to fly to
Mars! Who knows? You shall all have my photo beforehand just in case!"

Everybody at the College, and particularly at the Hostel, agreed that
the first few weeks of the new term were trying. After the interval of
the holidays, the yoke of homework seemed doubly heavy, and undoubtedly
the prep. was stiffer than ever. Only certain hours were set apart for
study during the evenings at the hostel, and any girl who could not
accomplish her lessons in that time had to finish them as best she could
in odd minutes during the day, or even in bed in the mornings if she
happened to wake sufficiently early. Fil, who generally succeeded in
mastering about half her preparation and no more, railed at fate.

"I'm so unlucky!" she sighed to a sympathetic audience in No. 2. "I knew
the first ten lines of my French poetry beautifully, and I could have
said them if Mademoiselle had asked me, but of course she didn't. She
set me on those wretched irregular verbs, and they always floor me
utterly. As for the 'dictee'--I can't spell in English--let alone
French! It's not the least use fo