ishes, the shouting of jests, the singing of songs and the
exchange of greetings. Eugene knew a few of these people outside his own
classes, enough to give him the chance to be sociable and not appear
lonely or out of it.

From the outset it was apparent that she, Ruby, was generally known and
liked. Her costume--a little bold--made her conspicuous. From various
directions there were cries of "Hey! Rube!" which was a familiar
interpretation of her first name, Ruby.

Eugene was surprised at this--it shocked him a little. All sorts of boys
he did not know came and talked to her, exchanging familiar gossip. She
was called away from him a dozen times in as many minutes. He saw her
laughing and chatting at the other end of the hall, surrounded by half a
dozen students. It made him jealous.

As the evening progressed the attitude of each toward the other and all
toward anyone became more and more familiar. When the courses were over,
a space was cleared at one end and a screen of green cloth rigged up in
one corner as a dressing room for _stunts_. Eugene saw one of the
students called with much applause to do an Irish monologue, wearing
green whiskers, which he adjusted in the presence of the crowd. There
was another youth who pretended to have with him an immense roll of
verse--an epic, no less--wound in so tight a manner that it looked as
though it might take all night to read it. The crowd groaned. With
amazing savoir faire he put up one hand for silence, dropped the roll,
holding, of course, to the outer end and began reading. It was not bad
verse, but the amusing part was that it was really short, not more than
twenty lines. The rest of the paper had been covered with scribbling to
deceive the crowd. It secured a round of applause. There was one
second-year man who sang a song--"Down in the Lehigh Valley"--and
another who gave imitations of Temple Boyle and other instructors at
their work of criticising and painting for the benefit of the class.
These were greatly enjoyed. Finally one of the models, after much
calling by the crowd of "Desmond! Desmond!"--her last name--went behind
the green cloth screen and in a few moments reappeared in the short
skirt of a Spanish dancer, with black and silver spangles, and
castanets. Some friendly student had brought a mandolin and "La Paloma"
was danced.

Eugene had little of Ruby's company during all these doings. She was too
much sought after. As the other girl was concluding h