he's been a mighty fine
president for three years and I don't think we ought to try experiments
on a new one at this stage in the game."

Then there came wild applause and Margaret presently arose and raised
her hand for silence after the manner of the true speechmaker. She was
much moved by what Molly had said. It was more than she herself would
have been capable of doing, but she intended to speak now if it cracked
her voice till doomsday.

"I can't talk much, girls, on account of hoarseness, but I do want to
say that nobody could represent this class better than Molly Brown, the
most beloved girl not only of the senior class, but of all Wellington. I
hope you will cast your votes for her, girls, and I'm proud to write
down her name as my choice for president."

"Three cheers for Molly and Margaret," cried Judy, always the leader of
the mobs.

Edith, funny and diffident, now rose and addressed the class. She said
she sincerely hoped the class was not looking for handsome, plump
vice-presidents, since the two candidates for that office were neither
the one nor the other; but that if they placed any confidence in a "rag
and a bone and a hank of hair," she felt sure she could fill the bill
just as well as the opposing candidate.

Then Katherine shot up and said she could prove that she weighed a pound
more than her sister, and instead of putting her allowance into books
that autumn, she had laid in a stock of clothes.

It was all very funny and good natured: the most friendly close election
that had ever taken place, some one said, and when the votes were
counted it was found that Margaret had won by one vote and Katherine by
two in excess of the other candidates. Edith and Molly locked arms and
rushed over to congratulate the successful opponents.

"You won it for me, Molly," announced Margaret in a voice husky as much
from emotion as cold. "I doubt if I should have got half a dozen votes
if it hadn't been for your speech and I shall never forget it. It was
what father calls 'a nice thing.'"

"You are the president for me, Margaret," Molly laughed. "I can't see
myself in that chair, not in a thousand years. I should be all wobbly
like a puppet on a throne and I'd probably slide under the table from
fright at the first class meeting."

"You would have adorned it far better than I would, Molly, and
popularity will outweigh speechmaking any day; not but what you didn't
make a fine speech."

But neither Edith n