And so the conversation flowed on until they walked past Merion. Mr.
Haddock’s niece propelled the family rather quickly by the Hall, for she was afraid
her uncle would want to go through it, and she thought the pictures were a little
naked, even for one who had gone through the Louvre.

So she called their attention tothe gymnasium.
“This is the gymnasium,”’ she said.
“Look, Will, this is the gymnasium,” said Mrs. Haddock to Mr. Haddock.

“It would be a good-looking building if it didn’t have that red rag hanging
from the roof,’ commented little Mildred, pointing to ’25’s crimson banner of
flame. But again her remark was ignored.

“And now I want you to come to my room, and have our college drink—mug-
said Mr. Haddock’s niece gaily.

“How nice!”’ said Mrs. Haddock, and even little Mildred showed interest.
So the quartet wended its way through dark corridors, decorated with fire-pails
and scuttling kimona’d figures, until they came to the scene of the entertainment.

This was a typical Bryn Mawr room. A bright fire, which cost $1 a day, and
which Mr. Haddock’s niece had ordered from the housekeeper before ten that
morning, blazed in the hearth. Above this, the banners of Haverford and Bryn
Mawr were crossed lovingly. On the wall hung boxing-gloves, snow-shoes, moose-
heads and other boudoir accessories, and ranged neatly on the table were all the
College News’es from three years back, with a copy of the Lantern, (also from three
years back.) Above the window-seat hung a red lantern, the glass of which was
broken, because three years back, Mr. Haddock’s niece had been in choir, and before
Christmas the choir had sung Christmas carols at the Faculty, and Mr. Haddock’s
niece had dropped her lantern, because she never had been strong after the scarlet
fever when she was five years old. So that is why the glass of her lantern
was broken.

“What are those round things with the different colored rags tied on them?”
asked little Mildred.

“Whoops, my dear!’ said Mr. Haddock, laughing very heartily.

“Sit down,” said Mr. Haddock’s niece, bustling about, and preparing to open
a can of cow with the fire-axe. Soon she was mixing the muggle.

“My, that stuff looks terrible!’ said little Mildred, watching the performance.
Mr. Haddock wanted to reprove his daughter, but his conscience would not permit
him, for indeed the stuff did look terrible.

Then little Mildred tasted the brew, and looked disappointed.

“Don’t let her fool you, Daddy,” she whispered. ‘‘It’s only cocoa—and not
even good cocoa at that!”

So the Haddock family balanced their cups in one hand, and Mr. Haddock’s
niece plied them with butter-thins and olivenaise, and looked like a virgin martyr,
and all were very uncomfortable indeed.

Then Mr. Haddock’s niece looked even more like a virgin martyr, and broached
the subject of the Endowment Fund, and Mr. Haddock said of course he’d be glad
to donate, being a good member of the Kiwanis Club, and interested in all kinds of
social uplift work, and so he wrote out a very comfortable check indeed.

”

gle,

7S