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quantities, and to add to the general gaiety of the scene, a few loudly dressed Parisians
were already seated at some of the tables, talking, laughing, and gesticulating in the
inimitable French way.

Then the Menu began! First, of course, Hors d’oeuvres ‘‘Orchestre & la Sousa.”
Next an Entrée. A stately young man came in, dressed in the very latest fashion. It
was whispered about that he was an English duke! The course following ‘‘Ecrevisse a la
Musique,’’ was a delicate tribute to our distinguished guests; a life-like and beautiful red
crab escorted a plump, brown beaver to a seat of honor and then, contrary to the usual
customs of crabs, lifted up its voice and sang a highly eulogistic ditty to the fat little animal.
The R6éti, now, was something really substantial. Eight entirely fascinating young per-
sons tripped a most dainty and graceful ballet. This was about to be applauded with
much enthusiasm, when a horrible commotion occurred, Two nefarious individuals had
placed a bomb! under the Duke’s chair. Fortunately the fuse was still sputtering and a
trusty waiter stamped it out. After this exciting interlude, attention was again centered
on the Menu. What could ‘‘créme de la creme 4 1’Espagne” be? But there was not long
to wait. A bewitching Spanish girl charmed us all with her graceful national dance.
The audience had scarcely finished applauding when softly the back door opened, and the
very incarnation of spring came in, singing a simple little song, and throwing bunches of
pansies from her over-laden basket to the Juniors. After this incursion into sentiment,
the audience was all the more ready for a little fun. ‘‘Pierre and Pierrot,’’ two white-clad
clowns, got off a number of time-honored jests, Next, a little French chorus girl sang a
song about an ill-brought-up clock ‘“‘who had an inclination to be fast.’’ All this time our
English Duke had been casting sheep’s eyes at a pretty little Frenchwoman seated with her
escort at a table near him. Just at this point he mustered up enough courage to walk
over and address her. Madame was pleased, but not so Monsieur. A violent quarrel was
the result. Somehow or other, Monsieur and the Duke were pacified, and sat down at the
table with smiling Madame between them.

Last of all, the grand finale, when all joined in a chorus of praise and love for 1904.

Lights out in the café, the opening and the closing are both over, and the gym is again
the prosaic old place we all know it to be. Goodbye to old Paris, and goodbye, alas! to
our Juniors who left us two years ago, but never goodbye to our loving memories of them
and of their kindness to their Freshmen, for which the ‘‘Café des Frais-Hommes’’ was all
too slight a return.

ETHEL LE Roy DE KovEN.

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