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OMNIPOTENT TRADITION

sationalists and seized the irreverant Nick Graff by the coat collar. Staring at his victim with the familiar upper classman frown of authority the big chap opened his wide jaw in words of rebuke.

"Say Nick," he bellowed, "I believe I told you the other day about that loud tie you're wearing. Freshmen are not allowed to display any color other than green, and under no condition any gaudy hash like that."

"What I wear is my business," popped back Nick defiantly.

Without any further words, the husky sophomore proceeded to remove the unbecoming portion of Graff's adornment. The lively scene soon caught the attention of some other passing collegians, apparently sophomores, who rushed to the field of action. It did not take very long for them to grasp the significance of the struggle, nor did they lose much time in determining a proper remedy for handling the unruly freshman.

"Well," dryly uttered a rather tall member of the group, "I suppose he wants the tub or the showers."

"How about feeding him a little mush?" suggested another."

"He needs a good dose," added a third one, "Why, he has been flirting quite a bit with the co-eds lately. I'd suggest a good old-fashioned paddling. paddling. We've simply got to make these birds comply with rules."

Thereupon three of the men picked up the offender of college tradition and soon were bearing him, stretcher fashion, in the direction of a nearby brick structure, the men's dormitory, which contained the much utilized tubs and cold showers.

Unexpected as it was sudden, Bob, who had previously remained unnoticed in the background, pounced upon the oppressors of his friend. He fought like a wild man, swinging his fists in all directions, as though with the intent of exacting a cruel toll. For the moment this unexpected sally succeeded in breaking the sophomores' hold upon the helpless Nick, who proceeded to make a desperate but futile dash for liberty.

In a few minutes the struggling captives were subdued. One of Bob's captors happened to notice blood on his hands and showed the wound to his fellows.

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"Well, I'll be swiggered," roared a sophomore, "if this freshie, Bob, isn't wearing a high school pin." Then fixing a cruel look on Bob, he growled, "If you don't happen to know it, I'll tell it to you now. The rules of this institution and of every university in the country, for that matter, are now listen-get this- 'No high school pins to be worn by freshmen.' So, it's up to us sophomores to teach you a good lesson."

"But Dick," hinted the man holding Bob's arms, "the kid is a game and a clean fighter. clean fighter. Let's not be too hard on him.

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"Razzberry," roared the husky sophomore with the numeral sweater, who still retained a tenacious grip upon Nick's coat collar, "we've got to show these youths that rules are rules. Lets start for the tub."

Following the advice the second year men picked up their prisoners and carried them as they would a couple of dry goods boxes. Both prisoners were hurried in the direction of the big brick dormitory. Bob felt himself jerked up a never ending stairway. Finally it seemed to Bob that he was at the eighth floor of a skyscraper. Then, apparently he seemed to be rushed down a gloomy hallway.

At last the party deflected its course into a side room. A veil of steam filled the room. The air was hot, damp and muggy, and both Bob and Nick soon had an accurate conception of their location.

Hardly had young Bob gained an idea as to his whereabouts, when a sudden push landed him face downward in some kind of tub of the coldest ice water he had ever sensed. He gave up without a struggle. The water filled his nostrils and his ears. Drowning seemed imminent. Soon a conglomeration of past good and bad deeds would slide past his vision as plain as a motion picture weekly. Bob felt that only a few more bubbles, and then the end of his submarine tragedy would be reached. Yet, after he had blown what seemed a barrel of bubbles, he vaguely experienced himself being brought into contact with fresh air. As consciousness was becoming restored, he sensed a hard tile floor against his feet. The hold upon his body seemed to be released. He could look around him and

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Three nights later Bobby told the story of the whole incident to a pretty little co-ed, as they danced to a dreamy waltz.

"Really, I think it was a mean thing for those big fellows to do," she said in a sympathetic voice.

"Well," replied Bob," it has all been valuable experience for both Nick and me. We have vowed since that incident, that as soon as we become members of the sophomore class we will do all in our power to put an end to the customary restrictions on the freshmen. The sophs are supposed to carry on the dirty work, and if our class initiates the scheme of putting an end to the nonsense, the next sophomore class will follow our example. Such traditions are not sacred."

"Good!" approved the dainty maid, "you have learned how cruel it all it, and I know you will never be so mean to the freshmen when you get to be a sophomore.'

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"Indeed not, I have my opinion of such a savage custom."

Nick Graff and Bob Dixon continued the college course through the remainder of the year without any noteworthy happening. Next year both fellows returned to college full-fledged sophomores.

What a thrilling feeling to be a second year student! How proud were the two boys of their illustrious class. A class spirit, a veneration for the reputation and name of the sophomores filled the hearts of both.

Bob Dixon's high pitch of enthusiasm won for him the election to the presidency of the sophomore class. Nick was right behind his chum with a hearty boost for his class.

At the very first sophomore meeting, a student rose to address the chair. Bob recognized him promptly.

"Fellow sophs," began the indignant speaker, "the freshies this year refuse to recognize the respect which they owe to our sophomore class. They persist in talking back and being sassy to upper classmen. They flirt with the girls, and wear loud neckties and high school pins, and they absolutely will not don the skull cap."

Bob Dixon hit his gavel on the desk. "We must maintain the glorious traditions of the past. Our class has been insulted. We must punish these freshies for their arrogance," he advised. "Does anyone wish to make a motion to that effect?”

Up jumped Nick Graff, "Mr. President," he shouted, "I move that we give 'em all the cold showers!" he shouted.

THE FAREWELL NOTE.
By Helene Searcy

"Enough!" cried Winter, "I am done!
"Today a robin dared to sing,

"The pussy-willows have begun
"To purr as if 'twere nearly Spring!"

So wrathful Winter wrote a note
With scorn in every icy word
And threw it at the rosy throat

Of sleeping Spring, who quickly stirred.

Spring woke and read, then laughing tore That note and tossed it to the sod. Look! What were bits of note before

Are pink-white daisies fresh from God.

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The Bitter Narrative of a Red Cross Ambulance Driver's Disillusions

By Stanley Preston Kimmel

(Fifth Installment)

HAVE just left Charlotte and re

many of them are homesick. One can't

I turned to my room in the hospital. blame them. Many have never been out

How bare it seems after being out in the open again! After the Bois, with the trees overhead and the sunlight peeping through them, this room is like a prison. A few weeks ago it looked good to me but now I am tired of it and want to get away. We met Helen and I had to tell her about B She told me she had lost two brothers in the war. Charlotte had gone to buy cigarettes and did not have to hear about it.

The boulevards are crowded but no one is very gay. The Italians are suffering a great defeat and the Russians have collapsed. A German offensive is looked for on the Western Front any day. It will come with the first signs of spring, I suppose. We hear that the Austrians are compelling the Italian civilians to march in front of the advancing army as a shield. Honor has been left out of modern warfare.

There are many Americans here now. Paris seems to be filled with them. Six months makes a lot of difference in the transportation of troops. They all go about in a joyous way and no one would ever think they are homesick or disheartened. They are not disheartened, but

of their little towns before and the joys of being in France soon wear off and leave nothing but the naked truth.

The French people seem to have the idea that they are loaded down with money and charge them anything they think they can get. Prices have gone up beyond those which we had to pay at first. An old Frenchman told me they were entitled to charge what they wanted as they (France) had bought all supplies, etc., from America and made her rich because of the war, while France had suffered. It sounds like some one trying to clear his conscience.

The women and girls are everywhere. There are five or six of the fair sex to one of the other. The American takes up with them much quicker than the Englishman because the French girls prefer the American. They are always ready to go with him. Some of these girls are very good and kind and do all they can to help cheer the way along. Others are in for all they can get.

What will the army be like when they take them home? They are certain to have a different idea of morality.

I am out of the hospital at last, but will

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I shall never walk from the quarters again, at least not the way I came tonight. The Seine looked like a pool of boiling blood. Several times I thought I had gone mad. I felt an impulse to jump over the huge grey wall and plunge into the water beneath. Then it would be over. Every time I am alone all the misery I have seen and been a part of, comes rushing back to me and my brain takes fire. I would have done the thing tonight had not the car stopped and let off a few passengers near the spot where I was walking. suppose if I should do this, people would call me a coward.

I

P has broken up a chair in order that we may have a little heat in the room. It is raining most every day and night and is very cold. It is impossible to get wood or coal in Paris without a card and money, always money. We could get the card, but it would do us little good for we have no money. We will have to get along some way. The old lady who has charge of the house is a witch and if she finds out P and myself have burned one of her chairs she will throw us out. We owe her money now and she will not let us stay if ever a fuss comes up. If the American does not have the money he is an outcast in the eyes of the French. As long as he can pay three or four times as much for what he buys as the Frenchman, then he is welcome to stay in France and gets the best they have to offer. If the money is not in the hand, the door shuts in his face.

Every evening P— and myself go to the Cafe Rotand and try to keep warm by hovering over a cup of hot coffee. The cafes close at nine-thirty and then we hurry back to the room and get into bed as soon as possible. We have to be out at six in the morning.

This life is easy after what we have had on the front. The fact of it is, we feel like slackers. When one is out there a certain satisfaction comes in knowing

ent.

you are confronting all the dangers and hardships which other men are confronting, but here in the rear it is quite differEven though the men occupied in this work are not able to return to the front for the time being, they feel as though they are not doing as much as they should. The argument that someone must do it, is useless. Sometimes I am glad that I am away from the mess. We have heard that the section is to arrive in Paris most any day and will be sent to Italy.

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Charlotte has gone to England with her mother. As I watched the long train slowly glide out of the station I felt as though my heart was beneath its wheels. I stood motionless until the last car dipped below the hill and was lost. An old man came up and shouted in my ear, pointing to the gate at the same time. I looked about me. Everyone had gone. He mumbled and held out his hand. There was something between the bony fingers but I could not see what. I grasped it and felt the blood trickle down my palm. The thorns had stuck me.

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Many of the women wear veils who are not entitled to them. They suppose people will sympathize and they know it draws the men. Then, too, they fix themselves up very attractive in this black crepe, but their ankles are always covered with silk.

I understand it is the same in England, and America will likely have a touch of the same thing before the war is over.

These women drop the one medal wearer for the two and the two for the three, etc., on down the line from generals to privates. In the cafes the woman with the two medal man snubs the other with only the one.

If a man comes in from the front in good condition and wearing the decora

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