The Glee Club (weather permitting) sings under the trees; you lie on your window-seat in the twilight and wonder whether, after graduating, you will accept Fame or Fortune.
Proximity to lectures during the annual inundations of December, January, February, March, and April.
DISADVANTAGES
Too much effort involved in taking a bath. What ought to be an innocent pleasure becomes a morbid family pride.
Accessibility to bores who want to kill time while waiting for their next lecture. At first you think this is Popularity.
Enforced quiet after 9 P.M.—at which hour you usually close your books and feel like making a noise.
Enforced activity before 9 A.M.—until which hour you always close your eyes and try not to feel at all.
Necessity of burning a kind of coal that refuses to light (or to stay lighted) for anybody but the janitor, who is never in the basement, where you always firmly believe (in spite of your daily failure) that you are going to find him.
BOARD
Mrs. Muldooney's is by all means the most desirable place. It is crowded, hot, noisy, expensive, and not particularly nourishing. Mrs. Muldooney is a tall, grim, steel-armored old cruiser of sixty-five, with dark-blue hair, who doles out eleven canned cherries to every man at luncheon and sends in word from the kitchen that there aren't any more. She tries to collect twenty-five cents when you have a guest; but as you promptly disown your guest, she is usually foiled. Her place, however, is always crowded with Freshmen, and I ought to go there.