instance, contemplate the joys of this evening in the arms of Miss Tilden-Brown and anatomy.”
“What!” yelled Polly. “A lecture tonight. Oh, that’s too much. I’m going to cut,” she announced.
There was silence for a full minute. They had reached Polly’s room by now. Then Lois said very solemnly:
“I’ve never cut before, but if you’re determined to do it, I’ll go with you.”
“So will I,” echoed Betty, springing up from the window seat. “I’d brave anything—lions, Cæsar’s ghost, or the whale that swallowed Jonah—rather than listen to that lecture. Besides, I couldn’t desert you, Polly. Where will we go?”
“Coasting, of course,” Polly answered. “There’s a gorgeous moon.”
“We will be caught,” remarked Lois, “but then we’re all willing to face the consequences.”
That evening at 8:15 when the girls were all seated in Assembly Hall and Miss Tilden-Brown was expatiating on the evil results of tight lacing, three figures, standing on top of the hill, were silhouetted against the sky.
The moon was there, as Polly had predicted, making the snow sparkle with its blue-white rays. The silence was broken only by the crunch, crunch of the snow, as the three girls pulled their sleds into place.
“You go first, Polly,” said Bet. “It’s your