Perhaps they also found the decision too hard, for they chose a dozen of the best, put them to the public vote and counted the shows of hands.

Gwen Hesketh, a member of the Sixth, in a marvelously contrived Chinese costume, was first favorite; little Cyntha West, as a delightful goblin, secured second prize, while the kangaroo, to the satisfaction of the Transition, was awarded the third.

The gold wristlet watch was of course a myth, and the rewards were mere trifles, but the principals had risen to the occasion sufficiently to contribute to the entertainment by providing lemonade between the dances, which in the opinion of the girls was a great addition to the festivities, and made the event seem more like "a real party." Before they separated, the League formed an enormous circle round the room and each clasping her neighbor's hand, all joined in the singing of "Auld Lang Syne": cowboy and Indian princess, Redskin and Scotch lassie, Canadian and Jap roared the familiar chorus, and having thus worked off steam retired to their dormitories and went to bed without breaking their pledge of good behavior.

Rachel, returning from her round of supervision, heaved a sigh of immense relief.
"I was dreading this evening," she confided to Sybil.

"I was so afraid they'd forget their promises and begin that rowdy teasing.