But we didn't go through; we circumnavigated the barn and picked up the

trail where it issued by way of a low shed roof on to the top of a

fence. The fox thought he had us there, but we fooled him. Then

straight away over two miles of rolling meadow, and awfully hard to

follow, for the confetti was getting sparse. The rule is that it must

be at the most six feet apart, but they were the longest six feet I

ever saw. Finally, after two hours of steady trotting, we tracked

Monsieur Fox into the kitchen of Crystal Spring (that's a farm where

the girls go in bob sleighs and hay wagons for chicken and waffle

suppers) and we found the three foxes placidly eating milk and honey

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and biscuits. They hadn't thought we would get that far; they were

expecting us to stick in the barn window.

Both sides insist that they won. I think we did, don't you? Because

we caught them before they got back to the campus. Anyway, all

nineteen of us settled like locusts over the furniture and clamoured

for honey. There wasn't enough to go round, but Mrs. Crystal Spring

(that's our pet name for her; she's by rights a Johnson) brought up a

jar of strawberry jam and a can of maple syrup--just made last

week--and three loaves of brown bread.

We didn't get back to college till half-past six--half an hour late for

dinner--and we went straight in without dressing, and with perfectly

unimpaired appetites! Then we all cut evening chapel, the state of our

boots being enough of an excuse.

I never told you about examinations. I passed everything with the

utmost ease--I know the secret now, and am never going to fail again.

I shan't be able to graduate with honours though, because of that

beastly Latin prose and geometry Freshman year. But I don't care.

Wot's the hodds so long as you're 'appy? (That's a quotation. I've

been reading the English classics.)

Speaking of classics, have you ever read Hamlet? If you haven't, do it

right off. It's PERFECTLY CORKING. I've been hearing about

Shakespeare all my life, but I had no idea he really wrote so well; I

always suspected him of going largely on his reputation.

I have a beautiful play that I invented a long time ago when I first

learned to read. I put myself to sleep every night by pretending I'm

the person (the most important person) in the book I'm reading at the

moment.

At present I'm Ophelia--and such a sensible Ophelia! I keep Hamlet

amused all the time, and pet him and scold him and make him wrap up his

throat when he has a cold. I've entirely cured him of being

melancholy. The King and Queen are both dead--an accident at sea; no

funeral necessary--so Hamlet and I are ruling in Denmark without any

bother. We have the kingdom working beautifully. He takes care of the

governing, and I look after the charities. I have just founded some

first-class orphan asylums. If you or any of the other Trustees would

like to visit them, I shall be pleased to show you through. I think

you might find a great many helpful suggestions.




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