“A nice hard tack hammer?” came the query again.

“Lovely,” spoke the bewildered girl.

“What did you do with it?” asked the inquisitor.

There was no response.  The Rebel was getting indignant.

“Quick,” demanded a second member “of the firing squad.”

“I threw it away,” faltered sixty-eight.

“What did it hit?”

“A looking-glass.”  This reply came quickly enough.

“And the glass smashed?”

“Yes—­”

“Yes, madam,” prompted a guard.

“Yes, madam,” repeated Shirley with a quiver.

“For which show of temper you are to dust that room every day for a full week, and you may come along now and get your first lesson.”

Shirley straightened up defiantly.

“Go on!  Go on!” begged the little freshman recognized as the pretty Sarah Howland.  “Hurry or they will make it worse.”

The leader marched out and Shirley followed.  Those who had heard the sentence realized the misery it inflicted that the strongest girl should be denied the pump, the lake, tree climbing and even boxing possible or gym work, for a mean little contemptible stunt like dusting Dozia’s room!

Arrived at the room someone stuck something on Shirley’s nose.  She attempted to brush it off but was warned not to do so.  Presently she realized it was a feather, and it seemed to stick in glue on the very point of her nose!

We will spare the reader an account of Shirley’s agony as she vainly tried to “dust” with that feather on her nose.  It was too humiliating, but a freshman should not have shown such temper, and there was still the cracked mirror to accuse her!

Every piece of furniture in the room had to be “dusted,” that is it was brushed with the evil feather, which somehow or other did stay on the candidate’s nose; and if the spectators clapped and laughed Shirley could scarcely blame them, for Dozia Dalton had a foolish lot of truck to be dusted.  More than once she halted, but was promptly prodded on until finally the humiliating task had been accomplished.

“Good girl!” called out a voice from behind a mask and Judith quickly stepped up to take off the duster.  Juniors favor the freshman in spite of such conditions.

“O—­uch!” protested the culprit.  “It is hard!”

“Wait a minute!” cautioned Jane’s voice.  “This will remove it.  Sit down, sixty-eight.”

The unhappy candidate fell into a chair, while someone applied the alcohol cloth and presently the tiny feather fell with its bit of sticky felt into the palm awaiting to catch it.

“Keep your hands down,” insisted someone, for Shirley never knew before the glory of a free nose and she just wanted to pet it a little.  But her tormentors intended to fix up any damage they might have inadvertently perpetrated on the feature, and what coating didn’t come off with the alcohol was quickly covered with Dozia’s powder, until the freshman was made to look even better than nature had intended she should.