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. 
                       I remain, sir,
                           Yours most graciously,
                               Ophelia,
                                   Queen of Denmark.

24th March,
maybe the 25th
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

I don’t believe I can be going to Heaven—­I am getting such a lot of good things here; it wouldn’t be fair to get them hereafter too.  Listen to what has happened.

Jerusha Abbott has won the short-story contest (a twenty-five dollar prize) that the Monthly holds every year.  And she’s a Sophomore!  The contestants are mostly Seniors.  When I saw my name posted, I couldn’t quite believe it was true.  Maybe I am going to be an author after all.  I wish Mrs. Lippett hadn’t given me such a silly name—­ it sounds like an author-ess, doesn’t it?