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 Literature. Miss Curtis simply couldn't understand it. "The strangest thing, Mr. Bevans," she said. "All fifteen of the seniors elected it this term—a thing that never happened even when your dear aunt was giving it. Miss Simmons was so flattered. She regarded it naturally enough as a tribute to her. And now all of them—all but one, at least—want to drop it. We can't understand it."

"Why do they want to drop it?"

"All for different reasons, and they seem such good reasons, too. One girl finds it conflicts with a course her parents particularly want her to take, and one thinks it is sacrilegious to treat the Bible as if it were literature, and one says— Eleanor Hayes, what are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing," said Miss Hayes, who had just entered the conference, "at the unexpected powers of invention that exist in our senior class."

Miss Curtis was shocked. "You mean you don't believe them?" she asked.

"Of course I don't," said Miss Hayes. "They elected the course because they assumed Mr. Bevans was going to give it, and they are dropping it because they find he isn't."