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was the night of the junior dance, an annual affair second only in importance to commencement and a function attended, as Holly Cross used to say, "by all the beauty and chivalry of Haddonfield and all points north, south, east and west." On this occasion all strictly partisan college feelings were laid aside. Forgotten were the grudges engendered by hazings or the rivalries of the field. It was an evening devoted to pleasure, and, on the part of the juniors at least, to seeing that their girl friends and acquaintances danced to their hearts' content.

"Tom," cried Sid as they were dressing in their room, "does this dress suit seem to fit?"

"Well, it might be a little larger across the shoulders," was Tom's answer as he turned around from an attempt to get his tie just right and surveyed his chum.

"That's what I thought. I'm outgrowing it. I'm afraid it will split when I'm dancing, and I'll