PRICE ! 5 CENTS THE P BUSHING COMPANY SHOEMAKER'S BEST SELECTIONS For Redwdin^s and Recit&.tions Nos. I to 27 Now Issued Paper Binding, each oumbere, ^^^ o • 30 ceots Cloth •• • •• • . 50 cenU Teachers, Readers, Students, and all persons who have had occasion to use books of this kind, concede this to be the best series of speakers published. The different numbers are compiled by leading elocution- ists of the country, who have exceptional facilities for securing- selections, and whose judgment as to their merits is invaluable. No trouble or expense ip spared to obtain the very best readings and recitatiohs, and much material is used by special arrangement with other publishers, thus securing the best selections from such American authors as Longfellow, Holmes, Whittier, Lowell, Emerson, Alice and Phoebe Gary, Mrs. Stowe, and many others. The foremost Eng- lish authors are also represented, as well as the leading French and German writers. This series was formerly called "The Elocution- ist's Annual," the first seventeen numbers being pub- lished under that title? While the prirnar}* purpose of these books is to supply the wants o'f 'the public reader and elocution- ist, nowhere else can be found such an attractive col- lection of interesting short stories for home reading. Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, or mailed upon receipt of price. The Penn Publishing Company 226 S. nth Street, Philadelphia The Girl and the Undergraduate A Comedy in One Act BY GRACE COOKE STRONG PHILADELPHIA THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 1912 ^r T^4 COPYEIGHT 1912 BY ThE PeNN PUBLISHING CoMPANY T^!PS6-007i6C The Girl and the Undergraduate The Girl and the Undergraduate CHARACTERS Horace Latham professor of mathematics. Guy Montgomery Watts . . . professor of literature. Jack Stan dish a Junior. Ted Latham a freshman. Harold Gray the ^^undergraduate.'' Mrs. Flora Darcy a fascinating widozv. Sylvia Latham the ''girl.'' Several students (fnay be omitted^. Time. — Late spring of last year. Time of Playing. — Thirty-five minutes. STORY OF THE PLAY Harold Gray, a popular junior, is in love with Sylvia, daughter of Professor Latham. The professor has threatened that if his lively son, Ted, a freshman, does not spend the afternoon studying for an examination he will make him leave college. Ted has planned to go canoeing with Mrs. Darcy, a fascinating young widow. Harold saves Ted by going with Mrs. Darcy himself. Sylvia thought Harold would take her. She thinks Professor Watts has proposed to her, and in a fit of jealousy tells Mrs. Darcy she has accepted him. But Watts had only been asking her to help him with a new book. Sylvia is mortified. Mrs. Darcy tries to tell her news, but Harold steps into the breach. " I am the man she's engaged to." Harold and Sylvia. *' I said it only to help you." Sylvia confesses. " There was never any one but you." COSTUMES, ETC. Professor Latham. About fifty. Wears glasses, but need not be too severely intellectual in appearance or very formal in dress. He has a nervous, decided manner. Professor Watts. About thirty. Pale, slender, very intellectual. Wears dark suit and glasses. Standish, Gray and Ted. All wear flannels or other costume suitable for boating. Ted is about nineteen, the others a few years older. Mrs. Dakcy. About twenty five. Very dashing and assured in manner. She wears a handsome afternoon spring costume with wide hat, gloves, etc. Sylvia. About twenty-one. She wears a pretty spring house dress. She may put on hat, if she wishes, at her first exit, still wearing it at her next entrance. Students. These characters are not positively necessary to the play and may be omitted if desired. They may dress in any outdoor spring costume, with college caps, sweaters, etc. PROPERTIES fKUFKKTlKS Books, embroidery materials, folded papers, canoe paddles, tennis rackets, parasol, watch. ©CID 31839 7j *a i The Girl and the Undergraduate SCENE. — Hall or livhig-room in Professor Latham's house on the campus of FairbrigJit College. Door r. leads to veranda. Door L. leads to other rooms of the house. A low table doivu l., with books on it, and a chair each side of it. Sofado7v?i'R. Other furnishings ''to suit taste. There should be several canoe paddles and tennis rackets in sight. Time, late spring of last year. {As the curtain rises Sylvia Latham, iii a light summer gown, is sitting left of table with her embroidery ; Ted Latham is lounging on a sofa, \\. ; Professor Watts, right of table, is reading aloud from £?nersofi's ^^ Essay on Manners.''') Prof. VV. (reading). "*I overheard Jove, one day,' said Silenus, 'talking of destroying the eartli ; he said it had failed ; they were all rogues and vixens, who went from bad to worse, as fast as the days succeeded each other. Minerva said she hoped not ; they were only ridiculous little creatures, with this odd circumstance, that they had a blur, or indeterminate aspect, seen far or seen near; if you called tliem bad they would appear so; if you called them good they would appear so ; and there was no one person or action among them, which would not puzzle her owl, much more all Olympus, to know whether it was funda- mentally bad or good.' " (Throws down book.) There, Miss Latham, is a concrete illustration of the point in favor of which I am always arguing, namely, the debt that mod- ern literature owes to classic mythology. Even the great Emerson could find no more fitting climax to his admirable essay than this quaint fable. Sylvia {dropping her ivork). That is true; but tell me, Professor Watts, does Minerva mean that we are all so indif- ferently good that we might as well be really bad ? Prof. VV. (gallantly). If Minerva had lived in your 5 6 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE day, Miss Latham, slie would have cited you as the notable exception. Your goodness is as apparent as your beauty. Ted {sitttJig up and yaivning). Say, Professor, .what did the owl have to do about it, anyway ? Sylvia (^petulantly'). I wish you wouldn't ask such foolish questions; I'm sure that you annoy Professor Watts. Prof. VV. {deprecatingly'). My dear Miss Latham Ted {cheerfully). Don't mind her. I know when to take a hint, be it ever so delicately veiled. {^Rlses, walks up c, then turns back.) Read Sylvia some more about manners, Professor ; she needs it. (^Exit, R., whistling.) Prof. W. {laughing artificially as he moves 7iearer Sylvia). A bright boy, your brother, Miss Latham; but now that we are really alone, I should like to talk with you upon a subject much nearer my heart than mythology — in fact, a subject that is engrossing my mind to the exclusion of all else. 1 Sylvia {drawing away). Piofessor, why — I Prof. W. {leaning over table, eagerly). Don't say that I may not speak. During the past months, you cannot have failed to observe the esteem with which I regard you, the respect in which I hold your intellectual endowments. You see the marked congeniality of our tastes ; you realize the pleasure we both experience from the society of each other Sylvia {rising in confusion). Professor Watts, I never dreamed Prof. W. {rising a?td coming very near to her). The modesty that will not allow you to see your own superiority is one of your greatest charms ; but now I can no longer keep from you my purpose, which needs only your consent to make me the happiest of men. I {Enter Harold Gray and Jack Standish, r.) Standlsh. Oh, I hope we're not intruding ? Ted told us to walk right in. Sylvia {70/10 is relieved to see them). Oh, no; come in. Professor Watts was good enough to read to me, but it's really too good a day to be indoors. Prof. W. {looking at Sylvia). Why don't we all take a walk, then ? THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE "} Standish. Right you are, Professor. Come along. (^D raws paper from his pocket.) You're just the man I wanted to see. Won't you give me your opinion on this article I've just finished for the " Tribune" ? Prof. W. {in embarrassment'). Why — er — er — certainly — of course — my dear fellow. Standish. We'll take a stroll along by the river, and talk it over. Gray, will you join us ? Gray {sitting doivn by table). No, thanks; I'll chat a while with Sylvia, if she's willing. Standish. All right. Come on, Professor. Good-bye, Sylvia. Prof. W. {to Sylvia). Good-afternoon. I shall see you again very soon, Miss Latham. Sylvia {doubtfully). Oh, yes. Good-bye. {Exit Standish, r., with Prof. W., the latter looking back reluctantly ^ Gray (laughing). Poor old Watts ; always running about at the beck and call of somebody else. {Sits right of table.) Sylvia {sitting down o?i the other side of table). Harold, is it true — what he has been telling me about you — that you've given up football, that you're not to play next fall ? Gray {with emotiofi). Don't, Sylvia, that's a sore subject with me. You know my Dad's a bit old-fashioned; he doesn't believe in modern athletics, and he's begged me Sylvia. But he's never interfered before. Gray (reddening). I know ; but there's another reason. There's somebody else that I want to please even nnore than I do my poor old Dad. SvLviA {leaning across the table). Do I understand, Harold Gray, that you have given up football — your pas- sion — just because of what I said ? {Her hand lies on the table before her.) Gray {taking her hand). I know you hate football; you think it barbarous, cruel. Didn't I hear you say that you could never love a man who cared only for brute sports, who had no intellectual ? Sylvia. Yes, yes, I said it. 8 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE Gray {rising a?id leaning over her chair). All right; I've made my clioice. Hereafter it's yours truly for the intellectual. I'll show you what 1 can do, and I'B drive poor Watts clear off the field. Sylvia {loo ki fig zip at him shyly). You're so splendid, Harold. 1 believe in you, and I thank you — for what you've done for my sake, and 1 thank you for what you've done for Ted. You helped him so cleverly out of that scrape — about — about the broken glass, and you kept father from knowing it. Father's so irascible, and is always threaten- ing to take Ted out of college. 1 want so much to have Ted finish his course. Gkay. He's going to do it, Sylvia. I'll stand back of him. Sylvia. You're so good. {Noise without.) Some one is coming. Gray. Say, this is no place for us on a day like this. My canoe is waiting. Will you come out on the river, and under the blue sky, where there's no one else to listen ? I want to tell you something, Sylvia — something that's only for you. Will you come ? SyuwiPl {eagerly). Yes Oh, I forgot. Father's aunt is coming this afternoon, and I'm scheduled to meet her at the station. It's most time. Gray. That's tough. Well, then, this evening? {Enter Professor 1-atham, l.) Sylvia. Yes. What is it, father ? Gray. Good-afternoon, Professor. Prof. L. How do you do. Gray ? Sylvia, the carriage is waiting for you to drive down for your aunt. Sylvia. Oh, very well; I'll hurry. Good-bye, Harold. (Exit, R.) Gray {^vatching her at door r.). Good-bye. Prof. L. {sitting down right of tabic). Gray, have you seen anything of my son, Theodore, this afternoon? Gray. I haven't seen Ted to-day, Professor Latham. Prof. L. I'll tell you in confidence, Harold, that the boy is giving me a great deal of trouble. He is outrageously neglecting his studies, and is idling away his time with that frivolous woman, Mrs, Darcy, whom we all thoroughly detest. THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE 9 Gray. I'm sorry, Professor. Prof. L. (^bringing his fist down on the table). Well, Pm through with hiiii. To-day ends everything as far as he is concerned. Gray (Jn alarm). What do you mean ? [Sits on sofa, r.) Prof. L. I mean that my patience is exhausted. To- morrow Ted begins his examinations, and 1 have ordered him to remain at home this afternoon and study — something he has not done for two months. If I hear of his being in the company of Mrs. Darcy, or of leaving the house this afternoon on any pretext, to-morrow he shall leave college and shift for himself. Gray. Does he realize the penalty ? Prof. L. I have merely told him to remain at home. I shall trust you not to inform him of my intentions, and not to tell his sister, either. She is always trying to shield him. {Rises.) I can depend on you? Gray. Certainly, Professor; but Pm sorry for Ted. Prof. L. He isn't sorry for himself. And now will you excuse me ? I am preparing my examination questions. Good-day, sir. {Exit, L.) {Enter Ted, r.) Ted {waving his hand to his father's retreating figure). By Jove, that was a narrow escape 1 Pve been dodging Dad all day. {Picks up paddle.) Gray. Where are you bound ? Ted {turnins[ back r.). Canoeing with the adorable Mrs. Darcy. Think Pm going to miss being on the river a day like this ? Gray {putting his hand on Ted's arm). Say, Ted, exams begin to-morrow; wliy don't you stay at home and plug a little ? Ted (/;/ genuine surprise). Say, cut it out. What is it to you ? Gray. More than you think. Ted {grinfiing). Oh, I see; you're jealous. You want Flora Darcy yourself, so all this interest in my mental welfare 10 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE Gray {sternly). That's enough. Ted {a little awed). Excuse me. I didn't mean that, Gray, honest. Say, I'm going up-stairs for a cap. , If you see Flora — Mrs. Darcy, tell her I'll be here in a jiff. So- long. {Exit, L., hastily.') Gray (laughing in spite of himself). The impudent little pup ! But 1 must prevent his going. His father never goes back on his word. {Moves to door r., as though going.) Hello! Here's Mrs. Darcy. {Struck by an idea.) That's it! It's the only way. I'll do it. (Calls off r.) Oh, Mrs. Darcy ! By Jove, she's coming in ! (Enter Mrs. Flora Darcy, r.) Oh, I didn't intend to give you the trouble to come in, Mrs, Darcy. Mrs. D. Oh, I was coming in, anyway, to see Sylvia for a minute. And then Ted and I were going canoeing. How do you do, Mr. Gray ? (Puts out her hand.) Gray (shaking hands'). How do you do? I'm afraid Ted isn't to be depended on, Mrs. Darcy. Mrs. D. Why, what do you mean ? Gray (glancing l., nervously). Why, he left here on an errand some time ago, and I don't believe he's going to get back in time to go with you. Mrs. D. Oh, how provoking ! Gray. But — er, my own canoe is waiting — I was just on my way to the river. Won't you come with me, Mrs. Darcy ? Mrs. D. But suppose Ted does get back ? I half prom- ised Gray {interruptinsC). Oh, we never need keep promises with a Freshman. Come on. I'm lonesome to-day. Have pity on me. (Moves r. ) Mrs. D. (smiling archly as she follows). Well, since you put it that way. At least I'll feel safer with you. One can never be sure just what Ted is going to do next. Gray. Good ! Mrs. D. Wait a moment until I get my parasol. I think I left it on Mrs. Thurston's veranda. Gray. I'll meet you at the landing, Mrs. Darcy. Mrs. D. All right ; I won't be long. (Exity R.) THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE II Gray {shrugging his shoulders). A whole afternoon of that ! If the youngster wasn't Sylvia's brother, he wouldn't be worth it. {Looks R.) Why, what in the world ? Sylvia is coming ! {Enter Sylvia, r.) It isn't you? Sylvia {gaily). Aunt Deborah didn't come after all j I can go Why, what is the matter? Gray {in confusion). Sylvia, I don't know how to ex- plain, you can't understand. I thought you couldn't Well, I asked Mrs. Darcy Sylvia (icily). Mrs. Darcy? Gray {humbly). You see, 1 thought — I never meant Sylvia {laughing unsteadily). Don't apologize. I as- sure you it doesn't matter in the least. {Crosses l.) Gray. Sylvia, let me explain Sylvia {sternly). Please say no more about it. Good- afternoon. Gray {pleadingly). Sylvia, listen Sylvia. Good-bye. Gray. Very well, good-bye. (^;//^r Ted, l. Gray rushes out r., ivithout speaking to him.) Ted. Say, what's the matter with him? Can't he speak to a fellow ? Sylvia {siueetly). He is in a hurry, dear; he's going canoeing with Mrs. Darcy. Ted. Canoeing with Mrs. Darcy ? Sylvia. Yes. Ted. Who told you so? SYr,viA. He did — just now. Ted (/;/ a rage, looking off r.). By Jove, you're right. Look ! (Sylvia looks.) He's waiting for her on the land- ing. The sneaking, underhanded I hope he drowns. Sylvia (/// horror). Ted ! Ted. I don't care. Mrs. Darcy was going with me. She'd promised {Looks sharply at Sylvia.) Why, sis, I thought Gray never tgok out any girl but you. Sylvia. He doesn't — I mean he does — I don't care, do you hear, Ted Latham ? I don't care what Harold Gray does. {Stamps foot.) I don't care. Ted {angrily). Well, if you don't, I do. I'll teach ihe miserable scamp to leave my sister for anybody. Why, everybody knows he's been crazy about you. 12 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE Sylvia (siitins^ down and picking tip a book). Then every one may forget it. It is very little concern of mine what Mr. Gray does. I'm practically engaged !o — to Professor Watts. Ted. You're joking ! But how will Gray ? Sylvia {pretendifig to read). I forbid you to mention Mr. Gray to me again j I hate him, and I'm not joking. Ted. Well, 1 never — Wattsy for a brother-in-law ! Suffering snakes ! Well, as I can't be happy, I may as well be miserable. Me for the books. {^Exil, \.. Sylvia dnries her face in her hands, and cries silently for a moinent, but dries her eyes as she hears 'J'ed approaching. Enter Ted, L., his arms loaded with books.) You don't look very cheerful, if you are just engaged. Sylvia. I'm crying — just because I'm so happy. Ted. Then forget it. (Ted asstmies a comfortable though nnconventio?ial position on the sofa down r., his books strewn picturesquely about him. He dives desper- ately into one, then tJirows it doivnfcr another. Repeats this several times.) It's no use looking at Trig — I'm hopelessly behind in that. Greek, I might do some- thing {Enter Mrs. D., r.) Mrs. D. Oh, how do you do, Sylvia? Have you seen anything of my parasol? I thought I left it at the I'hurs- tons', but I must have laid it down here this morning. Sylvia {going 7/p l, and picking 7/p parasol). Is this it? {Hands parasol to Mrs. D., with frigid politeness.) Mrs. D. Oh, yes. Thank you so much. Teddy, boy, you'll forgive me for deserting you this afternoon, won't you? Mr. Gray teased so hard, I really couldn't refuse. You don't mind ? Ted {gruffly, tvithout looking up). Go ahead ! I don't care. Mrs. D. How sweet of you. {Puts arm about Syimia.) Sylvia, I do believe you've been crying. I do hope that you don't mind Mr. Gray's inviting me. I'll confess I was surprised myself, for I'd always fancied he was fond of you. Of course, I was mistaken. Sylvia. You certainly were, Mrs. Darcy. THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE 1 3 Mrs. D. Now I'm glad lo hear ihat, for if I thought you were grieving about it, I shouldn't enjoy myself one bit. Jn fact, I shouldn't go. Sylvia {with dignity). Mrs. Darcy, please don't think for a moment that I am in the least concerned as to what Mr. Gray does. You may as well know now as at any time, that I am — engaged — to — to Professor Watts. Mrs. D. {liropping her parasol). Mercy on us! Pro- fessor Watts ! Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Sylvia. Mrs. Darcy ! Mrs. D. (^picking up parasol^. Why, I mean you are both so well suited, so perfectly congenial. You never could have managed a lively man, Sylvia. (^Kisses her.) I hope you'll be very happy, I'm sure. Sylvia. Thank you. Mus. D. I must hurry, for I've already kept dear ]\Tr. Gray waiting a long time. Good-bye, Sylvia. Don't get brain fever, Teddy. (Exit, R.) Ted (Jn disgust). She'll have that all over town by night. Sylvia (defiantly). Why shouldn't she? Ted. 1 thought you were only saying that because you were mad with Gray. When did Wattsy propose? Sylvia. This — why, don't ask such foolish questions, Ted. Ted. Here he comes now. Syi,via (/■// a panic). Oh, dear, Ted, please go in. I know the professor wants to speak to me alone. (Enter Prof. W., r.) Prof. W. Dear Miss Latham, I had despaired of ever getting back to you. (Stumbles over Ted's books, which he stoops and picks up.) How do you do, Theodore? '1'ed (ignoring Sylvia's furtive signs, 7vith which she is trying to persuade Jwn to leave them). Not very well, Pro- fessor; too constant application to my studies is impairing my health. Prof. W. (laying books on the tabic and sitting doivn). Nevertheless your perseverance augurs well for to-morrow. Ted (reluctantly rising). I hope so. 14 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE Prof. W. {uneasily). I trust that I am not disturbing you. Ted (cheerfully'). Not in the least, Professor. • I was just going up to my room for more books. Sylvia. You can study fully as comfortably on the veranda, Ted. Ted. Thank you for the suggestion. Good-bye, Pro- fessor. {Exit, R.) Prof. W. Pll confess that I am delighted to see such un- mistakable signs of mental awakening in Theodore. 1 am sure it is your influence and example Sylvia. I only trust that he will remain away long enough for us to talk undisturbed. {She stands right of table.) Prof. W. {coming near her). That brings me just to the point, my dear Miss Latham ; still I can hardly find words in which to frame the question that has so long been trembling on my lips. Sylvia {encouragingly). Pm listening. {She nervously picks up a book from the table.) Prof. W. (/// great agitation). Miss Latham, Sylvia, you know me well. You know my ability, my intellectual equipment, furthermore you know my limitations, my de- pendence upon the mental stimulus that you have always given me. Sylvia {nervously). Yes, I know — that is, Pve always tried to be a — an inspiration to you. Professor Watts. {Sits right of table.) Prof. W. You have been ; will you continue to be — for an indefinite period? {He sits o?i sofa r.) Sylvia. 1— I Prof. W. {drmving papers from pocket). I am about to begin a work that has been the dream of my life — the writing of a book, which I shall call "The Pursuit of the Impossi- ble." Miss Sylvia, will you collaborate with me in its preparation ? Sylvia {dropping book with a crash). Collaborate — a book? Oh, that is a joke, Professor Watts. Prof. W. {rising indignantly). A joke ? THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE I5 SvLViA {laughing hysterically). Believe me, I must de- cline (^Rises and looks about wildly.) 1 appreciate the honor — 1 couldn't Prof. VV. You have already done so much ; you've helped — why, are you ill, Miss Latham? {Drops papers.) Sylvia (^grasping hold of table). I feel a trifle faint. Perhaps you had better call my brother, Professor Watts. Prof. \V. [^stepping toivard door r.). Theodore ! Your sister wants you, 'Fheodore ! ( Comes back to Sylvia.) Can I help you? (^Helps her into a chair.) I trust i have not agitated you. My proposal was too abrupt. Sylvia (^faintly). 1 assure you I shall be myself pres- ently. I am often — I mean I always recover when 1 am alone. {Enter Ted, r.) Prof. W. Your sister is ill, Theodore. Perhaps we had better help her to her room. Sylvia. Thank you. 1 think I prefer to remain here. Ted will stay with me. Prof. \V. (^gathering up his papers). Then Til leave you. Don't worry, Miss Latham. Some other time we will talk this matter out. (71? Ted.) I trust 1 have not wearied your sister, Theodore. We've been talking Ted. Oh, no ; Sylvia is very fond of talking to you. Professor. Prof. \V. I hope so, I'm sure. Now, I will leave her with you. Endeavor to calm yourself. Miss Latham. Sylvia. I — I trust your book will be a success, Pro- fessor Watts. Prof. W. Thank you. (Exit, r.) (Sylvia buries her face in her hands.) Ted. Have you and Wattsy quarreled already ? Sylvia {looking up). Ted, there's been a terrible mis- take. I told you I was engaged to Professor AVatts. He had asked — as I supposed Oh, Ted, he only wants me to help him write his miserable book, and I thought he meant — something else. Ted {awkivardly trying to put his arm about her). There, there, never mind. You don't want old Wattsy, anyway. l6 THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE Sylvia. But, Ted, I told Mrs. Darcy. Ted (^whistling). Whew ! That's ba(1. Sylvia {crying). Every one in town knows it. by this time. Ted {starting away). I'll go get Watts, and make him Sylvia {holding on his coat). Don't you dare. — I can never look him or any one else in the face again. Ted. Then we'll have to think. Run up to your room before some one comes in and finds you crying. Trust your Uncle Theodore to find a way through the woods. Sylvia {kissing Ted). Thank you, led. I will. I know I'm a fright. You must think up something ( Exit, L.) Ted. Well, heaven only knows what it will be. {Picks up book and looks at it fiercely.) Prof. L. {enterijtg from l.). Well, well, Ted, I'm glad to find you working. Ted {with a hint of sarcasm). I trust I shall pass my exams with credit, sir. Prof. L. I hope so ; but more depends on this after- noon's work than the examinations. Ted. What do you mean ? Prof. L. Simply that I had made up my mind to take you from college and to put you to work in your uncle's store, if you did not accede to my wishes sufficiently to de- vote this last afternoon to your studies rather than to that — to Mrs. Darcy. I told Gray as much to-day. Ted {rising indignantly). Look here, Dad, did you tell Harold Gray that if I went canoeing with — with Flora this afternoon, you'd make me leave college? Prof. L. I did, and I meant it, too. Ted {sitting down and picking up book). Well, I didn't go- Prof. L. {looking at jvatch). I see that you didn't. Well, I won't longer detain you from your books. Stick to the job, Ted. If you make good, I may reconsider my de- cision about that motor-boat. Ted (/;/ glee). Dad, you're a brick. Prof. L. You'll have to earn it by hard work, though. {Exit, l.) THE GIRL AND THE UNDERGRADUATE I7 Ted {t]iroivin^ book in air). Three clieers for Dad and dear old Gray! (i5"///'