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rings, and all troop into the dining-room. The usually talkative Seniors are quiet to-night, the food remains un- touched before them. All are glad when they can go to their rooms and deck themselves for the night's ordeal. For awhile their minds are relieved, and all put on their various costumes. One little maid arrays herself in suit of red with bells on her cap, strips of red on her cheeks and ruffle at the wrists. She will be jolly while she may, and dances around her more frightened companion, the sweet, pale Mary, Queen of Scots. What a contrast between the two! Mary, white and shivering, her rich dress falling in folds about her trembling form-and trailing behind her? Oh, no, a page with many a bow of various hues, holds up the trail of his mistress' robe. Walking along the hall are two little maids, fancifully dressed, a daughter of the regiment erect in her soldier garb, and dear little Lord Fauntleroy with his black velvet jacket and auburn curls. And how in the world did "fat ole mammy" and her black partner ever gain admission to such a company? Howe' er it be, there they be-but looking strangely pallid, even under their black skins. As mammy wabbles about in her blue gingham wrapper, her eyes chance to fall on a shy gypsy maid. She gazes at her in awe, when had she seen such a gorgeous red dress and all those handsome bangles? The crowd gathers together and waits in the hall beneath the awful room, waits for the-summons which will mean-who knows? As the hour draws near, fear seizes upon all, even the clown walks restlessly up and down, up and down. No sound breaks the stillness above-nothing to relieve the despair which settles down on their hearts like a pall. Hark! what is that? A hollow voice breaks the silence-what name, oh, what name! Alas, poor black mammy is called! Her eyes roll back until only the whites can be seen, she staggers up the stairway and the door closes upon her. Hush! What is that sound? A shriek, another and another, seeming to break the very roof in twain. Some of those waiting outside burst into hysterical sobbing, the faces of others blanch still more. Strange, , . unearthly noises come from within. Then, all is quiet as the grave. For what seems hours to the tortured company, this silence reigns. At last, the door opens and another fearing one takes a solemn farewell of her friends. The strange sounds are repeated with variations. Finally, "mammy's ole man" must follow mammy. But, at the very threshold of the place of blackness, the "ole man's" nerves give way, deep sobs shake his sturdy form and tears make little rivulets adown his shrunken cheeks. But he is cruelly dragged in, the door slams behind him and only his pleas for mercy reach the ears of his friends. And so at last the door of fate has shut upon the last one, and out upon the night comes the glad "ba-ba-a!" of the long suffering goat, and the funeral hymn of the initiated. And, in the early morning hours, the disheveled Seniors creep to their rooms, leaving behind them a well cleared table. * * * * * * * * * * * * * *. * 166