This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Neither books, papers nor pencils were to be seen in the confused mass of articles, piled high, if not dry, in the rooms of the pupils of Glenwood Hall, who were now packing up to leave the boarding school for the Christmas holidays. "Going home is so very different from leaving home," remarked Dorothy Dale, as she plunged a knot of unfolded ribbons into the tray of her trunk. "I'm always ashamed to face my things when I unpack."

"There is one thing perfectly delightful about boarding schools," declared Tavia, "when the term closes we can go away, and leave it in another world. Now, at Dalton, we would have to see the old schoolhouse every time we went to Daly's for a pound of butter, a loaf of bread-and oh, yes I almost forgot Mom said we could get some bologna. Whew Don't your mouth water, Dorothy? We always did get good bologna at Daly's "

"And you are quite sure, daddy, I am not dreaming? That I am sitting right here with my arms around your neck, and you have just told me it is all perfectly true?" And, to make still more certain that the whole matter was one of unquestionable reality, the girl gave her parent such a flesh and blood hug that a physical answer came to her question in the shape of a protest from the very wideawake man.

"She very probably will miss her train, we will miss her at the station, she will take a ride up with old Bill Mason, stay talking to him until dinner is too cold to wait any longer; then-then-well, she may steal in through a window and give you a midnight scare, just for a joke. That's my recollection of Miss Tavia."

"Oh, my " exclaimed one girl. "Oh, mine " amended another. "Oh, ours " called out a third. Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood. The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some of them "sort of" lapped-over on the others. "Dorothy Dale " gasped one particularly sensitive member of the party, "we thought when you vouched for this affair that it would turn out all right " "But it hasn't turned out anything yet," replied Dorothy, "although we all came pretty near it-that time."

The day of days had come at last: Dorothy would be the Daughter of the Regiment. "Lucky you don't have to curl your hair, Doro, for the fog is like rain, and that's the worst kind for made curls," said Tavia. "Oh, I do hope it is not going to rain " "No, it surely won't. But come, don't let's be late." "There's heaps of time, Tavia. Oh, just see Briggs' new flag Isn't it glorious?" cried Dorothy Dale.

"Say, girls, isn't this the best thing ever?" Cora Kimball, the girl whose hand was on the wheel of the motor car as it sped swiftly along a sun-flecked country road, put the words in the form of a question, but they were really an exclamation drawn from her by sheer delight in living. She was gloriously indifferent as to an answer, but the answer came just the same from the two pretty girls who occupied the seat behind her.

"Now you've got it, what are you going to do with it?" asked Jack Kimball, with a most significant smile at his sister Cora. "Do with it?" repeated the girl, looking at her questioner in surprise; then she added, with a fine attempt at sarcasm: "Why, I'm going to have Jim break it up for kindling wood. It will make such a lovely blaze on the library hearth. I have always loved blazing autos."

Four girls sat on four chairs, in four different corners of the room. They sat on the chairs because they were really too tired to stand longer, and the reason for the occupancy of the corners of the apartment was self-evident. There was no other available space. For the center of the chamber was littered to overflowing with trunks, suitcases and valises, in various stages of being packed, and from them overflowed a variety of garments and other accessories of a journey.