Molly Brown's Freshman Days   By: Nell Speed (1878-1913)

MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS

By NELL SPEED

WITH FOUR HALF TONE ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN

NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1912, BY HURST & COMPANY

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. WELLINGTON 5

II. THEIR NEIGHBOR 19

III. THE PROFESSOR 32

IV. A BUSY DAY 46

V. THE KENTUCKY SPREAD 62

VI. KNOTTY PROBLEMS 75

VII. AN INCIDENT OF THE COFFEE CUPS 86

VIII. CONCERNING CLUBS, AND A TEA PARTY 99

IX. RUMORS AND MYSTERIES 115

X. JOKES AND CROAKS 130

XI. EXMOOR COLLEGE 140

XII. SUNDAY MORNING BREAKFAST 152

XIII. TRICKERY 164

XIV. AN INSPIRATION 177

XV. PLANNING AND WISHING 188

XVI. THE MCLEAN SUPPER 204

XVII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 216

XVIII. THE FOOTBALL GAME 230

XIX. THREE FRIENDS 241

XX. MISS STEEL 255

XXI. A BACHELOR'S POCKET 266

XXII. CHRISTMAS MID YEARS AND THE WANDERTHIRST 276

XXIII. SOPHOMORES AT LAST 291

ILLUSTRATIONS

"I think my trunk is on this train," she said. Frontispiece

PAGE "I wish you would tell me your receipt for making friends, Molly," exclaimed Nance. 51

"I'm scared to death," she announced. Then she struck a chord and began. 60

It was quite the custom for girls to prepare breakfasts in their rooms. 152

Molly Brown's Freshman Days

CHAPTER I.

WELLINGTON.

"Wellington! Wellington!" called the conductor.

The train drew up at a platform, and as if by magic a stream of girls came pouring out of the pretty stucco station with its sloping red roof and mingled with another stream of girls emptying itself from the coaches. Everywhere appeared girls, leaping from omnibuses; hurrying down the gravel walk from the village; hastening along the University drive; girls on foot; girls on bicycles; girls running, and girls strolling arm in arm.

Few of them wore hats; many of them wore sweaters and short walking skirts of white duck or serge, and across the front of each sweater was embroidered a large "W" in cadet blue, the mystic color of Wellington University.

In the midst of a shouting, gesticulating mob stood Mr. Murphy, baggage master, smiling good naturedly.

"Now, young ladies, one at a time, please. We've brought down all the baggage left over by the 9.45. If your trunk ain't on this train, it'll come on the next. All in good time, please."

A tall girl with auburn hair and deep blue eyes approached the group. There was a kind of awkward grace about her, the grace which was hers by rights and the awkwardness which comes of growing too fast. She wore a shabby brown homespun suit, a shade darker than her hair, and on her head was an old brown felt which had plainly seen service the year before.

But knotted at her neck was a tie of burnt orange silk which seemed to draw attention away from the shiny seams and frayed hem and to cry aloud:

"Look at me. I am the color of a winter sunset. Never mind the other old togs."