"isn't it great!" exclaimed tavia, shaking out her blue dress, and tying a worn handkerchief over its particular closet hook so that no hump would appear in the soft blue texture. "i never would believe boarding school was such fun. here comes rose-mary with more nicks to introduce. i hear her laughing—hasn't she got the jolliest little giggle—like our brook when it bubbles over."

"i wish, tavia, you would confine your wardrobe to your own half of the closet," dorothy remonstrated, as she took down several articles that had "crossed the line."

"oh, i will, dear, only i was just listening to what those girls were saying. i thought i heard viola's voice. isn't it strange she does not call on us. i told her our room was number nineteen."

"i suppose she's busy, every one appears to be except rose-mary. she doesn't seem to mind whether her trunk is unpacked first day or on christmas," said dorothy, working diligently at her own baggage.

"i would just love to go the rounds with her," declared tavia, "if you did not insist upon going right to work. i would rather have fun now and unpack later."

"but there is no later. we must go to bed at eight thirty, my dear, and we have no time to spare. school will begin to-morrow."

"all the more reason why we should have the fun now," persisted tavia, who was nevertheless getting her clothes on the hooks in short order. "there! i'm all hung up," she declared, banging the closet door furiously, in spite of dorothy's hat box trying to stop it.

"but your hats," dorothy reminded her. "they have got to go on that shelf, and there isn't an inch of room left."

"then i'll just stick the box under the bed," calmly remarked the new girl, making a kick at the unlucky box and following it up to the "goal."

"against the rules," announced dorothy, pointing to a typewritten notice on the door. "read!"

"haven't time. you read them and tell me about them. i'll take the box out if it says so, but if we have to keep things in such angelic order why in the world don't they give us room?"

"room? indeed this is a large room, given us especially, and it is quite a favor to be allowed to room together—only real sisters ever get a double."

"heaven help the singles!" sighed tavia in mock devotion. "but come on, doro,—we are missing all the fun. i did think i heard the mob at our door."

without further leave or license tavia dragged dorothy from her work and closed the door of number nineteen behind her. in the hall they found rose-mary, whom the girls called "cologne," amy brook, nita brant, and lena berg. all were trying to talk at once, each had "the very most delicious vacation" to tell about, and to dorothy it appeared the first requisite for boarding school ways was the coining of absurd and meaningless phrases. tavia fell right into line, and could discount anyone of the crowd. "splendifiorous, glorioutious and scrambunctious," were plainly hard to beat, and no one seemed willing to try. cologne had a way of saying things in a jerky little jump that suggested bumping noses, amy brook fairly strangled with dashes and other unexpected shorts stops, while nita brant "wallowed" in such exclamations as:

"fine and dandy! perfectly sugary! too killingly, dear, for anything!"

it was cologne who declared nita "wallowed" in slang, because the nicks had decided that no ready-made slang should be used at meetings, and nita persisted in ignoring the rule. each new term brought the season's current phrases back in the custody of the sandy-haired nita and now, on the first night, her companions took precious good care to remind her of the transgression.

altogether dorothy found it difficult to keep track of anything like conversation, and was forced to say "yes" and "no" on suspicion. tavia had better luck, edna black (christened ebony ned) took her in charge at once, and the two (ned had already established her reputation as a black sheep), dashed off down the corridor, bursting in on unsuspecting "babes" (newcomers), and managing, somehow or other, to upset half-emptied trunk trays, and do damage generally.

"hello! hello!" came a shout from the first turn or senior row. "come, somebody, and fan me!"

"that's 'dick,'" ned told tavia. "molly richards, but we call her dick. by the way, what shall we call you? what is your full name? the very whole of it?"

"octavia travers! birthday is within the octave of christmas," declared the dalton girl impressively.

"oct or ouch! that sounds too much like auch du lieber augustine, or like a cut finger," studied edna. "better take yours from christmas—chrissy sounds cute."

"yes, especially since i have lately had my hair cut christy—after our friend columbus," agreed tavia, tossing back her new set of tangles. "i was in a railroad accident, you know, and lost my long hair. i had the time of my life getting it cut off properly, in a real barber shop. dorothy's cousins, two of the nicest boys, were with us—dorothy went too. it was such fun."

"all right, it shall be chrissy then," decided edna. "it's funny we always turn a girl's name into a boy's name when we can. let's go and see dick," and at this she dragged tavia out of the corner of the hall where they had taken refuge from a girl who was threatening them for upsetting all her ribbons and laces.

"oh, there you are, ned ebony," greeted molly as the two bolted into her room. "where's everybody. i haven't seen fiddle yet."

"viola green?" asked tavia. "funny i should have thought of that name for her."

"you knew she plays the fiddle adorably."

"no, but i knew she had been named after her grandfather's violin. what a queer notion."

"queer girl, too," remarked molly, "but a power in her way. did she come up yet?"

"on our train," said tavia, too prudent, for once in her life, to tell the whole story.

"she is going to cut the nicks," announced edna. "she told me so first thing. then she slammed her door and no one has caught a glimpse of her since."

tavia was fairly bursting with news at this point, but she had promised dorothy not to interfere with viola in any way and she wisely decided not to start in on such dangerous territory as viola's visit to dalton. so the matter was dropped, and the girls went forth for more fun.

dorothy had met miss higley, mrs. pangborn's assistant. she proved to be a little woman with glasses, the stems going all the way back of her ears. she seemed snappy, dorothy thought, and gave all sorts of orders to the girls while pretending to become acquainted with dorothy.

"the crankiest crank," declared one girl, when the little woman had gone further down the hall with her objections. "but, really, we need a chief of police. don't you think so?"

"isn't mrs. pangborn chief?" asked dorothy.

"oh, she's president of the board of commissioners," replied rose-mary. "miss honorah higley is the chief of all departments."

"and miss crane?" inquired dorothy. "i have met her."

"oh, she's all right," declared the informer. "camille crane is a dear—if the girls do call her feathers."

"i thought all that nick-name business was done in colleges," remarked dorothy. "every one here seems to have two names."

"couldn't possibly get along without them," declared cologne. "i've been cologne since my first day—what have they given you?"

"i haven't heard yet," said dorothy, smiling. "but i do hope they won't 'dot' me. i hate dots."

"then make it dashes or specks, but you must not be specks. we have one already."

"glad of it," returned dorothy. "i don't like specks either."

"i guess we will make it 'd. d.' that's good, and means a whole lot of things. there," declared cologne. "i've had the honor of being your sponsor. now you must always stick by me. d. d. you are to be hereafter."

"that will tickle tavia," declared dorothy. "she always said i was a born parson."

"better yet," exclaimed cologne. "be parson. now we've got it. the little parson," and away she flew to impart her intelligence to a waiting world of foolish schoolgirls.