Of Mice and Men Study Guide

Name: Date: Period: Of Mice and Men Study Guide Identify the character and include a brief description. Lennie George Candy Slim Curley Curley’s wife Carlson Crooks Chapter 1 1. Look at the way both Lennie and George are first described. How is this initial description fitting when we find out more about each man? 2. Is the relationship between George and Lennie one of friendship, or does George only feel obligated to take care of Lennie? What evidence can you find to support either conclusion? 3. Why does Lennie have the dead mouse? Why does George take it away? 4. What happened at the last place where Lennie and George worked? 5. Describe the dream George and Lennie share for their future. Why is it so important to both men? 6. Steinbeck compares Lennie to two different animals. Name these animals and state the author’s reason for the similes. Chapter 2 7. How is the bunk house described? What does the description tell the reader about the men who live there? 8. What do we find out about Curley, his wife, and his father through George's discussions with others? 9. How would you describe Curley and his wife? What do their actions tell you about each of their characters? 10. Re-read Steinbeck's description of Slim (p. 37). What does this description tell you about Slim's character? Is he a man to be trusted and looked up to? 11. What is Lennie eagerly talking about on page 40? 12. Foreshadowing plays an important part in this chapter. What are some of your predictions? List three. Chapter 3 13. What are Carlson's reasons for shooting Candy's dog? 14. What are Candy's reasons for not shooting the dog? 15. In what ways is Candy like his dog? 16. What does the fight between Lennie and Curley show about their characters? 17. Why doesn't George help Lennie in the fight? 18. There is symbolism in Candy’s dog being shot. Tell how this incident is symbolic of Candy’s own life on the ranch. Chapter 4 19. What does Crooks’s room and the things in it tell you about his character? 20. What does Crooks say to Lennie about loneliness? 21. Why would Crooks react so negatively to Lennie, then let him in anyway? 22. Why does Crooks torture and taunt Lennie about George? 23. Why is Crooks called "Crooks"? How does this reflect his personality? Chapter 5 24. How have Curley's wife's dreams for her life changed or been lost? 25. Why does Curley's wife tell Lennie about "the letter"? What do you think the letter symbolizes? 26. How does Lennie's killing of the puppy parallel his killing of Curley's wife and the mice? 27. How does Candy react to the death of Curley's wife? 28. What options do George and Candy discuss after the discovery of the body? Chapter 6 29. What is the significance of the rabbit appearing at the end of the book? 30. Why did George kill Lennie and was he justified in doing that? 31. Explain what happens to the dream at the end of the novel for both Lennie and George. 32. In what way does Slim show understanding for George's decision? Why does Carlson ask the last question?

Outside Book Report

Board Game Book Report Assignment: You will create a board game that will review elements from your outside reading book. The board game can follow any design you choose, but the design must relate in some way to the novel you have read. The game must also include questions about the novel and detailed instructions on how to play. Requirements:  Game board inside of manila file folder. Open the folder and draw the game board or glue a game board to the inside of the folder. The layout should cover as much of the inside of the folder as you can with the game board. The boards should be neat and information complete. Board must contain color elements.  Write the name of the game and your name on the folder tab.  Decorate the front cover of the folder with the game title and, for example, a scene from the novel. Must be in color.  25 question cards that relate to the plot, characters, etc. from your novel (include answers).  Brochure that includes detailed directions on how to play the game.  Envelope (or zip top bag) to place all game pieces and question cards. Paper clips with colored paper attached to them make great player markers. Resources:  List of board games (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_board_games)  Writing brochure template (http://interactives.mped.org/view_interactive.aspx?id=110&title=) The last day to turn in this assignment is Friday, June 1st. No exceptions.

Euthanasia Articles

Read the following articles. Create a Works Cited for each of the articles using correct MLA format. Refer to the O.W.L. Purdue website if you have questions. APRIL 3, 2012, 2:59 PM Inside a Story About Helping the Elderly to Die By David Jolly For my article on euthanasia in the Netherlands, I interviewed Petra de Jong, the Dutch doctor who is the head of Right to Die-NL. Euthanasia is widely accepted — and, since 2002 legal — in the Netherlands for those whose suffering is ‘‘unbearable,’’ but Dr. de Jong’s group has been courting controversy by seeking to extend help in dying to everyone age 70 and over, even if they aren’t sick. It has also begun offering mobile euthanasia teams to assist people whose doctors refuse to provide them life-ending treatment. For an outsider there is something striking about the Dutch attitude to euthanasia, as well as to marijuana — about which I recently wrote — and prostitution, all of which are legal, but closely regulated. The policies of tolerating these practices grew from experience showing that forcing them into the shadows caused even worse problems: crime and disease, in the case of drugs and prostitution; unrelieved suffering, and murky or deeply troubling cases of supposed mercy killing in euthanasia. Dr. de Jong argues that by insisting on ‘‘unbearable suffering,’’ the law fails old people who have decided that their lives are complete. These people, whom she described as ‘‘suffering from life,’’ may well try to take their own lives anyway, she said. ‘‘Suicide is not illegal, you can always do that,’’ she said. ‘‘But you need a way. Old people are less mobile and there are fewer good ways. And some of the ways we know are really awful.’’ For Dr. de Jong, the questions are deeply personal, I learned. Her parents took their own lives. ‘‘They died together in 2010,’’ she told me. ‘‘They had gathered medication for insurance against when they didn’t want to live anymore, and they didn’t want to depend on their G.P.,’’ their general practitioner or everyday doctor. Her father was suffering from cancer and her mother ‘‘didn’t want to be alone,’’ she said, after a long life together. ‘‘They died in each others’ arms together in their bed. So suddenly my private life and my work here came together. That was a bit strange.’’ Push for the Right to Die Grows in the Netherlands By David Jolly Published: April 2, 2012 AMSTERDAM — It was 1989, and Dr. Petra de Jong, a Dutch pulmonologist, was asked for help by a terminally ill patient, a man in great pain with a large cancerous tumor in his trachea. He wanted to end his life. She gave the man pentobarbital, a powerful barbiturate — but not enough. It took him nine hours to die. “I realize now that I did things wrong,” Dr. de Jong, 58, said in an interview in her office here. “Today you can Google it, but we didn’t know.” Her warm and sincere manner belies, or perhaps attests to, her calling. The man was the first of 16 patients whom Dr. de Jong, now the head of the euthanasia advocacy group Right to Die-NL, has helped to achieve what she calls “a dignified death.” Founded in 1973, Right to Die-NL has been at the forefront of the movement to make euthanasia widely available in the Netherlands, even as the practice remains highly controversial elsewhere. Polls find that an overwhelming majority of the Dutch believe euthanasia should be available to suffering patients who want it, and thousands formally request euthanasia every year. Right to Die-NL, which claims 124,000 members, made worldwide headlines in early March with the news that it was creating mobile euthanasia teams to help patients die at home. The organization has also courted controversy with its call for legislation to make euthanasia available to anyone over age 70, sick or not. Dr. de Jong said more than 100 requests have been made for the mobile service. Several of them are being evaluated, and euthanasia has been performed in one case. Advocates and critics of assisted suicide are watching the organization’s efforts closely. Rick Santorum, the Republican presidential candidate from Pennsylvania, created something of a stir in February when he asserted — wrongly — that euthanasia accounted for 5 percent of all deaths in the Netherlands, and that many elderly Dutch wore wristbands that said “Do not euthanize me.” Dutch officials quickly countered the claims. “Internationally, the Dutch have pushed the conversation on both the wisdom of allowing people to choose how and when they die when they’re in great suffering, and on the nature of compassion in dying,” said Paul Root Wolpe, director of the Center for Ethics at Emory University in Atlanta. Under the Netherlands’ 2002 Termination of Life on Request and Assisted Suicide Act, doctors may grant patients’ requests to die without fear of prosecution as long as they observe certain guidelines. The request must be made voluntarily by an informed patient who is undergoing suffering that is both lasting and unbearable. Doctors must also obtain the written affirmation of a second, independent physician that the case meets the requirements and report all such deaths to the authorities for review. Dr. de Jong said Dutch physicians typically euthanize patients by injecting a barbiturate to induce sleep, followed by a powerful muscle relaxant like curare. For assisted suicide, the doctor prescribes a drug to prevent vomiting, followed by a lethal dose of barbiturates. Almost 80 percent of all such deaths take place in patients’ homes, according to the Royal Dutch Medical Association. In 2010, the latest year for which data are available, doctors reported 3,136 notifications cases of “termination of life on request.” Serious illnesses — late-stage cancer, typically — lie behind a vast majority. Euthanasia is responsible for about 2 percent of all deaths annually in the Netherlands, according to Eric van Wijlick, a policy adviser for the association. Euthanasia is typically carried out by the general practitioners who serve as the backbone of the country’s universal health care system, doctors who often have enjoyed long relationships with their patients and know their feelings well. Mr. van Wijlick said the euthanasia law was possible because of “the moderate and open climate we have in the Netherlands, with respect for other points of view,” and acknowledged that it would be difficult to carry out elsewhere, because everyone in the Netherlands has access to health care, an income and housing. “There are no economic reasons to ask for euthanasia,” he said, something that might not be true in the United States, with its for-profit health care system. The mobile teams were needed, Dr. de Jong said, because many general practitioners, either for moral reasons or perhaps because of uncertainty about the law, refused to help suffering patients to die after it had become too late to find another doctor. The mobile teams will work to help them do so, she said. Say a hypothetical 82-year-old man with metastasizing prostate cancer and poor prospects is told by his doctor that does not qualify for euthanasia. The man could contact the Right to Die-NL’s new “life-ending clinic,” and if he appeared to meet the criteria, a doctor and a nurse would go to his home to make an assessment. If all the conditions were met, he would be euthanized, ideally with his family beside him. Dr. de Jong emphasized that a patient could never be euthanized on the initial visit, because the law requires that a second physician be consulted. Even in the Netherlands, some think Right to Die-NL may now be going too far. In addition to the mobile teams, the organization is among those pushing to give all people 70 years old and over the right to assisted death, even when they are not suffering from terminal illness. (The conservative government of Prime Minister Mark Rutte has said there will be no changes to the law under its tenure.) “We think old people can suffer from life,” Dr. de Jong said. “Medical technology is so advanced that people live longer and longer, and sometimes they say ‘enough is enough.’ ” Mr. Wijlick said the Royal Dutch Medical Association was “uneasy” with the mobile teams because “the question of euthanasia can’t be taken out of isolation of the care of the patient,” which should be in the hands of the primary caregiver, the general practitioner. Most of the time, he added, there is a good reason that a doctor refuses euthanasia. Often, it is because the doctor believes the patient’s case does not meet the criteria set out by law. The association also opposes euthanasia for those “suffering from life.” “There must always be a medical condition,” Mr. van Wijlick said. Still, in such cases a doctor could explain to patients how to deny themselves food and drink, he noted, and could assist with any suffering that entailed. The Dutch patients’ organization N.P.V., a Christian group with 66,000 members, strongly criticizes the current application of the law, saying the practice of euthanasia has been extended to encompass patients with dementia and other conditions who may not by definition be competent to request help in dying. Elise van Hoek-Burgerhart, a spokeswoman for the N.P.V., said in an e-mail that the idea of mobile euthanasia teams was “absurd,” and that there was no way the mobile-team doctors could get to know a patient in just a few days. Moreover, she added, research shows that 10 percent of requests for euthanasia from the elderly would disappear if palliative care were better. She also noted that the law requires review committees to sign off on every reported case of euthanasia, but that 469 cases from 2010 had still not been reviewed, meaning it was not clear how well doctors were adhering to the official guidelines. Dr. Wolpe, the Emory University bioethicist, said he was “generally supportive” of people’s right to choose their own death, but that he was troubled by some trends in the Netherlands, including the extension of euthanasia to people who were not suffering physically. “When you switch from purely physiological criteria to a set of psychological criteria, you are opening the door to abuse and error,” he said. A Polarizing Figure in End-of-Life Debate A version of this news analysis appeared in print on June 5, 2011, on page A21 of the New York edition with the headline: A Polarizing Figure in End-of-Life Debates. Associated Press By JOHN SCHWARTZ In reports of Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s death on Friday at the age of 83, the general rule of obituaries held: Do not speak ill of the dead. Dr. Kevorkian was generally described as a difficult man who helped advance the cause of assisted suicide for those with terminal illness. Within the movement known generally as death with dignity, however, the evaluation of his contribution might seem surprisingly qualified, and the praise decidedly muted. “He raised the profile of the issue, but he put the wrong face on it,” said Eli D. Stutsman, a lawyer in Portland, Ore., who helped draft his state’s trailblazing Death With Dignity Act, which allows terminal patients to end their own lives with the help of a doctor. The 1997 Oregon law was built with compromise and careful consideration of policy, Mr. Stutsman said. It includes requirements that the patient be at the end stage of terminal disease and not have psychiatric disorders like depression, and that the patient take the drugs used in the procedure without help, to ensure that the act is voluntary from start to finish. It is a very different system from that of Dr. Kevorkian, who seemed to make up his methods as he went along. He did not appear to screen patients to determine whether they were actually close to death, and he seemed to make no efforts to get counseling for those who might have wanted to live longer. He devised “suicide machines” that could deliver drugs or carbon monoxide gas and could be set off by the patients. He carted the equipment to patients in his battered Volkswagen van and left many of the resulting 130 or more bodies at emergency rooms or even in hotel rooms. Death, certainly — but death with dignity, no. “Under the Oregon Death with Dignity Act, we would have put him in jail,” Mr. Stutsman said. “We ended up using him as an example of how not to do it.” Since the act was passed, 525 people have ended their lives under its auspices, according to the state’s 2010 annual report. In 2010, 96 prescriptions were written for the barbiturates used, and 65 people ended their lives. Mr. Stutsman went on to be a founding board member of the Death With Dignity National Center, which promotes similar legislative efforts around the country. They face serious opposition by groups that reject physician-assisted suicide for reasons that include religious belief and concern that such laws would open the door to forced euthanasia. Mr. Stutsman said successful campaigns in Oregon and Washington State showed the value of a strategy of compromise and coalition building. “He was advocating from the margins of the political debate,” Mr. Stutsman said of Dr. Kevorkian. “I was working from the middle of the political continuum — it’s very hard to change public policy from the margins of the debate.” The movement won a major victory in 2006 when the United States Supreme Court ruled that the federal government could not prosecute Oregon doctors who participated in the assisted-suicide law. Peg Sandeen, the executive director of the Death With Dignity National Center, said the ruling helped convince states that their own efforts would be respected — and was, she said, a major factor in the 2008 passage of the Washington State bill. The Montana Supreme Court held in 2009 that no state law restricts the right of its citizens to end their lives with the help of physicians, though the court did not go so far as to say that physician-assisted suicide is a right under the State Constitution. Efforts so far in California, Hawaii, Maine and Vermont have not been successful, though a new bill is before the Vermont Legislature. Barbara Coombs Lee, the president of Compassion and Choices, a group that promotes what it refers to as “end-of-life choice” in legislatures and the courts and was a co-plaintiff in the Montana case, said Dr. Kevorkian “was quite scornful of any effort to change the law.” She called his death “the end of an era.” Noting that he was a polarizing figure — “people either thought he was a saint and martyred or the devil incarnate” — she explained, “To us, he was neither, but certainly pivotal to our movement.” Even at the extremes, she said, he “raised everyone’s consciousness about the problem of end-of-life suffering” and spurred others to look for ways for those with terminal illness to end their lives on their own terms. An “ignominious” death at the hands of Dr. Kevorkian “was a dramatic display of just how desperate people were who are seeking a peaceful end of their terminal disease,” she said. The policy-oriented groups worked to distinguish themselves from the Kevorkian spectacle. One Washington briefing in 1999 was titled “Jack Kevorkian and Physician-Assisted Dying: Not One and the Same.” Still, disagreement has its uses, said Scott Blaine Swenson, who was the executive director of the Death With Dignity National Center from 2001 to 2005. “He was the perfect foil” for the centrist movement that was promoting policy change, Mr. Swenson said. “You need somebody to play against,” he said. Dr. Kevorkian — erratic, loud and playing by his own rules — helped the movement establish rules that voters could live with, Mr. Swenson said. “The truth, I think, is that had a Kevorkian not existed, that folks in Oregon and other proponents of assisted dying would have needed to invent him,” he said.

"Fields of Tears"

Read "Fields of Tears" found at this link: http://www.economist.com/node/17722932 Answer the following questions. Notes on “Fields of Tears” A powerful component of writing is the use of ethos, pathos and logos. Ethos is the character or projected character of the speaker. Is the speaker credible, or worth listening to? Pathos is emotion. This can be humor, fear, anxiety, guilt or pleasure. Logos is reasoning and logic and can include numbers, statistics, charts, graphs, etc. But remember that even numbers can be manipulated. Structure Your Response What “hook” does the writer use? What is the issue? What is your position on this issue? Why? Which rhetorical techniques are used (ethos, pathos, logos)? Give evidence (sentence and page number). First Argument Evidence #1 Evidence #2 What rhetorical techniques are used? Give evidence. Second Argument Evidence #1 Evidence #2 Those who disagree say . . . Evidence that supports THEIR argument: Is this evidence persuasive? Why or why not? What rhetorical techniques are used? Give examples. Conclusion What is the transition to conclusion? What is the author’s position on this issue? Evidence of author’s position Clinching sentence or phrase (reverse “hook”)

Online TKAM Final

The online TKAM final is not working. Please come in before or after school to make it up. All tests must be made up by Friday, May 18th.

May 14 - 18

Monday, May 14 Work day **For those who were absent for the TKAM final, please make sure you come in before or after school to make the test up. The online quiz isn't working. Tuesday, May 15 TKAM final project DUE. No electronic copies accepted. No late work accepted. Begin Of Mice and Men. Study guide is also due. No late work accepted. Wednesday, May 16 Pre-testing. Report directly to room 219. Thursday, May 17 Steinbeck's "Chrysanthemum" Friday, May 18 Reading day

To Kill a Mockingbird Final

The final for To Kill a Mockingbird is available through your Skyward account. Log on to Skyward. On the opening page on the left hand side is a category that says Online Assignments. Click on "Current Assignments" and the final will be opened. Click on the highlighted "Answer Questions" and take the test. Your score will automatically be added to Skyward when you finish.

Questions for "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” Study Guide Answer the following questions about the poem. 1. What words would you use to describe Prufrock’s emotional difficulty in the poem? 2. What hints does the name “J. Alfred Prufrock” give us about the character of the “hero”? 3. How could the famous simile in lines 2-3 reveal that the speaker’s mind or will is paralyzed? 4. What is the speaker inviting someone to do in lines 1-12? What is suggested by the images of the place they are going to travel through? 5. What does the name Michelangelo contribute in lines 13-14? What would be the effect if, for instance, the women were “talking of Joe DiMaggio” or “discussing detergents”? 6. In lines 15-25, we have one of the most famous extended metaphors in modern poetry. What is being indirectly compared to what? How many details extend the metaphor? 7. The self-consciousness of the speaker is nowhere more evident than in lines 37-44. What do you think he is self-conscious and worried about in these lines? 8. What does line 51 imply about the way Prufrock has lived? What other measuring devices would suggest a different kind of life? 9. What references to women does Prufrock make in the poem? How do you think he feels about women and his attractiveness to them? 10. How are the setting and people described in lines 70-72 different from those familiar to Prufrock? What might this experience with another segment of city life fell us about Prufrock? 11. In lines 73-74, the speaker creates a metaphor to pointedly dramatize his alienation from the rest of the world. Can you explain why Prufrock thinks he should have been a clawed creature on the floor of the sea? 12. Lines 87-98 echo the widely heard complaint that a “lack of communication” between people is the cause of misunderstanding. What do you think Prufrock would like to tell people? 13. In lines 99-104, Prufrock considers summarizing his life to another person and reaches a point of exasperation that seems close to surrender: “It is impossible to say just what I mean!” Why does Prufrock find it so difficult to express himself to others? 14. Identify the brilliant visual metaphor in line 105. How does it relate to therest of the poem? How does the speaker think people will respond to his “exposure”? 15. Read lines 120-125 closely. Explain how the speaker sees his role in life. Do you think he has overcome his doubts? 16. How would you characterize someone who worries about the part in his hair and about what he should dare to eat (line 122)? 17. In lines 125-128, the speaker thinks that the mermaids are indifferent to him, yet he is held by this romantic vision. Why do you think he is so fascinated by these mythological creatures, and what might they represent for him? Why does he believe they will not sing to him? 18. By means of paraphrase, can you restate the meaning of lines 129-131? When “human voices wake us,” what do we “drown” in? 19. Think about this poem as a journey, a quest that begins with an invitation to join the man who makes it. What do you think the journey has finally led us to? Or do you think that the point of the poem is not so much an answer arrived at as an experience lived? Explain. 20. Explain why this poem—one of the most famous poems of the twentieth century—has been described as a reflection of spiritual emptiness and emotional paralysis. Do you think its depiction of life in Eliot’s day or our own is accurate? Why or why not?

"Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

T. S. Eliot: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1919) ________________________________________ Eliot was born in St. Louis and educated at Harvard University, but most of his adult life was passed in London. In the vanguard of the artistic movement known as Modernism, Eliot was a unique innovator in poetry and The Waste Land (1922) stands as one of the most original and influential poems of the twentieth century. As a young man he suffered a religious crisis and a nervous breakdown before regaining his emotional equilibrium and Christian faith. His early poetry, including "Prufrock," deals with spiritually exhausted people who exist in the impersonal modern city. Prufrock is a representative character who cannot reconcile his thoughts and understanding with his feelings and will. The poem displays several levels of irony, the most important of which grows out of the vain, weak man's insights into his sterile life and his lack of will to change that life. The poem is replete with images of enervation and paralysis, such as the evening described as "etherized," immobile. Prufrock understands that he and his associates lack authenticity. One part of himself would like to startle them out of their meaningless lives, but to accomplish this he would have to risk disturbing his "universe," being rejected. The latter part of the poem captures his sense defeat for failing to act courageously. Eliot helped to set the modernist fashion for blending references to the classics with the most sordid type of realism, then expressing the blend in majestic language which seems to mock the subject. What makes this poem different from a normal love song? ________________________________________ S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero, Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. (1) Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized (2) upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats 5 Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust (3) restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question . . . 10 Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. (4) 15 The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20 And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep. And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25 There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go 35 Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?" Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair-- 40 [They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"] My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin-- [They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"] Do I dare 45 Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all:-- Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50 I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all-- 55 The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60 And how should I presume? And I have known the arms already, known them all-- Arms that are braceleted and white and bare [But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!] Is it perfume from a dress 65 That makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume? And how should I begin? . . . . . Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70 And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . . I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. . . . . . And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75 Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, (5) Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80 But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, (6) I am no prophet--and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85 And in short, I was afraid. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, 90 To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question, To say: "I am Lazarus, (7) come from the dead Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"-- 95 If one, settling a pillow by her head, Should say: "That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all." And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, 100 After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor-- And this, and so much more?-- It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern (8) threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105 Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all." 110 . . . . . No! I am not Prince Hamlet, (9) nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, 115 Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse At times, indeed, almost ridiculous-- Almost, at times, the Fool. I grow old . . .I grow old . . . 120 I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. 125 I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130 Till human voices wake us, and we drown. ________________________________________ (1) A passage from Dante Alighieri's Inferno (Canto 27, lines 61-66) spoken by Guido da Montefeltro in response to the questions of Dante, who Guido supposes is dead, since he is in Hell:. The flame in which Guido is encased vibrates as he speaks: "If I thought that that I was replying to someone who would ever return to the world, this flame would cease to flicker. But since no one ever returns from these depths alive, if what I've heard is true, I will answer you without fear of infamy." (2) Anesthetized with ether; but also suggesting "made etherial," less real. (3) Cheap bars and restaurants used to spread sawdust on the floor to soak up spilled beer, etc. (4) The great Renaissance Italian artist. (5) Cookies and ice cream. (6) Like John the Baptist (see Matthew 14: 1-12) (7) A man raised from death by Jesus (see John 11: 1-44). Eliot may also have had in mind the Lazarus in the parable told by Jesus in Luke 16:19-31, in which case the poetical Lazarus would have returned to deliver a message which the Biblical Lazarus could not. (8) Early form of slide projector. (9) Shakespeare's sensitive hero known for procrastination. Dramatic Monologue: This poem is written as a dramatic monologue—a poem in which a character speaks directly to one or more listeners. The words are being spoken by a man named Prufrock. In a dramatic monologue, we must learn everything about the setting, situation, other characters, and the personality of the speaker through what the speaker tells us. Sometimes Prufrock’s line of reasoning is interrupted by an unexpected thought. You will often have to supply the missing connections in the speaker’s stream of thoughts and associations. This poem was published in 1915, during World War I. Annotate the poem when you come to examples of how Prufrock’s thoughts reflect ideas about his own time and perhaps about our time as well. Look for the idea that people are spiritually empty and the idea that contemporary life is unromantic and unheroic. Heroes are people of action, but some people have proposed that the drudgery of modern life has made many people observers rather than participants in life’s adventures. See whether you agree that the protagonist of this poem is a person of profound self-absorption and passivity, who fits the profile of antihero, the disillusioned and ineffectual protagonist we find in much modern and contemporary literature.

Wednesday, May 9 Journal

Look up Dorothea Lange's "Migrant Mother" photograph. Use it to answer the following questions: Study the photograph. Describe the people in the photo. What objects are included? What activity are they doing? What is the setting? What is the body language? Facial expression? What is the theme or message of the photo? Is it effective? Why or why not? What is your opinion on the issue? How did the photo reinforce it?

May 7 - 11 Schedule

Monday: "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" Tuesday: Begin group work on TKAM final project (newspaper) TKAM quiz 16-21 Wednesday: Work Day Thursday: "Love Song" due Friday: Reading/work day

TKAM Final Project

Name__________________________Date_______________Period___________ Final Group Project for To Kill a Mockingbird Assignment You and your group will create a newspaper that reflects the setting, characters, conflict and plot of the novel. The articles are researched and written by you. Do not cut and paste existing material into your newspaper. That is plagiarism and will result in a failing grade. Section A is traditionally the “hard news” section. Each member of the group contribute an “A” section article (review a newspaper for an example of this type of article). Articles must be thorough, accurate and well-researched. Please include in-text citations from credible sources. Remember the “who, what, where, when, why and how” of reporting. Look to the issues described in the novel: poverty, justice, racism, prejudice and stereotyping for your A section articles. Choose a headline for your newspaper, and your lead article. Each article must have a picture (document the source). Section B has local news, and some lighter topics. Include a minimum of four articles from the following list: • Character Feature Piece • 1930's news story • Local News in Maycomb • Obituary • Advice Column • Horoscopes • Recipes • Crossword puzzles • Cartoons Section C is the Opinion/Editorial section. • Look through the opinion section of a newspaper and examine the types of articles you will find here. The articles range from editorials (both for and against issues), letters to the editor and political cartoons. Each group member will contribute an opinion/editorial on a topic the group decides (use a variety of topics just as a real newspaper does). • A political cartoon (drawn by a member of your group) • Assign each member of your group to write an opinion piece about events in To Kill a Mockingbird related issues (prejudice, justice, poverty, the Great Depression, racism, etc.). Use opinions of characters in the novel to help you understand how people in Maycomb would have felt about these issues. Write the article from the point of view of one of the characters in To Kill a Mockingbird. Your articles should show that you understand these issues and how people in 1930s Maycomb reacted to them.

Responding to Art and Found Poem

Name________________________________Date________________________Period___________ Art Art is a multifaceted world that can touch emotions in anyone, through its various forms and styles. Answer the following questions about specific works you enjoyed and/or disliked. (Be sure to include the title, artist, and a short description of the painting, photo, sculpture or art piece). What is one painting or piece of art that you really liked? What, specifically, intrigued you about it? Title: Artist: Description: What is one painting or piece of art that you really didn’t like? What, specifically, bothered you? Title: Artist: Description: What is one painting that you didn’t understand or see any meaning in? Title: Artist: Description: Why do you think some art is considered good and other art is considered bad? Whose opinion matters when discussing the world of fine art? In the space provided below, create a free-verse poem about one of the pieces of art. The poem should have a title and be a minimum of 10 lines. Be sure to include the title and artist (at the bottom of the page). Title: Found poem inspired by:

Movie Notes for TKAM

Name_________________________________Date__________________Period_______________ Symbolism in To Kill a Mockingbird Symbol: something that represents something else: something that stands for or represents something else, especially an object representing an abstraction (Bing.com dictionary) For a symbol to be truly a symbol, it must be repeated throughout a work. It may be difficult picking out symbols if you do not understand the purpose or the function of the symbol. The objects that appear behind the opening credits of To Kill a Mockingbird include a pocket watch, harmonica, pearl necklace, whistle, marbles, and a child's drawing of a bird- items that gain meaning as the story unfolds. The sequence is a good introduction for the story's symbolism and themes. It also shows (to quote Harper Lee again) how a film can have "a life of its own as a work of art." Notice how the camera moves in, like a child's vision, to close-ups of these valued objects, tracking from left to right along the row of treasures carefully arranged. Notice how the nostalgic music and humming of a child create a mood. And notice what happens to the drawing at the end of the sequence. ACTIVITY Pay careful attention to the opening sequence in the film. For each symbol, determine what is happening in the scene with the object and what it might mean or represent. Items seen in opening credits of the film Symbolic Meaning pocket watch harmonica pearl necklace whistle marbles drawing of a bird 1. Who is telling the story? Why is it being told? 2. How does it represent its subject- especially with reference to period? (representation, use of stereotypes, representation of the past) 3. Who are the characters in the film? 4. Did the actors make you forget they were acting? How? 5. What vivid visual images did you note? What did they make you feel or think about? 6. What is the film’s setting? 7. In what scene was an actor’s voice (pitch, volume, expression) particularly effective? Why? 8. What scenes can you understand even without dialogue? Why? 9. What are the main plot elements? (Conflict, resolution, rising action, etc.) 10. Select a scene that must have been difficult to act. How did the actor make his or her body movements appropriate and convincing? 11. What is the theme of the film? 12. Describe a scene in which facial expression was important. What feelings were developed? Were words necessary? 13. What is the mood of the film? How is it achieved? 14. Did the actors establish their characters more through dialogue or through movement and facial expressions? Give an example. 15. Other than those used in the opening credits, what symbols did you notice? What ideas did they symbolize? 16. Was there anything about the acting, set, or costumes that bothered you or interfered with your watching of the film?

Calendar April 30 - May 4, 2012

Monday Quiz on TKAM chapters 4-8. Password is "snow" Quiz will be closed on Friday. Reading assignment: Chapters 9-15 by Thursday, May 3. Tuesday Watch the opening of TKAM film. Answer questions on movie notes worksheet. Even though we will not watch the entire film, the worksheet can (and must) be completed by the end of class. Wednesday Review the definition of what a symbol is and how it is present in TKAM. Visit the art show in the media center. Write a poem based on one of the pieces that you viewed. Thursday Quiz on chapters 9-15 of TKAM. Password is "Tom". Quiz will not be opened until 8:00 a.m. Introduce final project for TKAM. Projects are due on May 15th. Friday Reading day

To Kill a Mockingbird WebQuest

To Kill a Mockingbird Web Quest Introduction To Kill a Mockingbird is set in the sleepy town of Maycomb, Alabama. Atticus Finch is asked to defend a black man charged with the rape of a white woman. Through the eyes of his children, Scout and Jem Finch, Harper Lee explores the irrationality of adult attitudes toward race and class in the Deep South of the 1930s. The consciousness of a town steeped in prejudice, violence, and hypocrisy is pricked by the quiet heroism of one man’s struggle for justice. To best understand the lessons of this novel, it is important to understand the author, the times, and the place in which the story is set. Task Visit the various websites to learn the necessary background information before starting the novel. There are a few questions for you to answer for each website so you can gain a good feel for the 1930s and the historical context of the novel and its themes. Questions Answer all questions thoroughly and in complete sentences. The History of Jim Crow http://www.jimcrowhistory.org/history/overview.htm 1. Where did the term “Jim Crow” originate from? 2. After the year 1900, what did the term, “Jim Crow,” become identified with? 3. What Supreme Court case upheld segregation, or “separate but equal”? 4. Who was Booker T. Washington? What was his stance on the segregation debates? 5. What was the name of the new literary movement, based in Harlem, New York, which featured “New Negro” poetry and literature that emphasized self-respect and defiance under the Jim Crow laws? 6. How did some southern black people try to resist and escape the Jim Crow laws? Black Thursday http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Thursday 7. What does the term, “Black Thursday,” refer to? 8. What was the date of Black Thursday? 9. Explain how the Wall Street Crash led to The Great Depression. American History 1930-1939 http://kclibrary.lonestar.edu/decade30.html 10. During The Great Depression, many Dust Bowl farmers packed their families into cars and headed where? 11. Why did the farmers go? 12. Who were the Presidents during the 1930s? 13. What did the sculptor, Gutzon Borglum, create? 14. Observe the painting, “American Gothic” on the website. Describe Grant Wood’s famous work. What does it look like? What kind of life does it portray? 15. What was fashion like during the 1930s? Observe the pictures on the site and describe the trends of the times. 16. Who were some of the prominent authors of the time? What famous works are they responsible for? The Scottsboro Boys http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/FTrials/scottsboro/SB_acct.html 17. What were the Scottsboro Boys known for? Who were they? What did they do? How did they get in so much trouble? 18. The Scottsboro Boys’ attorneys were extremely incompetent. How did the defense attorneys show their lack of experience? 19. Were The Scottsboro Boys ever pardoned of their wrongful convictions? Harper Lee http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/harperle.htm 20. What work is Harper Lee most famous for writing? 21. When did she win the Pulitzer Prize and for what piece of literature? 22. What famous Civil War general is Harper Lee related to? 23. Where and during what time is Lee’s novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, set? Maycomb County Map http://www.swisseduc.ch/english/readinglist/lee_harper/mockingbird/maycomb.html 24. Based on the Maycomb County map, the Finches live next door to whom? 25. Whose house is the oak tree next to? (click the link that says, “Another map of

Research Paper

The rough draft peer edit (typed) is due on Tuesday, April 24th. The essay should be in this format: Title page (title, your name, date and period) Final draft a. Opening 1. hook/intro to title 2. transition to topic 3. 3 part thesis statement (the prompt for this paper is "A moment in history". Be sure your paper focuses on WHY this moment is significant). 1st Topic For each topic, use a MINIMUM of one source Include in-text citation for each source (who said it, where it was said/published, and what was said. Whether you directly quote--in parenthesis--or paraphrase, you must include a page or paragraph number. If there is no page number, count paragraphs and write (par. 12) or whatever it is. One counter argument for each topic. Your topics may run 1 paragraph or several paragraphs. Your paper needs to be between 4 and 7 pages long. No less than 4 (and this is 4 FULL pages, not 3 1/4 or even 3 1/2) and does not include the title page or the Works Cited page. Works Cited page Use correct MLA format. You are accountable for making sure that you've followed the guidelines given on the OWL Purdue website. You are welcome to use Citationmachine.com or another Works Cited generator, but ultimately, YOU must make sure the citation is correctly done. Interview Release Form Signed (either electronically or by hand) release from the person you interviewed. Submit On Wednesday, April 25th, the essay (without title page and Works Cited page) must be submitted by 11:59 p.m. A hard copy of the essay (with title page, Works Cited page and signed personal interview release form) is due at the beginning of class. No late work is accepted. It is your responsibility to make sure you have access to a printer. I will not accept emailed copies. If you print your research paper in the library, it is .05 a page. Please plan accordingly.

To Kill a Mockingbird Study Guide

SEE ME for a copy of the "Meet the Characters" and the anticipation guide. They are in table format and blogspot doesn't support that (i.e., it is a huge, jumbled mess). Answer the following questions. Chapters 1-3 1. What did Dill dare Jem to do? 2. What was Scout's first "crime" at school? 3. What was Calpurnia's fault? 4. Why did Scout rub Walter Cunningham's nose in the dirt? 5. Scout said, "He ain't company, Cal, he's just a Cunningham." What did she mean by that, and what was Cal's answer? 6. What two mistakes did Miss Caroline make on the first day of school? 7. Why didn't the Ewells have to go to school? Chapters 4-7 8. What did Scout and Jem find in the Radleys' tree? 9. Identify Mrs. Dubose. 10. How did Jem get even with Scout for contradicting him about "Hot Steams?" 11. What was the Boo Radley game? 12. Identify Miss Maudie. 13. What does Miss Maudie think of the Radleys? 14. Why do Dill and Jem want to give Boo Radley a note? What does Atticus say when he finds out about their plan? 15. How did Jem lose his pants? What did he find when he went back for them? 16. What else did Jem and Scout find in the Radleys' tree? 17. Why would there be no more surprises in the tree? Chapters 8-9 18. What happened to Miss Maudie's house? What was her reaction? 19. Identify Cecil Jacobs. 20. What "disaster" happened at Christmas between Scout and Francis? Chapters 10-11 21. What did Scout's Uncle Jack learn from Scout and Atticus? 22. What brave thing does Atticus do in Chapter 10? Why are Scout and Jem shocked? 23. What did Jem do when Mrs. Dubose said Atticus "lawed for niggers?" 24. What was Jem's punishment? 25. What did Jem learn from his encounter with Mrs. Dubose and following her death? Chapters 12-14 26. How does Jem change? 27. Identify Lula, Zeebo and Reverend Sykes. 28. What does Scout learn about Calpurnia? 29. Who was waiting for the children when they came home from the church service? Why had she come? 30. "Aunt Alexandra fitted into the world of Maycomb like a hand in a glove, but never into the world of Jem and me." Explain. 31. Atticus and Alexandra disagree about how to deal with the children. How does Atticus handle the situation? 32. Describe Jem and Scout's relationship through these chapters as Jem matures. 33. Why did Dill run away from home back to Maycomb? Chapters 15-17 34. What did Mr. Heck Tate's mob want? 35. What was the purpose of Walter Cunningham's mob? 36. Why did Mr. Cunningham's mob leave? 37. Identify Mr. Dolphus Raymond. 38. Identify Tom Robinson, Mr. Gilmer, Bob Ewell, Mayella Ewell, and Judge Taylor. 39. What was the importance of Mayella's bruises being primarily on the right-hand side of her face? Chapters 18-21 40. What was Mayella's account of the incident with Tom Robinson? 41. What was Tom's side of the story? 42. What was Tom's handicap? Why was it important to his case? 43. What do Dill and Scout learn from Mr. Raymond? 44. What were Atticus' closing remarks to the jury? 45. What was the jury's verdict? Chapters 22-25 46. Why did Jem cry? 47. What was "'round the back steps" when Calpurnia came in on Monday morning? 48. What was the significance of Maudie's two little cakes and one large one? 49. Describe Bob Ewell's meeting with Atticus at the post office. 50. What is Atticus' reaction to Ewell's threats? 51. Alexandra doesn't want Scout playing with Walter Cunningham. Why not? 52. Jem said. "I think I'm beginning to understand why Boo Radley's stayed shut up in the house all this time . . . it's because he wants to stay inside." Why does he say that? 53. Mrs. Merriweather of the missionary circle complains about her cooks and field hands. What does that tell us about her? 54. What happened to Tom Robinson? 55. What more do we learn about Alexandra after Atticus and Calpurnia leave? 56. What did Mr. Underwood's editorial say? Chapters 26-31 57. What was Scout's fantasy regarding Arthur (Boo) Radley? 58. What did Scout hear Miss Gates say at the courthouse? In class, Miss Gates said, "That's the difference between America and Germany. We are a democracy and Germany is a dictatorship. . . . We don't believe in persecuting anybody. Persecution comes from people who are prejudiced." What does this tell us about Miss Gates? 59. What happened to Judge Taylor? 60. What happened to Helen Robinson? 61. What was Scout's part in the pageant? 62. Why did Scout and Jem not leave the school until almost everyone else had gone? 63. What happened to Jem and Scout on the way home from the pageant? 64. Who saved Jem and Scout? Who killed Bob Ewell? 65. Why did Heck Tate insist that Bob Ewell fell on his own knife? 66. Scout arranged things so that "if Miss Stephanie Crawford was watching from her upstairs window, she would see Arthur Radley escorting [her] down the sidewalk, as any gentleman would do." Why did she do that? 67. As Scout leaves the Radley porch, she looks out at the neighborhood and recounts the events of the last few years from the Radleys' perspective. Why is that important? Vocabulary Write a definition for the word and correctly use the word in a sentence. 1. cantankerous 2. compel 3. conscience 4. feeble 5. harbor 6. irk 7. perplexed 8. tranquil 9. antagonize 10. contradict 11. convict 12. reluctantly 13. sullen 14. testimony 15. verdict 16. aggravate 17. apprehension 18. impertinence 19. inevitable

April 23 - 26

Monday, April 23: *WebQuest book report DUE. Publish your book report on Zunal.com and send link to Karen.Larson@canyonsdistrict.org. *Begin To Kill a Mockingbird. Read chapters 1-3 for quiz on Thursday, April 26th. *Study guide (see "Study Guide" post for a copy). *Outside reading approval. Due Thursday, April 26th. Tuesday, April 24: *Typed rough draft of research paper DUE. No late work. We will peer edit today in class. Wednesday, April 25: *Research paper DUE. No late work. Submit your "Moment in Time" essay through My Access by 11:59 p.m. Wednesday night. Bring a copy of your title page, final draft, Works Cited page and interview release form to class TODAY. *TKM WebQuest Thursday, April 26: *Quiz on TKM chapters 1-3. Outside reading approval due. *TKM WebQuest due. *Parent/Teacher conferences tonight! See you there.

WebQuest Book Report

Webquest Book Report

Using Zunal.com, you will create a WebQuest for your outside reading book. A WebQuest is a form of inquiry, where the participant is directed to different websites to gain information about the topic.
Process:
• Go to Zunal.com
• Create a FREE account. Use your first and last name as your user name with a space between the two (ex: Karen Larson). Use your first and last names as your password (ex: KarenLarson).
• Click on “Create WebQuest” and follow the prompts.
• The left side of the page has tabs with Title, Introduction, Task, Process, Evaluation and Conclusion. Each tab includes prompts with ideas for what you can include on the page.
• Introduction: Write a brief summary of your book. Remember to use your own words!! Include a picture.
• Task: Describe what you want the user to learn. Include a picture.
• Process: The actual questions (list at least five questions) and the websites (list at least three CREDIBLE websites). Include a picture.
• Evaluation: Ask a question that will help evaluate how well the user should understand the material. Use questions that begin with “How” and “What,” rather than “Do.” You want your question to be thoughtfully answered, not answered with a “yes” or “no.” Include a picture.
• Conclusion: Your final thoughts on the novel. Assess the strengths and weaknesses. Must be at least one paragraph (150 words). Include a picture.
• Email to Karen.Larson@canyonsdistrict.org by _____________________________________.

Schedule for April 16-20

Monday, April 16
*Typed rough draft of Gatsby essay DUE. This is worth 25 points and cannot be turned in late.
*Book report given. Due on Monday, April 23.

Tuesday, April 17
*In class research day
*Gatsby essay must be submitted by 11:59 p.m. on My Access.

Wednesday, April 18 (Midterm)
*Marked Gatsby book
*Study guide
*Color symbolism (must complete CDs and commentary for three colors)
No late work accepted

Thursday, April 19
Begin To Kill a Mockingbird
*Quiz on chapters 1-3 in TKM on Monday, April 23
*Complete personal interview. If you cannot complete your interview by Thursday, April 19, please let me know BEFORE Thursday, April 19.
*Bring address for interviewee to class on Friday, April 20.


Friday, April 20
*Typed transcript of personal interview DUE.
*Write thank you note to interviewee.
Writing/research day

"Bernice Bobs Her Hair" Short Story

After dark on Saturday night one could stand on the first tee of the golf-course and see the country-club windows as a yellow expanse over a very black and wavy ocean. The waves of this ocean, so to speak, were the heads of many curious caddies, a few of the more ingenious chauffeurs, the golf professional's deaf sister--and there were usually several stray, diffident waves who might have rolled inside had they so desired. This was the gallery.
The balcony was inside. It consisted of the circle of wicker chairs that lined the wall of the combination clubroom and ballroom. At these Saturday-night dances it was largely feminine; a great babel of middle-aged ladies with sharp eyes and icy hearts behind lorgnettes and large bosoms. The main function of the balcony was critical. It occasionally showed grudging admiration, but never approval, for it is well known among ladies over thirty-five that when the younger set dance in the summer-time it is with the very worst intentions in the world, and if they are not bombarded with stony eyes stray couples will dance weird barbaric interludes in the corners, and the more popular, more dangerous, girls will sometimes be kissed in the parked limousines of unsuspecting dowagers.

But, after all, this critical circle is not close enough to the stage to see the actors' faces and catch the subtler byplay. It can only frown and lean, ask questions and make satisfactory deductions from its set of postulates, such as the one which states that every young man with a large income leads the life of a hunted partridge. It never really appreciates the drama of the shifting, semicruel world of adolescence. No; boxes, orchestra-circle, principals, and chorus are represented by the medley of faces and voices that sway to the plaintive African rhythm of Dyer's dance orchestra.

From sixteen-year-old Otis Ormonde, who has two more years at Hill School, to G. Reece Stoddard, over whose bureau at home hangs a Harvard law diploma; from little Madeleine Hogue, whose hair still feels strange and uncomfortable on top of her head, to Bessie MacRae, who has been the life of the party a little too long--more than ten years--the medley is not only the centre of the stage but contains the only people capable of getting an un-obstructed view of it.

With a flourish and a bang the music stops. The couples exchange artificial, effortless smiles, facetiously repeat "la-de-da-da dum-dum," and then the clatter of young feminine voices soars over the burst of clapping.

A few disappointed stags caught in midfloor as they had been about to cut in subsided listlessly back to the walls, because this was not like the riotous Christmas dances--these summer hops were considered just pleasantly warm and exciting, where even the younger marrieds rose and performed ancient waltzes and terrifying fox trots to the tolerant amusement of their younger brothers and sisters.

Warren McIntyre, who casually attended Yale, being one of the unfortunate stags, felt in his dinner-coat pocket for a cigarette and strolled out onto the wide, semidark veranda, where couples were scattered at tables, filling the lantern-hung night with vague words and hazy laughter. He nodded here and there at the less absorbed and as he passed each couple some half-forgotten fragment of a story played in his mind, for it was not a large city and every one was Who's Who to every one else's past. There, for example, were Jim Strain and Ethel Demorest, who had been privately engaged for three years. Every one knew that as soon as Jim managed to hold a job for more than two months she would marry him. Yet how bored they both looked, and how wearily Ethel regarded Jim sometimes, as if she wondered why she had trained the vines of her affection on such a wind-shaken poplar.

Warren was nineteen and rather pitying with those of his friends who hadn't gone East to college. But, like most boys, he bragged tremendously about the girls of his city when he was away from it. There was Genevieve Ormonde, who regularly made the rounds of dances, house-parties, and football games at Princeton, Yale, Williams, and Cornell; there was black-eyed Roberta Dillon, who was quite as famous to her own generation as Hiram Johnson or Ty Cobb; and, of course, there was Marjorie Harvey, who besides having a fairylike face and a dazzling, bewildering tongue was already justly celebrated for having turned five cart-wheels in succession during the last pump-and-slipper dance at New Haven.

Warren, who had grown up across the street from Marjorie, had long been "crazy about her." Sometimes she seemed to reciprocate his feeling with a faint gratitude, but she had tried him by her infallible test and informed him gravely that she did not love him. Her test was that when she was away from him she forgot him and had affairs with other boys. Warren found this discouraging, especially as Marjorie had been making little trips all summer, and for the first two or three days after each arrival home he saw great heaps of mail on the Harveys' hall table addressed to her in various masculine handwritings. To make matters worse, all during the month of August she had been visited by her cousin Bernice from Eau Claire, and it seemed impossible to see her alone. It was always necessary to hunt round and find some one to take care of Bernice. As August waned this was becoming more and more difficult.

Much as Warren worshipped Marjorie, he had to admit that Cousin Bernice was sorta dopeless. She was pretty, with dark hair and high color, but she was no fun on a party. Every Saturday night he danced a long arduous duty dance with her to please Marjorie, but he had never been anything but bored in her company.

"Warren"--a soft voice at his elbow broke in upon his thoughts, and he turned to see Marjorie, flushed and radiant as usual. She laid a hand on his shoulder and a glow settled almost imperceptibly over him.

"Warren," she whispered, "do something for me--dance with Bernice. She's been stuck with little Otis Ormonde for almost an hour."

Warren's glow faded.

"Why--sure," he answered half-heartedly.

"You don't mind, do you? I'll see that you don't get stuck."

"'Sall right."

Marjorie smiled--that smile that was thanks enough.

"You're an angel, and I'm obliged loads."

With a sigh the angel glanced round the veranda, but Bernice and Otis were not in sight. He wandered back inside, and there in front of the women's dressing-room he found Otis in the centre of a group of young men who were convulsed with laughter. Otis was brandishing a piece of timber he had picked up, and discoursing volubly.

"She's gone in to fix her hair," he announced wildly. "I'm waiting to dance another hour with her."

Their laughter was renewed.

"Why don't some of you cut in?" cried Otis resentfully. "She likes more variety."

"Why, Otis," suggested a friend, "you've just barely got used to her."

"Why the two-by-four, Otis?" inquired Warren, smiling.

"The two-by-four? Oh, this? This is a club. When she comes out I'll hit her on the head and knock her in again."

Warren collapsed on a settee and howled with glee.

"Never mind, Otis," he articulated finally. "I'm relieving you this time."

Otis simulated a sudden fainting attack and handed the stick to Warren.

"If you need it, old man," he said hoarsely.

No matter how beautiful or brilliant a girl may be, the reputation of not being frequently cut in on makes her position at a dance unfortunate. Perhaps boys prefer her company to that of the butterflies with whom they dance a dozen times an evening, but youth in this jazz-nourished generation is temperamentally restless, and the idea of fox-trotting more than one full fox trot with the same girl is distasteful, not to say odious. When it comes to several dances and the intermissions between she can be quite sure that a young man, once relieved, will never tread on her wayward toes again.

Warren danced the next full dance with Bernice, and finally, thankful for the intermission, he led her to a table on the veranda. There was a moment's silence while she did unimpressive things with her fan.

"It's hotter here than in Eau Claire," she said.

Warren stifled a sigh and nodded. It might be for all he knew or cared. He wondered idly whether she was a poor conversationalist because she got no attention or got no attention because she was a poor conversationalist.

"You going to be here much longer?" he asked, and then turned rather red. She might suspect his reasons for asking.

"Another week," she answered, and stared at him as if to lunge at his next remark when it left his lips.

Warren fidgeted. Then with a sudden charitable impulse he decided to try part of his line on her. He turned and looked at her eyes.

"You've got an awfully kissable mouth," he began quietly.

This was a remark that he sometimes made to girls at college proms when they were talking in just such half dark as this. Bernice distinctly jumped. She turned an ungraceful red and became clumsy with her fan. No one had ever made such a remark to her before.

"Fresh!"--the word had slipped out before she realized it, and she bit her lip. Too late she decided to be amused, and offered him a flustered smile.

Warren was annoyed. Though not accustomed to have that remark taken seriously, still it usually provoked a laugh or a paragraph of sentimental banter. And he hated to be called fresh, except in a joking way. His charitable impulse died and he switched the topic.

"Jim Strain and Ethel Demorest sitting out as usual," he commented.

This was more in Bernice's line, but a faint regret mingled with her relief as the subject changed. Men did not talk to her about kissable mouths, but she knew that they talked in some such way to other girls.

"Oh, yes," she said, and laughed. "I hear they've been mooning round for years without a red penny.

Isn't it silly?"

Warren's disgust increased. Jim Strain was a close friend of his brother's, and anyway he considered it bad form to sneer at people for not having money. But Bernice had had no intention of sneering. She was merely nervous.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

II
When Marjorie and Bernice reached home at half after midnight they said good night at the top of the stairs. Though cousins, they were not intimates. As a matter of fact Marjorie had no female intimates--she considered girls stupid. Bernice on the contrary all through this parent-arranged visit had rather longed to exchange those confidences flavored with giggles and tears that she considered an indispensable factor in all feminine intercourse. But in this respect she found Marjorie rather cold; felt somehow the same difficulty in talking to her that she had in talking to men. Marjorie never giggled, was never frightened, seldom embarrassed, and in fact had very few of the qualities which Bernice considered appropriately and blessedly feminine.
As Bernice busied herself with tooth-brush and paste this night she wondered for the hundredth time why she never had any attention when she was away from home. That her family were the wealthiest in Eau Claire; that her mother entertained tremendously, gave little dinners for her daughter before all dances and bought her a car of her own to drive round in, never occurred to her as factors in her home-town social success. Like most girls she had been brought up on the warm milk prepared by Annie Fellows Johnston and on novels in which the female was beloved because of certain mysterious womanly qualities. always mentioned but never displayed.

Bernice felt a vague pain that she was not at present engaged in being popular. She did not know that had it not been for Marjorie's campaigning she would have danced the entire evening with one man; but she knew that even in Eau Claire other girls with less position and less pulchritude were given a much bigger rush. She attributed this to something subtly unscrupulous in those girls. It had never worried her, and if it had her mother would have assured her that the other girls cheapened themselves and that men really respected girls like Bernice.

She turned out the light in her bathroom, and on an impulse decided to go in and chat for a moment with her aunt Josephine, whose light was still on. Her soft slippers bore her noiselessly down the carpeted hall, but hearing voices inside she stopped near the partly opened door. Then she caught her own name, and without any definite intention of eavesdropping lingered--and the thread of the conversation going on inside pierced her consciousness sharply as if it had been drawn through with a needle.

"She's absolutely hopeless!" It was Marjorie's voice. "Oh, I know what you're going to say! So many people have told you how pretty and sweet she is, and how she can cook! What of it? She has a bum time. Men don't like her."

"What's a little cheap popularity?"

Mrs. Harvey sounded annoyed.

"It's everything when you're eighteen," said Marjorie emphatically. "I've done my best. I've been polite and I've made men dance with her, but they just won't stand being bored. When I think of that gorgeous coloring wasted on such a ninny, and think what Martha Carey could do with it--oh!"

"There's no courtesy these days."

Mrs. Harvey's voice implied that modern situations were too much for her. When she was a girl all young ladies who belonged to nice families had glorious times.

"Well," said Marjorie, "no girl can permanently bolster up a lame-duck visitor, because these days it's every girl for herself. I've even tried to drop her hints about clothes and things, and she's been furious--given me the funniest looks. She's sensitive enough to know she's not getting away with much, but I'll bet she consoles herself by thinking that she's very virtuous and that I'm too gay and fickle and will come to a bad end. All unpopular girls think that way. Sour grapes! Sarah Hopkins refers to Genevieve and Roberta and me as gardenia girls! I'll bet she'd give ten years of her life and her European education to be a gardenia girl and have three or four men in love with her and be cut in on every few feet at dances."

"It seems to me," interrupted Mrs. Harvey rather wearily, "that you ought to be able to do something for Bernice. I know she's not very vivacious."

Marjorie groaned.

"Vivacious! Good grief! I've never heard her say anything to a boy except that it's hot or the floor's crowded or that she's going to school in New York next year. Sometimes she asks them what kind of car they have and tells them the kind she has. Thrilling!"

There was a short silence, and then Mrs. Harvey took up her refrain:

"All I know is that other girls not half so sweet and attractive get partners. Martha Carey, for instance, is stout and loud, and her mother is distinctly common. Roberta Dillon is so thin this year that she looks as though Arizona were the place for her. She's dancing herself to death."

"But, mother," objected Marjorie impatiently, "Martha is cheerful and awfully witty and an awfully slick girl, and Roberta's a marvellous dancer. She's been popular for ages!"

Mrs. Harvey yawned.

"I think it's that crazy Indian blood in Bernice," continued Marjorie. "Maybe she's a reversion to type. Indian women all just sat round and never said anything."

"Go to bed, you silly child," laughed Mrs. Harvey. "I wouldn't have told you that if I'd thought you were going to remember it. And I think most of your ideas are perfectly idiotic," she finished sleepily.

There was another silence, while Marjorie considered whether or not convincing her mother was worth the trouble. People over forty can seldom be permanently convinced of anything. At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide.

Having decided this, Marjorie said good night. When she came out into the hall it was quite empty.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

III
While Marjorie was breakfasting late next day Bernice came into the room with a rather formal good morning, sat down opposite, stared intently over and slightly moistened her lips.
"What's on your mind?" inquired Marjorie, rather puzzled.

Bernice paused before she threw her hand-grenade.

"I heard what you said about me to your mother last night."

Marjorie was startled, but she showed only a faintly heightened color and her voice was quite even when she spoke.

"Where were you?"

"In the hall. I didn't mean to listen--at first."

After an involuntary look of contempt Marjorie dropped her eyes and became very interested in balancing a stray corn-flake on her finger.

"I guess I'd better go back to Eau Claire--if I'm such a nuisance." Bernice's lower lip was trembling violently and she continued on a wavering note: "I've tried to be nice, and--and I've been first neglected and then insulted. No one ever visited me and got such treatment."

Marjorie was silent.

"But I'm in the way, I see. I'm a drag on you. Your friends don't like me." She paused, and then remembered another one of her grievances. "Of course I was furious last week when you tried to hint to me that that dress was unbecoming. Don't you think I know how to dress myself?"

"No," murmured Marjorie less than half-aloud.

"What?"

"I didn't hint anything," said Marjorie succinctly. "I said, as I remember, that it was better to wear a becoming dress three times straight than to alternate it with two frights."

"Do you think that was a very nice thing to say?"

"I wasn't trying to be nice." Then after a pause: "When do you want to go?"

Bernice drew in her breath sharply.

"Oh!" It was a little half-cry.

Marjorie looked up in surprise.

"Didn't you say you were going?"

"Yes, but----"

"Oh, you were only bluffing!"

They stared at each other across the breakfast-table for a moment. Misty waves were passing before Bernice's eyes, while Marjorie's face wore that rather hard expression that she used when slightly intoxicated undergraduates were making love to her.

"So you were bluffing," she repeated as if it were what she might have expected.

Bernice admitted it by bursting into tears. Marjorie's eyes showed boredom.

"You're my cousin," sobbed Bernice. "I'm v-v-visiting you. I was to stay a month, and if I go home my mother will know and she'll wah-wonder----"

Marjorie waited until the shower of broken words collapsed into little sniffles.

"I'll give you my month's allowance," she said coldly, "and you can spend this last week anywhere you want. There's a very nice hotel----"

Bernice's sobs rose to a flute note, and rising of a sudden she fled from the room.

An hour later, while Marjorie was in the library absorbed in composing one of those non-committal, marvellously elusive letters that only a young girl can write, Bernice reappeared, very red-eyed and consciously calm. She cast no glance at Marjorie but took a book at random from the shelf and sat down as if to read. Marjorie seemed absorbed in her letter and continued writing. When the clock showed noon Bernice closed her book with a snap.

"I suppose I'd better get my railroad ticket."

This was not the beginning of the speech she had rehearsed up-stairs, but as Marjorie was not getting her cues--wasn't urging her to be reasonable; it's all a mistake--it was the best opening she could muster.

"Just wait till I finish this letter," said Marjorie without looking round. "I want to get it off in the next mail."

After another minute, during which her pen scratched busily, she turned round and relaxed with an air of "at your service." Again Bernice had to speak.

"Do you want me to go home?"

"Well," said Marjorie, considering, "I suppose if you're not having a good time you'd better go. No use being miserable."

"Don't you think common kindness----"

"Oh, please don't quote `Little Women'!" cried Marjorie impatiently. "That's out of style."

"You think so?"

"Heavens, yes! What modern girl could live like those inane females?"

"They were the models for our mothers."

Marjorie laughed.

"Yes, they were--not! Besides, our mothers were all very well in their way, but they know very little about their daughters' problems."

Bernice drew herself up.

"Please don't talk about my mother."

Marjorie laughed.

"I don't think I mentioned her."

Bernice felt that she was being led away from her subject.

"Do you think you've treated me very well?"

"I've done my best. You're rather hard material to work with."

The lids of Bernice's eyes reddened.

"I think you're hard and selfish, and you haven't a feminine quality in you."

"Oh, my Lord!" cried Marjorie in desperation. "You little nut! Girls like you are responsible for all the tiresome colorless marriages; all those ghastly inefficiencies that pass as feminine qualities. What a blow it must be when a man with imagination marries the beautiful bundle of clothes that he's been building ideals round, and finds that she's just a weak, whining, cowardly mass of affectations!"

Bernice's mouth had slipped half open.

"The womanly woman!" continued Marjorie. "Her whole early life is occupied in whining criticisms of girls like me who really do have a good time."

Bernice's jaw descended farther as Marjorie's voice rose.

"There's some excuse for an ugly girl whining. If I'd been irretrievably ugly I'd never have forgiven my parents for bringing me into the world. But you're starting life without any handicap--" Marjorie's little fist clinched. "If you expect me to weep with you you'll be disappointed. Go or stay, just as you like." And picking up her letters she left the room.

Bernice claimed a headache and failed to appear at luncheon. They had a matinée date for the afternoon, but the headache persisting, Marjorie made explanation to a not very downcast boy. But when she returned late in the afternoon she found Bernice with a strangely set face waiting for her in her bedroom.

"I've decided," began Bernice without preliminaries, "that maybe you're right about things--possibly not. But if you'll tell me why your friends aren't--aren't interested in me I'll see if I can do what you want me to."

Marjorie was at the mirror shaking down her hair.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Without reservations? Will you do exactly what I say?"

"Well, I----"

"Well nothing! Will you do exactly as I say?"

"If they're sensible things."

"They're not! You're no case for sensible things."

" Are you going to make--to recommend----"

"Yes, everything. If I tell you to take boxing-

lessons you'll have to do it. Write home and tell your mother you're going to stay another two weeks."

"If you'll tell me----"

"All right--I'll just give you a few examples now. First, you have no ease of manner. Why? Because you're never sure about your personal appearance. When a girl feels that she's perfectly groomed and dressed she can forget that part of her. That's charm. The more parts of yourself you can afford to forget the more charm you have."

"Don't I look all right?"

"No; for instance, you never take care of your eyebrows. They're black and lustrous, but by leaving them straggly they're a blemish. They'd be beautiful if you'd take care of them in one-tenth the time you take doing nothing. You're going to brush them so that they'll grow straight."

Bernice raised the brows in question.

"Do you mean to say that men notice eyebrows?"

"Yes--subconsciously. And when you go home you ought to have your teeth straightened a little. It's almost imperceptible, still----"

"But I thought," interrupted Bernice in bewilderment, "that you despised little dainty feminine things like that."

"I hate dainty minds," answered Marjorie. "But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it."

"What else?"

"Oh, I'm just beginning! There's your dancing."

"Don't I dance all right?"

"No, you don't--you lean on a man; yes, you do--ever so slightly. I noticed it when we were dancing together yesterday. And you dance standing up straight instead of bending over a little. Probably some old lady on the side-line once told you that you looked so dignified that way. But except with a very small girl it's much harder on the man, and he's the one that counts."

"Go on." Bernice's brain was reeling.

"Well, you've got to learn to be nice to men who are sad birds. You look as if you'd been insulted whenever you're thrown with any except the most popular boys. Why, Bernice, I'm cut in on every few feet--and who does most of it? Why, those very sad birds. No girl can afford to neglect them. They're the big part of any crowd. Young boys too shy to talk are the very best conversational practice. Clumsy boys are the best dancing practice. If you can follow them and yet look graceful you can follow a baby tank across a barb-wire sky-scraper."

Bernice sighed profoundly, but Marjorie was not through.

"If you go to a dance and really amuse, say, three sad birds that dance with you; if you talk so well to them that they forget they're stuck with you, you've done something. They'll come back next time, and gradually so many sad birds will dance with you that the attractive boys will see there's no danger of being stuck--then they'll dance with you."

"Yes," agreed Bernice faintly. "I think I begin to see."

"And finally," concluded Marjorie, "poise and charm will just come. You'll wake up some morning knowing you've attained it, and men will know it too."

Bernice rose.

"It's been awfully kind of you--but nobody's ever talked to me like this before, and I feel sort of startled."

Marjorie made no answer but gazed pensively at her own image in the mirror.

"You're a peach to help me," continued Bernice.

Still Marjorie did not answer, and Bernice thought she had seemed too grateful.

"I know you don't like sentiment," she said timidly.

Marjorie turned to her quickly.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking about that. I was considering whether we hadn't better bob your hair."

Bernice collapsed backward upon the bed.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IV
On the following Wednesday evening there was a dinner-dance at the country club. When the guests strolled in Bernice found her place-card with a slight feeling of irritation. Though at her right sat G. Reece Stoddard, a most desirable and distinguished young bachelor, the all-important left held only Charley Paulson. Charley lacked height, beauty, and social shrewdness, and in her new enlightenment Bernice decided that his only qualification to be her partner was that he had never been stuck with her. But this feeling of irritation left with the last of the soup-plates, and Marjorie's specific instruction came to her. Swallowing her pride she turned to Charley Paulson and plunged.
"Do you think I ought to bob my hair, Mr. Charley Paulson?"

Charley looked up in surprise.

"Why?"

"Because I'm considering it. It's such a sure and easy way of attracting attention."

Charley smiled pleasantly. He could not know this had been rehearsed. He replied that he didn't know much about bobbed hair. But Bernice was there to tell him.

"I want to be a society vampire, you see," she announced coolly, and went on to inform him that bobbed hair was the necessary prelude. She added that she wanted to ask his advice, because she had heard he was so critical about girls.

Charley, who knew as much about the psychology of women as he did of the mental states of Buddhist contemplatives, felt vaguely flattered.

"So I've decided," she continued, her voice rising slightly, "that early next week I'm going down to the Sevier Hotel barber-shop, sit in the first chair, and get my hair bobbed." She faltered, noticing that the people near her had paused in their conversation and were listening; but after a confused second Marjorie's coaching told, and she finished her paragraph to the vicinity at large. "Of course I'm charging admission, but if you'll all come down and encourage me I'll issue passes for the inside seats."

There was a ripple of appreciative laughter, and under cover of it G. Reece Stoddard leaned over quickly and said close to her ear: "I'll take a box right now."

She met his eyes and smiled as if he had said something surpassingly brilliant.

"Do you believe in bobbed hair?" asked G. Reece in the same undertone.

"I think it's unmoral," affirmed Bernice gravely. "But, of course, you've either got to amuse people or feed 'em or shock 'em." Marjorie had culled this from Oscar Wilde. It was greeted with a ripple of laughter from the men and a series of quick, intent looks from the girls. And then as though she had said nothing of wit or moment Bernice turned again to Charley and spoke confidentially in his ear.

"I want to ask you your opinion of several people. I imagine you're a wonderful judge of character."

Charley thrilled faintly--paid her a subtle compliment by overturning her water.

Two hours later, while Warren McIntyre was standing passively in the stag line abstractedly watching the dancers and wondering whither and with whom Marjorie had disappeared, an unrelated perception began to creep slowly upon him--a perception that Bernice, cousin to Marjorie, had been cut in on several times in the past five minutes. He closed his eyes, opened them and looked again. Several minutes back she had been dancing with a visiting boy, a matter easily accounted for; a visiting boy would know no better. But now she was dancing with some one else, and there was Charley Paulson headed for her with enthusiastic determination in his eye. Funny--Charley seldom danced with more than three girls an evening.

Warren was distinctly surprised when--the exchange having been effected--the man relieved proved to be none other than G. Reece Stoddard himself. And G. Reece seemed not at all jubilant at being relieved. Next time Bernice danced near, Warren regarded her intently. Yes, she was pretty, distinctly pretty; and to-night her face seemed really vivacious. She had that look that no woman, however histrionically proficient, can successfully counterfeit--she looked as if she were having a good time. He liked the way she had her hair arranged, wondered if it was brilliantine that made it glisten so. And that dress was becoming--a dark red that set off her shadowy eyes and high coloring. He remembered that he had thought her pretty when she first came to town, before he had realized that she was dull. Too bad she was dull--dull girls unbearable--certainly pretty though.

His thoughts zigzagged back to Marjorie. This disappearance would be like other disappearances. When she reappeared he would demand where she had been--would be told emphatically that it was none of his business. What a pity she was so sure of him! She basked in the knowledge that no other girl in town interested him; she defied him to fall in love with Genevieve or Roberta.

Warren sighed. The way to Marjorie's affections was a labyrinth indeed. He looked up. Bernice was again dancing with the visiting boy. Half unconsciously he took a step out from the stag line in her direction, and hesitated. Then he said to himself that it was charity. He walked toward her --collided suddenly with G. Reece Stoddard.

"Pardon me," said Warren.

But G. Reece had not stopped to apologize. He had again cut in on Bernice.

That night at one o'clock Marjorie, with one hand on the electric-light switch in the hall, turned to take a last look at Bernice's sparkling eyes.

"So it worked?"

"Oh, Marjorie, yes!" cried Bernice.

"I saw you were having a gay time."

"I did! The only trouble was that about midnight I ran short of talk. I had to repeat myself--with different men of course. I hope they won't compare notes."

"Men don't," said Marjorie, yawning, "and it wouldn't matter if they did--they'd think you were even trickier."

She snapped out the light, and as they started up the stairs Bernice grasped the banister thankfully. For the first time in her life she had been danced tired.

"You see," said Marjorie at the top of the stairs, "one man sees another man cut in and he thinks there must be something there. Well, we'll fix up some new stuff to-morrow. Good night."

"Good night."

As Bernice took down her hair she passed the evening before her in review. She had followed instructions exactly. Even when Charley Paulson cut in for the eighth time she had simulated delight and had apparently been both interested and flattered. She had not talked about the weather or Eau Claire or automobiles or her school, but had confined her conversation to me, you, and us.

But a few minutes before she fell asleep a rebellious thought was churning drowsily in her brain--after all, it was she who had done it. Marjorie, to be sure, had given her her conversation, but then Marjorie got much of her conversation out of things she read. Bernice had bought the red dress, though she had never valued it highly before Marjorie dug it out of her trunk--and her own voice had said the words, her own lips had smiled, her own feet had danced. Marjorie nice girl--vain, though--nice evening--nice boys--like Warren--Warren--Warren--what's-his-name--Warren----

She fell asleep.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

V
To Bernice the next week was a revelation. With the feeling that people really enjoyed looking at her and listening to her came the foundation of self-confidence. Of course there were numerous mistakes at first. She did not know, for instance, that Draycott Deyo was studying for the ministry; she was unaware that he had cut in on her because he thought she was a quiet, reserved girl. Had she known these things she would not have treated him to the line which began "Hello, Shell Shock!" and continued with the bathtub story--"It takes a frightful lot of energy to fix my hair in the summer--there's so much of it--so I always fix it first and powder my face and put on my hat; then I get into the bathtub, and dress afterward. Don't you think that's the best plan?"
Though Draycott Deyo was in the throes of difficulties concerning baptism by immersion and might possibly have seen a connection, it must be admitted that he did not. He considered feminine bathing an immoral subject, and gave her some of his ideas on the depravity of modern society.

But to offset that unfortunate occurrence Bernice had several signal successes to her credit. Little Otis Ormonde pleaded off from a trip East and elected instead to follow her with a puppy-like devotion, to the amusement of his crowd and to the irritation of G. Reece Stoddard, several of whose afternoon calls Otis completely ruined by the disgusting tenderness of the glances he bent on Bernice. He even told her the story of the two-by-four and the dressing-room to show her how frightfully mistaken he and every one else had been in their first judgment of her. Bernice laughed off that incident with a slight sinking sensation.

Of all Bernice's conversation perhaps the best known and most universally approved was the line about the bobbing of her hair.

"Oh, Bernice, when you goin' to get the hair bobbed?"

"Day after to-morrow maybe," she would reply, laughing. "Will you come and see me? Because I'm counting on you, you know."

"Will we? You know! But you better hurry up."

Bernice, whose tonsorial intentions were strictly dishonorable, would laugh again.

"Pretty soon now. You'd be surprised."

But perhaps the most significant symbol of her success was the gray car of the hypercritical Warren McIntyre, parked daily in front of the Harvey house. At first the parlor-maid was distinctly startled when he asked for Bernice instead of Marjorie; after a week of it she told the cook that Miss Bernice had gotta hold a Miss Marjorie's best fella.

And Miss Bernice had. Perhaps it began with Warren's desire to rouse jealousy in Marjorie; perhaps it was the familiar though unrecognized strain of Marjorie in Bernice's conversation; perhaps it was both of these and something of sincere attraction besides. But somehow the collective mind of the younger set knew within a week that Marjorie's most reliable beau had made an amazing face-about and was giving an indisputable rush to Marjorie's guest. The question of the moment was how Marjorie would take it. Warren called Bernice on the 'phone twice a day, sent her notes, and they were frequently seen together in his roadster, obviously engrossed in one of those tense,

significant conversations as to whether or not he was sincere.

Marjorie on being twitted only laughed. She said she was mighty glad that Warren had at last found some one who appreciated him. So the younger set laughed, too, and guessed that Marjorie didn't care and let it go at that.

One afternoon when there were only three days left of her visit Bernice was waiting in the hall for Warren, with whom she was going to a bridge party. She was in rather a blissful mood, and when Marjorie--also bound for the party--appeared beside her and began casually to adjust her hat in the mirror, Bernice was utterly unprepared for anything in the nature of a clash. Marjorie did her work very coldly and succinctly in three sentences.

"You may as well get Warren out of your head," she said coldly.

"What?" Bernice was utterly astounded.

"You may as well stop making a fool of yourself over Warren McIntyre. He doesn't care a snap of his fingers about you."

For a tense moment they regarded each other--Marjorie scornful, aloof; Bernice astounded, half-angry, half-afraid. Then two cars drove up in front of the house and there was a riotous honking. Both of them gasped faintly, turned, and side by side hurried out.

All through the bridge party Bernice strove in vain to master a rising uneasiness. She had offended Marjorie, the sphinx of sphinxes. With the most wholesome and innocent intentions in the world she had stolen Marjorie's property. She felt suddenly and horribly guilty. After the bridge game, when they sat in an informal circle and the conversation became general, the storm gradually broke. Little Otis Ormonde inadvertently precipitated it.

"When you going back to kindergarten, Otis?" some one had asked.

"Me? Day Bernice gets her hair bobbed."

"Then your education's over," said Marjorie quickly. "That's only a bluff of hers. I should think you'd have realized."

"That a fact?" demanded Otis, giving Bernice a reproachful glance.

Bernice's ears burned as she tried to think up an effectual come-back. In the face of this direct attack her imagination was paralyzed.

"There's a lot of bluffs in the world," continued Marjorie quite pleasantly. "I should think you'd be young enough to know that, Otis."

"Well," said Otis, "maybe so. But gee! With a line like Bernice's--"

"Really?" yawned Marjorie. "What's her latest bon mot?"

No one seemed to know. In fact, Bernice, having trifled with her muse's beau, had said nothing memorable of late.

"Was that really all a line?" asked Roberta curiously.

Bernice hesitated. She felt that wit in some form

was demanded of her, but under her cousin's suddenly frigid eyes she was completely incapacitated.

"I don't know," she stalled.

"Splush!" said Marjorie. "Admit it!"

Bernice saw that Warren's eyes had left a ukulele he had been tinkering with and were fixed on her questioningly.

"Oh, I don't know!" she repeated steadily. Her cheeks were glowing.

"Splush!" remarked Marjorie again.

"Come through, Bernice," urged Otis. "Tell her where to get off."

Bernice looked round again--she seemed unable to get away from Warren's eyes.

"I like bobbed hair," she said hurriedly, as if he had asked her a question, "and I intend to bob mine."

"When?" demanded Marjorie.

"Any time."

"No time like the present," suggested Roberta.

Otis jumped to his feet.

"Good stuff!" he cried. "We'll have a summer bobbing party. Sevier Hotel barber-shop, I think you said."

In an instant all were on their feet. Bernice's heart throbbed violently.

"What?" she gasped.

Out of the group came Marjorie's voice, very clear and contemptuous.

"Don't worry--she'll back out!"

"Come on, Bernice!" cried Otis, starting toward the door.

Four eyes--Warren's and Marjorie's--stared at her, challenged her, defied her. For another second she wavered wildly.

"All right," she said swiftly, "I don't care if I do."

An eternity of minutes later, riding down-town through the late afternoon beside Warren, the others following in Roberta's car close behind, Bernice had all the sensations of Marie Antoinette bound for the guillotine in a tumbrel. Vaguely she wondered why she did not cry out that it was all a mistake. It was all she could do to keep from clutching her hair with both hands to protect it from the suddenly hostile world. Yet she did neither. Even the thought of her mother was no deterrent now. This was the test supreme of her sportsmanship; her right to walk unchallenged in the starry heaven of popular girls.

Warren was moodily silent, and when they came to the hotel he drew up at the curb and nodded to Bernice to precede him out. Roberta's car emptied a laughing crowd into the shop, which presented two bold plate-glass windows to the street.

Bernice stood on the curb and looked at the sign, Sevier Barber-Shop. It was a guillotine indeed, and the hangman was the first barber, who, attired in a white coat and smoking a cigarette, leaned nonchalantly against the first chair. He must have heard of her; he must have been waiting all week, smoking eternal cigarettes beside that portentous, too-often-mentioned first chair. Would they blindfold her? No, but they would tie a white cloth round her neck lest any of her blood--nonsense--hair--should get on her clothes.

"All right, Bernice," said Warren quickly.

With her chin in the air she crossed the sidewalk, pushed open the swinging screen-door, and giving not a glance to the uproarious, riotous row that occupied the waiting bench, went up to the first barber.

"I want you to bob my hair."

The first barber's mouth slid somewhat open. His cigarette dropped to the floor.

"Huh?"

"My hair--bob it!"

Refusing further preliminaries, Bernice took her seat on high. A man in the chair next to her turned on his side and gave her a glance, half lather, half amazement. One barber started and spoiled little Willy Schuneman's monthly haircut. Mr. O'Reilly in the last chair grunted and swore musically in ancient Gaelic as a razor bit into his cheek. Two bootblacks became wide-eyed and rushed for her feet. No, Bernice didn't care for a shine.

Outside a passer-by stopped and stared; a couple joined him; half a dozen small boys' noses sprang into life, flattened against the glass; and snatches of conversation borne on the summer breeze drifted in through the screen-door.

"Lookada long hair on a kid!"

"Where'd yuh get 'at stuff? 'At's a bearded lady he just finished shavin'."

But Bernice saw nothing, heard nothing. Her only living sense told her that this man in the white coat had removed one tortoise-shell comb and then another; that his fingers were fumbling clumsily with unfamiliar hairpins; that this hair, this wonderful hair of hers, was going--she would never again feel its long voluptuous pull as it hung in a dark-brown glory down her back. For a second she was near breaking down, and then the picture before her swam mechanically into her vision--Marjorie's mouth curling in a faint ironic smile as if to say:

"Give up and get down! You tried to buck me and I called your bluff. You see you haven't got a prayer."

And some last energy rose up in Bernice, for she clinched her hands under the white cloth, and there was a curious narrowing of her eyes that Marjorie remarked on to some one long afterward.

Twenty minutes later the barber swung her round to face the mirror, and she flinched at the full extent of the damage that had been wrought. Her hair was not curly, and now it lay in lank lifeless blocks on both sides of her suddenly pale face. It was ugly as sin--she had known it would be ugly as sin. Her face's chief charm had been a Madonna-like simplicity. Now that was gone and she was--well, frightfully mediocre--not stagy; only ridiculous, like a Greenwich Villager who had left her spectacles at home.

As she climbed down from the chair she tried to smile--failed miserably. She saw two of the girls exchange glances; noticed Marjorie's mouth curved in attenuated mockery--and that Warren's eyes were suddenly very cold.

"You see"--her words fell into an awkward pause--"I've done it."

"Yes, you've--done it," admitted Warren.

"Do you like it?"

There was a half-hearted "Sure" from two or three voices, another awkward pause, and then Marjorie turned swiftly and with serpentlike intensity to Warren.

"Would you mind running me down to the cleaners?" she asked. "I've simply got to get a dress there before supper. Roberta's driving right home and she can take the others."

Warren stared abstractedly at some infinite speck out the window. Then for an instant his eyes rested coldly on Bernice before they turned to Marjorie.

"Be glad to," he said slowly.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

VI
Bernice did not fully realize the outrageous trap that had been set for her until she met her aunt's amazed glance just before dinner.
"Why, Bernice!"

"I've bobbed it, Aunt Josephine."

"Why, child!"

"Do you like it?"

"Why, Ber-nice!"

"I suppose I've shocked you."

"No, but what'll Mrs. Deyo think tomorrow night? Bernice, you should have waited until after the Deyos' dance--you should have waited if you wanted to do that."

"It was sudden, Aunt Josephine. Anyway, why does it matter to Mrs. Deyo particularly?"

"Why, child," cried Mrs. Harvey, "in her paper on `The Foibles of the Younger Generation' that she read at the last meeting of the Thursday Club she devoted fifteen minutes to bobbed hair. It's her pet abomination. And the dance is for you and Marjorie!"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Bernice, what'll your mother say? She'll think I let you do it."

"I'm sorry."

Dinner was an agony. She had made a hasty attempt with a curling-iron, and burned her finger and much hair. She could see that her aunt was both worried and grieved, and her uncle kept saying, "Well, I'll be darned!" over and over in a hurt and faintly hostile tone. And Marjorie sat very quietly, intrenched behind a faint smile, a faintly mocking smile.

Somehow she got through the evening. Three boys called; Marjorie disappeared with one of them, and Bernice made a listless unsuccessful attempt to entertain the two others--sighed thankfully as she climbed the stairs to her room at half past ten. What a day!

When she had undressed for the night the door opened and Marjorie came in.

"Bernice," she said, "I'm awfully sorry about the Deyo dance. I'll give you my word of honor I'd forgotten all about it."

"'Sall right," said Bernice shortly. Standing before the mirror she passed her comb slowly through her short hair.

"I'll take you down-town to-morrow," continued Marjorie, "and the hairdresser'll fix it so you'll look slick. I didn't imagine you'd go through with it. I'm really mighty sorry."

"Oh, 'sall right!"

"Still it's your last night, so I suppose it won't matter much."

Then Bernice winced as Marjorie tossed her own hair over her shoulders and began to twist it slowly into two long blond braids until in her cream-colored negligée she looked like a delicate painting of some Saxon princess. Fascinated, Bernice watched the braids grow. Heavy and luxurious they were, moving under the supple fingers like restive snakes--and to Bernice remained this relic and the curling-iron and a to-morrow full of eyes. She could see G. Reece Stoddard, who liked her, assuming his Harvard manner and telling his dinner partner that Bernice shouldn't have been allowed to go to the movies so much; she could see Draycott Deyo exchanging glances with his mother and then being conscientiously charitable to her. But then perhaps by to-morrow Mrs. Deyo would have heard the news; would send round an icy little note requesting that she fail to appear--and behind her back they would all laugh and know that Marjorie had made a fool of her; that her chance at beauty had been sacrificed to the jealous whim of a selfish girl. She sat down suddenly before the mirror, biting the inside of her cheek.

"I like it," she said with an effort. "I think it'll be becoming."

Marjorie smiled.

"It looks all right. For heaven's sake, don't let it worry you!"

"I won't."

"Good night, Bernice."

But as the door closed something snapped within Bernice. She sprang dynamically to her feet, clinching her hands, then swiftly and noiselessly crossed over to her bed and from underneath it dragged out her suitcase. Into it she tossed toilet articles and a change of clothing. Then she turned to her trunk and quickly dumped in two drawerfuls of lingerie and summer dresses. She moved quietly, but with deadly efficiency, and in three-quarters of an hour her trunk was locked and strapped and she was fully dressed in a becoming new travelling suit that Marjorie had helped her pick out.

Sitting down at her desk she wrote a short note to Mrs. Harvey, in which she briefly outlined her reasons for going. She sealed it, addressed it, and laid it on her pillow. She glanced at her watch. The train left at one, and she knew that if she walked down to the Marborough Hotel two blocks away she could easily get a taxicab.

Suddenly she drew in her breath sharply and an expression flashed into her eyes that a practised character reader might have connected vaguely with the set look she had worn in the barber's chair-- somehow a development of it. It was quite a new look for Bernice and it carried consequences.

She went stealthily to the bureau, picked up an article that lay there, and turning out all the lights stood quietly until her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Softly she pushed open the door to Marjorie's room. She heard the quiet, even breathing of an untroubled conscience asleep.

She was by the bedside now, very deliberate and calm. She acted swiftly. Bending over she found one of the braids of Marjorie's hair, followed it up with her hand to the point nearest the head, and then holding it a little slack so that the sleeper would feel no pull, she reached down with the shears and severed it. With the pigtail in her hand she held her breath. Marjorie had muttered something in her sleep. Bernice deftly amputated the other braid, paused for an instant, and then flitted swiftly and silently back to her own room.

Down-stairs she opened the big front door, closed it carefully behind her, and feeling oddly happy and exuberant stepped off the porch into the moonlight, swinging her heavy grip like a shopping-bag. After a minute's brisk walk she discovered that her left hand still held the two blond braids. She laughed unexpectedly--had to shut her mouth hard to keep from emitting an absolute peal. She was passing Warren's house now, and on the impulse she set down her baggage, and swinging the braids like pieces of rope flung them at the wooden porch, where they landed with a slight thud. She laughed again, no longer restraining herself.

"Huh!" she giggled wildly. "Scalp the selfish thing!"

Then picking up her suitcase she set off at a half-run down the moonlit street.