8 A Polly Brown's Senior Days by Nell Speed I don't know which was the most highly polished his manners or his shiny bronze face, ejaculated Judy, when the door of number five had closed upon Otoyo and her honorable father. The small, grizzled Japanese gentleman had taken tea American fashion with his daughter's quadrangle friends. With punctualicious enjoyment he had eaten everything that was offered to him. Cloudbursts, salmon sandwiches, stuffed olives, and chocolate cake. The girls had heard that raw carp was a favorite Japanese dish, and salmon being the only fish convenient, they had bought several cans of it in the village in honor of the national taste. Wasn't his English wonderful, put in Margaret? I entertained exceedingly hopes in my daughter's educationally efforts. He asked me if I were quadrangular, laughed Edith? I said no, quadrilateral. The funny part of it was that he used all those big words and spoke with such a perfect accent, and yet he didn't understand anything we said, observed Molly. All the time I was telling him how much we loved Otoyo and what a dear clever child she was, he blinked and smiled and said, indeed, is it truly exceedingly interesting. While they were laughing and discussing Otoyo's father Adele Windsor, Judy's new bosom friend walked into the room. She had formed a habit of entering their room without announcing herself, an unpardonable breach of etiquette at Wellington, as well it might be anywhere. Lately she had made herself very much at home at number five, lounging on the divan with a novel between lectures, or occupying the most comfortable chair while she dotted down notes on a tablet. Nance called her the intruder to Molly, and once she had even ventured to remark to Judy, I should think your friend would know that it's customary to knock on a door before opening it. It's because she never had any privacy, explained Judy apologetically. She was brought up in a New York flat and slept on a parlor sofa all her life until two years ago when her father began suddenly to make money. Being brought up in a parlor ought to give her parlor manners, Nance thought, but she had not voiced her thought to the sensitive Judy who really had not intended to force Adele Windsor on her chums. It was only that Adele had a way of taking for granted she was personal grata that Nance thought was rather too free. Molly, always polite to guess whether welcome or not, greeted Adele cordially and made her a cup of tea. We were just discussing Otogio Sen's funny little father, she explained, in order to draw Adele into the conversation. He's been here to call, the queerest English, and Molly repeated some of Mr. Sen's absurd speeches. Adele listened with interest. She was always interested in everything. One might almost say inquisitive, and she had a peculiar way of making people say things they regretted. Judy, artless soul, had told her everything she knew long ago, and now, turning her intelligent dark eyes from one to another, and occasionally putting out a pointed question, Adele succeeded in starting a new discussion on Otogio's father.  It was not until later, when the friends had scattered to tidy up for supper, that Molly felt any misgivings about having made fun of Otogio's father, and these she kept to herself, feeling, indeed, that they were unworthy of her. Adele had not left with the others. She was to remain for supper with Judy, and the two girls sat chatting together, while Molly took a catnap, and Nats began clearing away the tea-things. You shall not help, she had insisted, when Molly had offered to do her share.  Nats's manner was often brusquessed when she was tenderest, but Molly understood her perfectly. She was very tired. But with her new duties on the commune, club meetings, and the pressure of studies, the world was turning so fast she felt that she might fly off into space at any moment. Professor Green would have scolded me for trying to overdo things, she was thinking, half-sadly. Gradually her body relaxed, and her eyelids dropped. Through the midst of half-consciousness, she heard the musical rattle of the tea-things, and presently there came the catchy, rather nasal tones of Adele's voice over the clatter of China and silver. I like all your friends, Judy, they are remarkably bright. Aren't they a sparkling little coterie? answered Judy proudly. Now, Miss Wakefield is a born leader. Of course, a leader must have the gift of Gab. She's a great talker, isn't she? Takes the conversation right into her own hands, and keeps it there, doesn't she? Margaret does talk a lot, Judy admitted. Too much perhaps for anyone not deeply interested, but then, of course, I always am. Now Edith Williams is the brighter of the two, but she knows it, don't you think so? Well, I suppose she does, replied Judy reluctantly. Catherine has more surface brightness, but, of course, she's superficial, that is, compared with her sister. Edith is the brightest, said Judy. Mabel Hinton is all right, but she does dress so atrociously, and those glasses. Can you imagine how she can wear them? Molly felt suddenly hot. She flung the comfort off, and sat up impatiently. I should think Judy would have sense enough to see she's being made to discuss every friend she has, she thought. The intruder had now commenced on pretty Jessie Lynch, awfully jolly to have so many bull. Most men, crazy girls, have none, she was saying, when Molly marched into the room. She had not decided what she was going to say, but she intended to say something. How red your face is, Molly dear, observed Judy carelessly, and how fortunate that it so seldom that way went on the impertable Miss Windsor. Red faces are not becoming to red heads, that is, generally speaking, but your skin is such an exquisite texture, Miss Brown, that it doesn't matter whether it's red or white. Did you see where a girl had written to a beauty editor and asked for a cure for blushing? The editor told her that age was the only cure. Sometimes, however, one gets very good suggestions off those pages. Good hygienic suggestions, I mean. And so Adele carried the conversation along, at such a swift pace, that Molly did not have the chance to say what she had intended. She had always regarded that kind of talk with supreme contempt, praise that tapered into a sting. It would have been more honest to have given the sting without the praise, she thought, and less hypocritical and censorous. It was Adele's trick to make you agree with her, and if you did, lead you on to further and more dangerous ground, until you suddenly felt yourself placed in an awkward position of saying something unkind without you having intended it. It was strange that Judy was so blind to this trick of Adele's, but then Adele was very attractive. There was a kind of abandon about her that suited Judy's style. They had a great many tastes in common. Adele was very talented, and the two girls often went off on Sunday afternoon sketching expeditions together. Nance, I'm ashamed of myself for thinking such things, whispered Molly, on the way down to supper. But there is something almost Mestophilian about Adele Windsor. She, devil, you mean. Broken Nance bluntly, Molly laughed. Mestophilian was more high sounding. Besides, she's just like Mestophilies in Faust. She doesn't speak right out, only whispers and suggests. Innuendo is the word, isn't it? Sometimes I'm really frightened for Judy. She's awfully crushed, but she'll wake up soon enough. She always does, answered Nance carelessly. But Molly had secret misgivings in spite of Nance's assurances, and furthermore she was convinced that the crafty Adele was well aware of these misgivings and that it gave her much private enjoyment to make Molly uncomfortable. The trouble is I can't fight her with her own weapons, Molly thought. I'm not clever enough, and besides, I wouldn't if I could. After all, Boy's methods of settling disputes by drawing a circle and fighting it out are somehow much more honest.  She hypnotized Judy into putting her up for the Shakespeareans and the Ola Padreas, said Nance, and she'll get in. Nobody will dream of blackballing her. You'll see. Molly compressed her lips into a firm red line and said nothing, but she was almost led to wish that school societies did not exist at all. CHAPTER IX Miss Walker had not failed to see the stinging article against women's colleges written by Miss Beatrice Slammer for a newspaper, and when she recalled that Miss Slammer had recently spent a day at Wellington as a guest of the college under plea of gathering material, she felt somewhat embittered when, therefore, it came to her ears that the students intended to ask Miss Slammer to Wellington ostently for the purpose of hearing her views on anti-suffrage. She smiled and said nothing to anybody except Miss Pomeroy, who had raised some objections. Don't worry over it, my dear, said Miss Walker. They won't do anything to make us ashamed. It is Miss Slammer who will be ashamed. I'd rather imagine. Perhaps Miss Slammer was surprised at receiving an invitation from Wellington University after her lampoon of college girls. Whatever qualms she may have felt in writing it had been hushed to sleep with the insidious thought that the views, if not true, were at least sensational enough to catch the public eye, and this was more important to Miss Slammer than anything else. It flattered her to be asked to speak at this small but distinguished college. Of course they had never seen the article or they would never have sent the invitation. Miss Slammer had heard doubts as to whether any person outside New York ever read a newspaper, especially a lot of college girls, who had no interest beyond amateur plays and basketball, so she promptly dispatched a polite note of acceptance to Miss Julia Keane. Then, at the last moment, only a few hours before train time, her courage failed her. I can't do it, she said. I simply haven't the nerve. Do what? asked Jimmy Lufton, glancing up from his typewriter to the somewhat battered and worn counterance of Miss Slammer. Face a lot of women and talk to them about anti-sufferage. Jimmy grinned. He had the face of a mischievous skull-boy. In his eyes there lurked two little imps of adventure, while his broad and sunny smile was completely disarming. Sunny Jim was the name given him by his friends in the office, a name that still clung to him after five temptuous years of newspaper work. Would you like a substitute? he asked. I think I could give some pretty convincing arguments. What do you know about it? demanded Miss Slammer doubtfully. Did you read the article that came out last Sunday? Anti is to the front, by a wife and mother. That was me. I thought I gave a pretty fair line of argument. Jimmy, you are the limit! exclaimed Miss Slammer. Then she paused and began to think quickly. Suppose Jimmy did go up to Wellington with a letter of introduction from her and take her place. Well, why not? She was too ill to come and had sent the well-known young writer on this vital subject. She would be keeping her engagement in a way, and Jimmy would be getting a holiday and perhaps material for another story at the same time. The editor's consent was gained. See if you can't get something about basketball, he had ordered, and Jimmy dashed out of the office. The railroad ticket contributed by Wellington in one pocket and Miss Slammer's note in the other. Miss Slammer's nature was a casual one. Life had been so hard with her that she had long since grown, callous under the blows of fate, and grimly indifferent to other people's feelings. Somewhere she had heard that Jimmy Leften was a born orator. At any rate, she thought he could carry off the adventure, and her conscience was easy. At eight o'clock the next morning, when the night train from New York pulled into Wellington Station, a crowd of well-dressed young women on the platform gazed at the door of the Pullman car with expectant eyes.  Only two passengers descended from the sleeper, a middle-aged, worn-looking woman in a shabby black, and a young man whose alert-brown eyes took in at once. The crowd of college girls and Judy, replacent in velvet and plumes. Miss Slammer began Judy, intercepting the woman passenger, who was looking up and down the platform, somewhat bewildered. No, no, that is not my name. I am looking for Miss Windsor," answered the woman nervously. "'Oh,' said Judy, rather surprised, you will find her at her rooms in the Betify House.  It's quite a walk.' The woman bowed and hurried over to the bus, just as the young man with the alert-brown eyes came up, hat in hand. Judy noticed at once that his head was large and rather distinguished in outline, and that his close-cropped black hair had a tendency to curl. "'You were looking for Miss Slammer,' he asked, speaking to Judy, whose face, as the train receded, showed mingled feelings of disappointment and anger. "'Oh, yes,' she replied, startled somewhat at being addressed by a strange young man. She couldn't come, and I came down as a substitute,' he went on, handing her the note hastily dashed off by the intrepid Beatrice. Judy's eyes only half took in the words of the note. She read it silently and passed it on to the rest of the delegation. "'A man,' she thought, now isn't that too much? Everything is ruined. We can't teach Miss Slammer a lesson in politeness through a proxy. "'I hope it's all right,' Jimmy began, watching Judy's face with undisguised admiration. "'Oh, yes,' she answered hastily. "'We are very glad to see you, Miss Slammer.' Jimmy broke into his inimitable laugh. "'My name is Lufton,' he said, and the mistake seemed so funny that Judy left and everybody felt more at ease immediately. "'We were to have had you up to breakfast. I mean Miss Slammer,' Judy stammered. "'I'll get something or somewhere,' said Jimmy in a reassuring tone. "'There's an inn in Wellington Village,' suggested one of the girls. "'Miss Slammer was scheduled to speak at three o'clock this afternoon,' began Judy. "'And am I banished to the village all that time?' Jimmy broke in. "'You don't bar men from the grounds, do you? I'd like to look around the place a little.' "'No, indeed, this isn't a convent. If you will come up to the quadrangle after breakfast we'll be delighted to show you the buildings and the cloisters. Whatever would interest you?' "'Thanks awfully,' said Jimmy, and presently they watched him stroll off up the road to the village whistling as gaily as a schoolboy. There were scores of faces at the windows of the quadrangle when the special bus drew up at the archway. She didn't come, Judy called to a group of girls lingering in the tower room. "'A man came. Young or old,' cried a half-dozen voices. "'Young and passing fair,' said Jesse. Passing dark, you mean. He had black hair. "'But where is old Miss Slammer?' demanded Edith Williams. "'Old Miss Slammer was afraid to face the music, I suppose. Anyway, she sent Mr. James Lofton down to take her place, and he is at present breakfasting in the village. "'Somehow all the sweetness has gone out of revenge,' exclaimed Edith. "'I foresee that nobody will be willing to practice the freeze-out on an innocent man, passing fair, if he is a substitute. Well, he's coming up this morning to be shown around college. If anyone wants to take the job of showing him, I'm willing to resign my place. Anybody who is willing to do the freeze-out at, I mean. I don't think it will be easy. He has a way of laughing that makes other people laugh. You couldn't be mean to him if you tried.' Already Judy had unconsciously sent herself the task of protecting Mr. James Lofton from the fate planned for Miss Slammer. "'Aren't we to listen in cold silence when he makes his speech?' asked a girl. "'Of course,' put in Margaret. You couldn't listen in any other way to a speech against suffrage. I shan't applaud him. I know. If he represents Miss Slammer, like as not, he shares her views about college girls too, and is just as deserving as she is to a plight freeze-out. It was a mad scheme from the first, put in Catherine Williams. I never did approve of it. I don't imagine such a subtle revenge would have had the slightest effect on Miss Slammer. We intend to have our revenge quite a dozen voices, followers of Margaret. In the midst of the hot argument that followed this statement, Judy hurried off to Betify House to eat her share of the fine breakfast some of the girls there had undertaken to give to the enemy of women's colleges. She felt that things looked pretty black for Mr. James Lufton. Running upstairs to Adele Windsor's rooms she knocked on the door impatiently. It was quite two minutes before it was cautiously opened by Adele, whose face looked flushed, and there were two white dents at the corners of her mouth. "'I heard she didn't come,' Adele began, without waiting for Judy to speak. "'Let's go down to breakfast. We're late as it is.' She closed the door with a slam and pushed Judy in front of her towards the stairs. "'By the way, did a visitor find you?' asked Judy. She inquired where you lived at the station. "'Oh yes, just a woman on business, about some clothes,' she added carelessly. Dressmakers are dreadful nuisances sometimes. Judy said nothing, but it occurred to her that Adele must be a very good customer for a dressmaker to come all the way to Wellington to consult her. While the Betify girls and their guests were breakfasting in the paneled dining room, the little women in shabby black came softly out of Adele's rooms and tiptoed downstairs. Under cover of the noise of laughter and talk, she opened the front door and went out. Jimmy Lufton saw her later at the inn in the village, where she had coffee and toast and inquired the hour for the next train to New York. Jimmy himself was occupied in jotting down notes on an old envelope. "'If it makes me laugh, I should think it would make them,' he chuckled to himself. End of Chapter 9 Chapter No. 10 of Molly Brown's Senior Days, by Nell Speed. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The polite frees out. They had seen the cloisters and the library and the hall of science, and all the showplaces at Wellington, and now Miss Julia Kane and Mr. James Lufton might be seen strolling across the campus in the direction of the lake. It was one of those hazy, mid-automal days, whether cold nor hot, a blue mist clothed the fields, and hung like a canopy between sun and earth. Judy had changed her best velvet for a walking skirt, and a red sweater and Jimmy Lufton glanced at her with admiration from time to time. "'It's a mighty-becoming way of dressing, you young ladies have here,' he said. "'Those sweaters and Tamashanters are prettier to me than the fittest clothes on Fifth Avenue.' "'Then you don't agree with Miss Slammer?' asked Judy. "'I probably don't, but, as it happens, I never asked her opinion. "'You don't know what Miss Slammer thinks of college girls, the way they dress and talk?' Jimmy hesitated. As a matter of fact, he had never seen the libelious article by Miss Slammer. He had been absent in a remote village in the mountains, writing a murder trial when the article had appeared. Therefore, he was not suspicious of Judy's unexpected question. "'I can tell you what I think of college girls,' he went on, as they neared the edge of the lake. "'I think they are the jolliest, most natural, interesting, wholesome, best-looking, companiable.' Judy began to blush. He was looking straight at her as he delivered himself of this stream of adjectives. "'Would you like to canoe a little?' she asked, changing the subject. "'Would I,' exclaimed Jimmy, with a sudden boyish expression that made his face so attractive. "'I should rather think I would. I haven't had the chance to paddle a canoe since I left college. It was just the day for canoeing. The surface of the lake was as smooth as glass, except where the paddles of the other canoeists stirred its placid surface into little ripples and miniature waves. Judy thought it would be nice, too. She was enjoying herself immensely, with this lecturer who looked like a boy without any of a boy's diffidence. "'Do you lecture often?' she asked. When they had settled themselves in the canoe, and he was paddling, with a skill she recognized as far from being amateur. "'I don't mind making speeches,' answered Jimmy. "'I made a lot of them the last campaign. Cartel speeches, they are called. Only our cart was an automobile. There were four or five of us who toured the east side and took turns talking to the crowds. "'I should think you'd be a politician instead of a writer on anti-suffrage,' remarked Judy. Jimmy grinned as he shot the canoe toward the center of the lake. "'Is that what I'm credited as being?' he asked. "'A well-known writer on the subject,' quoted Judy. "'If I had read that note over, I think I would have been tempted to scratch out the well-known,' he said, especially as the only article I ever wrote was signed, a wife and a mother.' Judy's eyes darkened. Was Miss Slammer to libel them and then send down an imposter to make fun of them? Her impressionable mind was as subject to as many changes as an April day, and a recent pleasure in Mr. Lofton society changed to displeasure, as a suspicion clouded her thoughts. "'You had a good deal of courage to come to Wellington then,' she observed after a pause. "'At least we think you did after what Miss Slammer wrote about us.' A hunting-dog on the scent of quarry was not keener than Jimmy when he came to senting out news, and it took about five minutes of careful and skillful questioning for Judy to explain the entire situation. By Jove, but that was, like old Beatrice, to send me down here into a hornet's nest,' he thought.  I assure you I didn't know anything about the article,' he said aloud to Judy. "'I only came to accommodate Miss Slammer.' She told me yesterday at the office she was ill. "'Then you aren't a lecturer or a writer, broken Judy?' "'Miss Slammer and I work on the same paper. Didn't she say that in the letter?' Judy shook her head. "'I'm afraid you'll think I'm an imposter, Miss Keen, but I had no intention of sailing under false colors. I think I better take the next train back to New York and give up the lecture. It would be better to run away before I'm frozen out, don't you think so?' Judy was silent for a moment. Her rage against Mr. James Lufton had entirely disappeared, and she again had that feeling that she would like to protect him from the wrath to come. "'What is a polite freeze-out exactly?' Jimmy asked.  Jimmy laughed. "'A sort of glacial exit, I suppose? It makes me chilly to think of it. Miss Slammer had a lucky escape. They were paddling now in the very center of the upper lake, but so absorbed were they in their conversation that they had scarcely noticed a canoe in front of them. Suddenly there came a cry, a splash, and then a moment of perfect stillness, followed by a confused sound of voices from the shore. The next instant Judy saw in front of them an upturned canoe and two heads just rising above the water. Before she had time to realize the danger, Jimmy Lofton had torn off his coat, flung his hat into the bottom of the canoe, and, with a carefully planned leap, had cleared the side of the canoe, sending it spinning over the water, shaking and quivering like a frightened animal. And now Judy beheld him swimming with long strokes toward the place where the two heads had appeared, disappeared, and once more reappeared. In that flash of a moment she recognized the blonde plates of Margaret Wakefield and the wet curls of Jesse Lynch. As she mechanically paddled towards the struggling figures, she remembered that Jesse could not swim a stroke, and that Margaret could only swim under the most favorable circumstances in a shallow tank. He can't hold both of them up at once, thought Judy, with a throb of fear as she frantically beat the water with her paddle in her effort to reach them. For a moment Jimmy himself was in a quandary. It looked as if he would have to let one girl go to save the other. When he saw one of the canoe paddles floating within reach, he gave it a swift push towards the struggling Margaret. Put that under your arms and go slow, he shouted, and made for Jesse. In two strokes he had caught her by her coat collar, and was swimming swiftly toward the upturn canoe. Even in the water Jesse's irresistible attraction had prevailed. The girls said afterward when they could discuss this almost tragic event with calmness. Hold on tight to the canoe, little girl, he said, and turn toward Margaret, who was all but exhausted now. He caught her just as she was sinking, and held her up until a rowboat from shore reached them. Margaret was pulled in, with much difficulty owing to her large bulk, and at last Jimmy, feeling a trifle weary himself, returned to Jesse and helped her into another boat. She was still sufficiently herself to achieve a small thanks to the handsome young man who had saved her life. It was all over in a flash, and yet it seemed as if the entire college of Wellington could be seen running across the campus to the lakeside. By the time the half-drowned trio reached land, Miss Walker herself was there looking frightened and pale. The girls were to go straight to the quadrangle, be rubbed down with alcohol, and put to bed. As for the brave young man who had saved their lives, he was to be taken to the infirmary where he could be made comfortable while his clothes were being dried. When Jimmy Lofton, dripping like a sea-god, found himself in the centre of a group of beautiful young ladies all eager to show him honour as they hurried him along to the infirmary, he gave a low, assumed chuckle. I hope I've squared myself with them now, he thought, and though be no polite freeze-out for me, and no lecture either, thank heavens. While a delegation of three went to the village in, and ordered his suitcase sent up to the infirmary, another delegation made him a heart lemonade in the infirmary pantry, and a third went to the flower store in the village and purchased a huge bunch of violets. This was laid on his lunch tray with a card from the senior class of 19, in grateful recognition of your brave deed, and so the world goes. He who is down one day is up the next, and Jimmy who was to have been the victim of a blithing freeze-out by the Wellington students was now an object of thunder, affection. There came to Mr. Lofton that afternoon a note stating that if he were quite recovered, meaning my clothes thought Jimmy, the students of the quadrangle would be glad to have him dine with them that evening at six thirty. I do feel like a blooming hypocrite, he exclaimed to himself remorsefully. Here I came down to Wellington at their expense to give them a fake lecture, and they are treating me like a king. But he accepted the invitation, trusting to luck that his clothes would be dry, and tipping the infirmary cloak to press his trousers and black his shoes. At half past six then Jimmy appeared at the quadrangle archway. He wore some of the violets in his buttonhole, and his keen dark eyes shone with suppressed humor. A delegation of seniors met him and conducted him back to the dining hall, where several hundreds of young persons all in the very best stood up to receive him. A seat of honour was given to him at the end of the long table, and every girl in the room liked him immensely, not only for his broad, jolly smile, but because at the end of dinner he arose, and, without the slightest embarrassment, made the most deliciously funny speech ever heard. Then the walls resounded with the college yell, ending with, What's the matter with Mr. Lufton? He's all right. Who's all right? Lufton, Lufton, James, Lufton. Never was one unknown and entirely unworthy individual more honoured. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Of Molly Brown's Senior Days By Nell Speed Des Librevox Recording Is In The Public Domain The Ways of Providence Providence had not gone to such lengths to bring Jimmy Lufton to Wellington and set him in the good graces of the college without some purpose. It was not only that he had been sent in time to save two prominent seniors from drowning, but Jimmy's destiny was henceforth to weave itself like a brightly coloured thread in and out of the destinies of some of Wellington's daughters. Wherever Jimmy went he brought with him gaiety and goodwill. The sympathy and charm of his nature had made him so many friends that, of himself, he did not know the number. And now he had come down to Wellington and made a host of new ones eager to show him how much Wellington thought of courage. On Sunday morning Jimmy not only met Dodo Green and Andy McClain, but he was led in and introduced to Professor Green, now sitting up against a backrest. There was an expression of ineffable happiness on the Professor's face, because his bed had been moved near the window, where he might catch a glimpse of the campus and of an occasional group of students strolling under the trees. Such are the simple pleasures of the convalescent. Furthermore Jimmy had met Miss Alice Fern, immaculate in white linen, and now he was carried off to the McClain's to breakfast, where he was to meet Molly Brown. This was Molly's first glimpse of the famous hero. She had not gone down to dinner the evening before, having remained with Nance to minister to the wants of Margaret and Jesse. Nance and Judy were at the breakfast too, and Otoyo-sen, and Lawrence Upton, who had come over on the trolley from Exmoor. It was indeed a meeting of old friends, and the genial doctor gave them a gruff and hearty welcome, as they gathered in the drawing-room. Good morning to you, he said, rubbing his hands and beaming on them from under his shaggy eyebrows. I'm very glad to see the lads and lassies once more. The wife was only saying last week that in another year they'd be scattered to the four ends of the earth. And is this the young lad who picked up the drowning lassies out of the lake? Shake hands, boy! It was a brave and bony thing to do. Any man would have done it in my place, doctor, said Jimmy, grasping the big hand warmly. Not any man, but some would. Andy and Larry, I make no doubt, and that while Buffalo, Dodo. Dodo didn't mind being called a while Buffalo by the doctor, if only he was given the credit of courage at the same time. But Mrs. McLean objected.  You know I won't permit it at all. Don't scold him, Mrs. McLean, said Dodo. I think it's better to be called a while Buffalo than a wild boar. A boar is never wild. If that's the kind you mean, answered Mrs. McLean, that's why they are boars, because they are so tame. Mither, mither, put in the doctor laughing. How you go on, as if you'd like him any way, but tame. She's a great talker, Mr. Lufton, as you'll perceive before the morning's half over. But she doesn't mean the half, she says, like every other woman under the sun. Jimmy laughed. How delightful it was to him to be among these gay, simple-hearted people who found a good deal of enjoyment in life without the aid of things he had been accustomed to. Presently he heard Andy McLean's voice saying, Miss Brown, Mr. Lufton, and turning quickly he confronted a tall slender girl with very blue eyes and red gold hair. Miss Brown smiled a heavenly smile and gave him her hand. I'm glad to meet you, she said. I've been hearing a great deal about you in the last few hours. The soft musical quality of her voice stirred Jimmy's soul. It's like the harp in an orchestra. When a hand sweeps over the harp's settings, you can hear it above all the trumpets and drums. It's so ineffably sweet. Only there's never enough of it. All this Jimmy thought, as he exchanged Molly's greetings. Are you from the South? He asked later when he found himself beside her at the breakfast table. I'm from Kentucky, she answered promptly and proudly. So am I. He almost shouted, and then he exchanged new glasses of deeper interest and presently were plunged in a conversation about home. Jimmy forgot that Judy, his sponsor at Wellington, sat at his right hand, and Molly was oblivious to Laurence Upton on her left. I suppose you never get any cornbread here, Jimmy asked. Not our kind, replied Molly. What they have here is made a fine meal with sugar in it. Jimmy made a rye face. Wouldn't you like to have some fried chicken with cream gravy, he whispered? And some candied sweet potatoes and corn pones and pear pickle, Molly broke in. And hot biscuits. But what shall we finish off with, Miss Brown? Brandy peaches and ice cream and hickory nut cake. Jimmy gave a delightful laugh. That's a good old home dessert I used to get at Grandma's, he said. At least the peaches and the ice cream were. She always had cupcake with frosted icing. Do you ever have kidney hash and waffle Sunday mornings nowadays? Asked Molly. I haven't had any for years, Miss Brown. But at the restaurant where I get breakfast, I do get batty cakes and molasses. Batty cakes, repeated Molly.  Do you know I've always said that too, just because I learned to say it, that way as a child. And hook and laddy wagon. I can't seem to break myself of the habit. Don't try, said Jimmy. I'd rather hear the good old talk than Bernhardt speaking French. And so from food they came to discuss pronunciation, as most Southerners do sooner or later. And from that subject they drifted into mutual friendships, and then naturally into newspaper work. I'm a sub-editor, announced Molly proudly, and she told him about the commune and her work. Perhaps you'd like to see her office after a while, she said. I'd be only too glad, said Jimmy, delighted to be able to prolong his tet-a-tet with this gracefully angular young woman with blue eyes and red hair, who spoke with the tongue of angels, and had the same yearnings he did for cornbread and fried chicken with green gravy. And all this time something strange was taking place in Judy's mind, that she could not understand. At first she thought she was catching the grip. She felt cold and then hot and finally unreasonably irritated against everybody except Molly. At least she put it that way to herself. She never looked more charming, thought Judy to herself. Molly in her faded blue corduroy skirt and blue silk blouse was a picture to charm the eye. Judy herself looked unusually lovely in her pretty gray surge, piped in scarlet with irish lace collar and cuffs. There were glints of gold in her fluffy hair and her eyes shone with unusual brightness.  Once she had said a word or two to Jimmy Lofton, and he had turned and answered her politely and agreeably, but as soon as he decently could he was back with Molly again deep in bluegrass reminiscences. There were other people who were disgruntled that morning at Mrs. McClain's breakfast, not Nance and Andy who seemed well pleased with themselves and the bright fall day. Not the doctor nor the doctor's wife beaming at all her guests behind the silver tea urn, but Otoyo was strangely silent and averted her face from Molly's if by chance their glances met. Looked carefully over Nance's head and avoided Judy's gaze as much as possible. Lawrence Upton, too, had little to say, except to Dr. McClain at his end of the table.  Would anybody like to go over to the commune office with us? Molly vouchsafed some three quarters of an hour later when the company was breaking up. I'm going to show Mr. Lufton our offices. But nobody seemed anxious to accept.  Molly asked. No, Judy had other things to do, apparently. Won't you come, Otoyo dear?  It is not possible. I am exceedingly sorrowful, answered Otoyo, a little stiffly and drawn away from Molly's embrace. Aren't you well, little one, as Molly? Is anything the matter? Oh, exceedingly quite well, but I cannot go to day, Ms. Brown, Otoyo answered, trying to infuse a little warmth into her tone. So it ended by Molly's going off alone with the young man from New York to the commune office, where she showed him their files and the proof sent up by the printer in the village, which had to be corrected. Then she introduced him into the little alcove office, where Edith was wont to write her famous editorials. How would you like to write an article for my paper, Ms. Brown? Jimmy asked suddenly. We run a page of college news, you know. He had no idea that Molly could write, or that the paper would take anything from her if she did. He had merely talked at random and was a little taken back when Molly clasped her hands joyously, and cried, oh, and would they pay me? Of course, he answered, hoping devoutly in his heart they would. I'll tell you what you do. This is the Jubilee year at Wellington, isn't it? Yes, it's been officially announced at last. Well, you could use that as a starter, with the little of the history of Wellington and the big festival you're going to have, and then you could go on and give some talk about the girls. What you do, and all that. There could be pictures of the cloisters and the library, perhaps. What a wonderful chance to answer Ms. Slammer's article, Molly thought. It's just what we would have wanted and never dreamed of getting. It's so kind of you, she said aloud. I would be proud to do it for nothing if the paper doesn't want to pay. Oh, it'll pay you all right if it takes a story. You may get anywhere from ten to thirty-five dollars for it. Why, that's enough to buy a dress, she exclaimed involuntarily, and Jimmy decided, in his heart, that he would sell the article if he had to wear the soles off his boots, walking up and down Park Row. I suppose you'd like it simple, said Molly. Jimmy laughed.  Just tell about things as if you were writing a letter home. There it is again, thought Molly, first the Professor, and now Mr. Lufton. They finished the morning with a walk, and Jimmy Lufton entertained Molly with a hundred stories about his life in New York, and then he listened to her while she talked about college and home and her hopes. At last they parted at the quadrangle gates where Andy McClain was waiting to take Jimmy home with him to dinner, and Molly saw him no more since he was to catch the 330 train back to New York. But she had his address carefully written on a scrap of paper, and already the opening paragraph of the newspaper article was beginning to shape itself in her mind. She saw nothing of Judy until bedtime. Judy had been with her friend Adele, she said. But when the two friends parted that night, Judy flung her arms around Molly's neck and kissed her so tenderly that Molly could not help feeling a bit surprised. Since only a few hours before, Judy had seen cold somehow. A few days after Jimmy Lufton had returned to New York, he received six letters from the following persons, Margaret Wakefield, Senator and Mrs. Wakefield, Jesse Lynch, and Colonel and Mrs. Lynch. Anytime James Lufton tired of his job, he could get another from Senator Wakefield or Colonel Lynch. That was stated plainly in the letters of the two fathers. And all because of an anti-sufferage speech that was never made, thought Jimmy. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of Molly Brown's Senior Days by Nell Speed. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Friendly Rivals It is not often that rivals for the same office are champions for each other, and yet that is what happened when the seniors elected their permanent president toward the end of October. It followed that Molly, as the most popular girl in the junior class, would be elected president the next year. Of course you'll get it, Nance assured her, as the time approached.  You mean, interrupted, Nance, that Margaret wants it so badly you can't bear to deprive her of it. No, that isn't it. It's not sentiment, really, but I can't make speeches and I haven't got the organizing nature, Nance shook her head. You ought not to throw away gifts from the gods. It's as bad as hiding your light under a bushel. Nevertheless, Molly was sure she did not want the place, and she hoped Margaret would get it. As for Margaret, the spirit of a politician and the spirit of a loyal friend were struggling for mastery within her soul. The girls knew, by this time, what sort of president she could make. They were well acquainted with her powers of oratory and organization. Nobody understood as well, as she did the ins and outs of parliamentary law, how to appoint committees and chairman, and count yeas and nays. In other words, how to swing the class along in proper form. They all knew this, but hitherto it had been necessary to call it to their minds each year. When, by the sheer force of oratory, Margaret won the election. But, as luck would have it, on the day set for the election, Margaret, who had taken a deep hold from her upsetting in the lake, was too hoarse to say a word. It would have moved a heart of stone to see her, sitting in the president's chair, sucking a lemon, as she called the class to order, in a husky tone of voice, that had not the faintest resemblance to the organ she had used with such force for three years. There were only two nominations for the office of president, and it was difficult to judge toward which of the nominees the sentiment of the class leaned. Nance had nominated Molly, who had tried to drag her friend back on the bench.  Molly had exclaimed. They never would think that about you, Molly, whispered Nance. Promply had announced her candidate and the nomination was immediately seconded. Then Molly shot up blushingly and nominated Margaret Wakefield, almost taking the words out of Jesse's mouth. Margaret smiled at her rather shame-facedly, knowing full well that she would not have nominated Molly for that coveted office. Other nominations followed. Edith Williams and her sister were rival candidates for the office of vice president, and Carolyn Brinton and Nance were put up for secretary. Has anybody anything to say, asked Margaret, still sucking the lemon frantically as a last effort to clear her fog-bound voice? Molly stood up. I think I'd like to speak a few words, Madam President, she said. Then, blushing deeply and trembling in her knees, she turned towards the familiar faces of her classmates and began. I'm not much of a speech-maker, girls, and I don't know that I ever really addressed you before, but I feel I must say something in favour of my candidate, Miss Margaret Wakefield, who has made us such an excellent president for three years. There were sounds of hand-clapping and calls of here-here. Molly paused and cleared her throat. She did wish they won't interrupt until she had finished. I think we ought to remember, girls, that when we elect a president for this last year, we are choosing someone to represent us for always at class reunions and alumnae meetings and all kinds of things. When there is a distinguished visitor, it's always the senior president who has to step up and do the talking. The kind of president we want is someone with presence and dignity. We want a handsome president who dresses in good taste and can talk. Girls, Molly raised her hand as if calling upon heaven to strengthen the force of her arguments. We don't want a thin, lank president without any shape. Sounds of tumultuous laughter and the beginning of applause. One of those formless, backbondless people who can't talk and who dress in, well, rake-tags.  She's been a mighty fine president for three years, and I don't think we ought to try experiments on a new one at this stage in the game. Then there came wild applause, and Margaret presently arose and raised her hand for silence after the manner of a true speech-maker. She was much moved by what Molly had said. It was more than she herself would have been capable of doing, but she intended to speak now if it crackled her voice till doomsday. I can't talk much, girls, on account of hoarseness, but I do want to say that nobody could represent this class better than Molly Brown, the most beloved girl not only of the senior class but all of Wellington. I hope you will cast your votes for her, girls, and I'm proud to write down her name as my choice for president. Three cheers from Molly and Margaret cried Judy, always the leader of the mobs. Edith, funny and diffident, now rose and addressed the class. She said she sincerely hoped that class was not looking for a handsome plump vice-presidents, since the two candidates for that office were neither the one nor the other, but that if they placed any confidence in reg and bone and a hank of hair, she felt sure she could fit the bill just as well as the opposing candidate. Then Catherine shot up and said she could prove that she weighed a pound more than her sister, and instead of putting her allowance into books that autumn, she had laid in a stock of clothes. It was all very funny and good-natured, the most friendly close election that had ever taken place, someone said, and when the votes were counted it was found that Margaret had won by one vote and Catherine by two in excess of the other candidates. Edith and Molly locked arms and rushed over to congratulate the successful opponents. You won for me, Molly, announced Margaret, in a voice husky as much from emotion as cold. I doubt if I should have got half a dozen votes if it hadn't been for your speech, and I shall never forget it. It was what father calls a nice thing. You are the president for me, Margaret, Molly laughed. I can't see myself in that chair. Not in a thousand years. I should be all wobbly like a puppet on a throne, and I'd probably slide under the table from fright at the first class meeting. You would have adorned it far better than I would, Molly, and popularity will outweigh speech-making any day. Not but what you didn't make a fine speech. Neither Edith nor Molly felt any regrets over the election. They had all they could do to attend to the Commune, go to society meetings, and keep up their studies. That very day, too, there came a letter from Molly that added to her labors. Judy brought it up from the office below. She looked at her friend curiously, as Molly glanced at the address written in a rather large, scrawly, masculine hand. In a corner of the envelope was printed the name of a New York newspaper. Corresponding already? Judy asked. You lose no time, Molly, darling. Molly was so much occupied in tearing open the envelope that she did not notice the strained tone in Judy's voice. I'm so excited, she exclaimed, drawing out the letter. This will decide my fate. Are you ready, Judy? Called Adele Windsor, opening the door and walking in, in her usual unceremonious fashion. Her quick glance took in the envelope. Molly had flung on the table in her haste to read the note. All these southern girls, she remarked, raising her eyebrows and blinking at Judy. Molly looked up quickly. It was certainly no affair of Adele's, and she still felt like making an explanation. This is a business letter, she said quickly, the blood rushing into her face. Do business letters make one blush? Adele said teasingly. Molly could not tell why Adele irritated her so profoundly. She was ashamed afterward of what she called her unreasonable behavior. Certainly she did not appear very well in the passage of arms that now followed. It's none of your business at any rate, she exclaimed hotly, and I'm not blushing. After this outburst, she turned and walked into her room. Her face was crimson, and she knew she would have wept if she had stayed another minute, and so have been further disgraced. Really, Molly, don't you think you are rather hard on poor Adele? She heard Judy's voice, saying, but not a word of apology would she make to Adele Windsor, whose high nasal tones now came to her through the half-closed door. Never mind, I don't care, Judy, she can't help it. Didn't you ever hear about the temper that goes with redheads? Molly paid for her outburst of temper by having a headache all the afternoon, and an achy lump in her chest, indigestion, no doubt.  At last, calmed and remorseful for her hasty tongue, she opened the note again and re-read it. Dear Miss Brown, I have hypnotized the editor into accepting that article of yours. Only you must hurry up with it. It will run probably for two and a half columns on the College Notes page, and we can use three pictures. Just tell whatever you want about the college and the girls and what they do, starting off with the jubilee, as I suggested. Send it to me here by Friday, and I will appreciate it. Thank you for the wonderful time you gave me at Wellington. Sincerely, your friend, James Leften. Late that afternoon, Molly rushed over to the commune office, and seizing a pencil and paper began to write. At the top of the page she wrote, Dearest Mother. Just to make myself think it's a letter, she thought, but the words worked like a magic tailspin for the pencil traveled busily, and by suppertime she had almost finished. On the way back from the village next morning, where she had been to buy the photographs, she stopped at the bait-of-pie house and left a note on the hall table for Miss Windsor. I'm sorry I was rude to you. I suppose red-headed people have got high tempers, and henceforth I shall try to curb mine. End of Chapter 12 Chapter number 13 of Molly Brown's Senior Days by Nell Speed. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Drop of Poison Molly was very proud of her first newspaper article and exultant at being able to answer the unjust libels of Miss Slammer. She could scarcely wait to tell Nance and Judy about it, but decided to drop in at the infirmary and relayed her triumph to the professor, as if it was possible to see him. Alice Fern was on guard that morning, however, and the Swiss guards at the Vatican could not have been more formidable. I'm sure the Pope of Rome doesn't live a more secluded life, thought Molly as she departed. Glancing at the tower-clock, Molly saw that she still had three-quarters of an hour before the lecture on early Victorian poets by the professor of English literature from Exmoor, who came over several times a week to substitute for Professor Green. I think I'll run in and see Otayo a few minutes. Molly said to herself, The girls can wait. There's been something queer about Otayo lately.  I can't make her out at all. There was no response to Molly's knock on Otayo's door a few minutes later, and after a pause she opened the door and peeped in. The blinds had been drawn, an unwanted thing with the little Japanese, who usually let the sunlight flood her room through unshaded windows, but a shaft of light from the open door disclosed her seated cross-legged on the floor in front of a beautiful screen showing Fujiyama, the sacred Japanese mountain. At the foot of the screen she had placed two statues, one of St. Anthony of Padua and one of St. Francis of Assisi, presents from Mr. and Mrs. Murphy on two successive Christmases, and still another graven image caught Molly's eye as she tiptoed into the room. A small figure of Buddha seated cross-legged. He was placed at a little distance from the two saints and his antique blurred counterance contrasted strangely with the delicately molded and tinted faces of the new statues. If Molly had come unannounced upon Nance on her knees or Judy at her devotions, she would have beat a hasty retreat, but it came to her that Atoyu, sitting there cross-legged before the images of strange gods, needed help of some sort.  I knocked and you didn't hear. I'm afraid something is the matter. Won't you let me help you? I have not forgotten how you helped me once when I was unhappy.  Atoyu rose quickly, flushing a little under her dark skin. She seemed very foreign to Molly at that moment, in her beautiful embroidered kimono of black and gold. Also she seemed very formal in her manner and distant, like an exiled princess who still clings to the dignity of her former position. First she made a low Japanese bow, quite different from the little smiling nods she had learned to give her friends at Wellington. I feel much honoured, Miss Brown. Will you be seated, and I will bring refreshments. Why, Atoyu? exclaimed Molly, filled with wonder at this new phase in her friend. I don't want any refreshments. I thought I'd drop in for half an hour before English 5, and find out what has happened to you. You never come to see me any more, she added reproachfully. You haven't been since that Sunday afternoon with your father, and you always have a busy sign on your door. Are you really so busy, or are you trying to avoid us? Atoyu drew up her one chair she used for visitors, and sat down again on the floor. I have been much engaged, she said, avoiding Molly's eye. Molly noticed that her English was perfect. She spoke with great precision and avoided adverbial mistakes with painful care. She had had a great deal to think about lately, Atoyu continued, and she was reading a book of Charles Dickens, the English novelist. It was very difficult. With an impetuous gesture, Molly rose and pushed the chair out of the way. Then she sat flat on the floor beside Atoyu, and took one of the little plump brown hands in hers. Atoyu, you're unhappy. Something has happened, and you're praying to Catholic saints and Fuji and Buddha all at once. Isn't it so? The saints are very honorable gentlemen, answered Atoyu quickly. Mrs. Murphy has told me many things of their goodness, and Fuji is the mountain that brings comfort to all Japanese people. Holy men dwell on Fuji, and pilgrims climb to the summit every year to worship, and Buddha, he is a great God, she added, he is kind to lonely little Japanese girl. As she neared the end of her speech, her voice was as faint and thin as a sick child, but she steadily repressed all emotion, for no well-bred Japanese lady is ever seen to weep. Atoyu, my dear, my dear, what can have happened, cried Molly, turning the averted face toward her so that she might look into the almond-shaped eyes. I can't bear to see you so miserable. It makes me unhappy, too. Do you know that you are one of the dearest friends I have in the world, and that we all love you? It is not easy to believe that is true, said Atoyu, looking at her with an expression of mingled reproach and incredulity. I cannot believe it is so, Ms. Brown. A look of utter amazement came into Molly's face. It had never entered her head that Atoyu was angry with her. What is that? Say it again, Atoyu. I can't believe my own ears. I say it is not easy to believe that is true, said Atoyu, repeating her words with the precision of a Japanese. Molly rose to her feet and grasping Atoyu's hand, pulled her up. I can't talk sitting on the floor, Atoyu. Come over here and sit on the bed where I can look at you. Now tell me exactly what you meant by that speech. The two girls now sat face to face on the bed, and there was a look of sternness in Molly's eyes that Atoyu had never seen before. Atoyu's eyes dropped before her gaze, and she began plucking at the Japanese crepe of her kimono. You must speak, Atoyu, Molly insisted. There was a long silence, and then Atoyu looked up again. It was my father, my honorable good father. I am too humble to care, but my noble father. She rose quickly and walked across to the window. If there were tears in her eyes, Molly should not see them. Having drawn the blind, she drew a deep breath and came back to the bed. But Molly was doing some rapid thinking during that brief interval. Someone had been telling Atoyu that they had made game of her father, and that someone, but Molly was too angry to think coherently. Atoyu, she began. You know how much all of the queen's girls think of you. You are really our property, child. If any of us felt that we had hurt or grieved you, we would really never forgive ourselves. But my father, he was mocked. Of me, it was of not much matter.  It was only that we repeated his funny English, even funnier than yours, and we have often teased you about your adverbs, haven't we? Yes, omitted Atoyu, but this was made to be so cruel. It cut me, she choked. Who repeated it to you, Atoyu? asked Molly, with sudden calmness, afraid to give reign to her indignation for fear of doing rash things. People who tell things like that are quite capable of inventing them, or at least making them much worse. I have given my word not to speak the name, answered Atoyu. It was almost time for the lecture now, and Molly slipped down on her knees beside the bed and put her arms around Atoyu's waist. Dear little Atoyu, before I go, I want you to tell me that you have forgiven us. None of us meant to be cruel or unkind. We are too fond of you for that. I shall tell all the other girls what has happened, and tonight they will come in and make you an apology themselves. We will all come. As for the girl who made the trouble, she is a wicked mischief-maker, and I wish she had never come to Wellington. And now, will you say, Molly, I forgive you? I do, I do, cried Atoyu. Her face transformed with happiness. I should not have listened to her ugly speeches. But it was the way she did it. She told me my father had been mocked, and ridiculed. I was very unhappy. Never, never let her get her clutches on you again, said Molly, opened in the door. Never, never, never repeated the Japanese girl. It was a real reconciliation, surprise party that took place in Atoyu's room that evening. All the Queen's girls were there, except Judy, who had been absent for a whole day, having cut two lectures and taken supper with Adele Windsor at Beide Pie House. It had been agreed among them that Adele should never be welcomed in their circle again, for they were morally certain that it was Adele who had done the mischief, although Atoyu loyally kept her word not to tell the name. Atoyu, bewildered and happy over the avalanche of company, toddled about the room in her soft house slippers, looking for refreshments. From strange, foreign-looking packing boxes in the closet, she produced ten cases of candy ginger and pineapple, boxes of rice cakes, nuts and American chocolate creams, which Atoyu liked better than the daintiest American dish that could be devised. Every guest had brought Atoyu a gift of flowers. They made her sit in the armchair while they circled around her, singing, old friends are the best friends, the friends that are tried and true. Then they made her dress up in her finest kimono and sit cross-legged at the foot of the bed, while one by one they filed before her and each made a humble apology. Oh, it is too much, Atoyu cried. I implore you forgive me. It was madly of me to listen so much weakness. Humble little Japanese girl is bad to entertain such meanly thoughts. At last, when all the rites and ceremonies were over, and they had settled down to refreshments, in good earnest Edith began the tale of the fall of the house of Usher, which she recited in thrilling fashion. The girls all was huddled together in a frightened group at this performance. At the most dramatic moment, as if it had been timed purposely, the door was flung open, and a tall lady in black stood on the threshold. She hesitated a moment and then sailed in.  Then she flung a lace mantilla from her head and stood before them, revealed as Judy in a black wig, apparently. Judy Keen, what have you been up to? asked Nance suspiciously. Where did you get your black wig? demanded Molly. Don't you think it becoming? asked Judy. Don't you think it enhances the whiteness of my skin and the brightness of my eye? All very well for a fancy dress party, but you don't look yourself, Judy. Do take it off. Now don't say that, answered Judy, because I can't take it off without cutting it. I've changed the color. That's where I've been all day. It's awfully exciting. You've no idea how many things you have to do to change your hair dark. Of course, it's perfectly ladylike to make it dark. It's only bad form to dye it light. Judy, you haven't, they cried. I certainly have. She answered carelessly, and she proceeded to take out all the hairpins from her fluffy thick hair and let it down. It's Raven black. It was, in fact, an unnatural blue black, something the color of shoe blacking. Oh, Judy, Judy, what will you do next? cried Molly in real distress. What will that girl make her do next? put in dance in a disgusted tone. Now, Nance, I knew you'd say just that, but it's not true. I did it of my own free will.  What will Miss Walker say? asked someone. She probably won't know anything about it. I doubt if she remembers the original color of my hair, anyhow. I'm sorry you don't think it's becoming to me. Adele thought it suited me perfectly, much better than the original mousy brown shade. I recognize Adele's fine touch in that expression, mousy brown, put in Edith. Did Adele do anything to change her appearance? asked Margaret. Oh, no, she is just right as she is. Her hair is a perfect shade. Tation brown. It's called. But girls, I must tell you about the marvelous face cream. cucumber velvet. It bleaches and heals at the same time. Oh, go to cried Catherine. Judy, you are so benighted. I don't know what's coming to you. Don't you know that Adele Windsor made a toio here? No, no, broken a toio. I never have told the name. I give my honorable promise not to. I beg you not to mention it. What's all this? Judy began, when the ten o'clock bell boomed and the girls scattered to their various rooms. That night, undressing in the dark, Nance and Molly explained to Judy what had happened. But are you sure she did it? Judy demanded. A toio never said so, did she? No, but we are sure, anyway. I don't believe it, exclaimed Judy hotly. Adele is the soul of honor. I shall never believe it, unless a toio really tells the name. And so Judy went off to bed entirely unreasonable about this new and fascinating friend.  But do you remember that old poem we used to sing as children? I'm sure you must have known it. Most children have. Then Molly recited in her musical clear voice. I once had a sweet little doll, Dears, the prettiest doll in the world. Her cheeks were so red and so white, Dears, and her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost my poor little doll, Dears, as I played on the heath one day, and I cried for her more than a week, Dears, but I never could find where she lay. I found my poor little doll, Dears, as I played in the heath one day. Folks say she is terribly changed, Dears, for her paint is all washed away, and her arm trodden off by the cow's, Dears, and her hair not the least bit curled. Yet for old sakesake she is still, Dears, the prettiest doll in the world. Humpf! said Judy. Is that the way you feel about it? Yes.  End of chapter 13. Chapter 14 Of Molly Brown's Senior Days By now speed, this LibraVox recording is in the public domain. Judy Defiant When Judy Keane appeared at chapel next morning, she seemed serenely unconscious of the sensation she was creating.  The quadrangle dining room had already buzzed with the news of Judy's reckless act, and now as the seniors marched two by two up the aisle after the faculty, a ripple of laughter swept over the chapel. Necks were craned all over the room to see Judy's mop of blue black hair, arranged in a loose knot on the back of her neck, drawn well down over the forehead in a heavy, dark mantle, carefully concealing the ears. But Miss Walker was not pleased with the liberties Judy had taken with her appearance. She had heard the ripple of laughter, stifled almost as soon as it had commenced, and having reached her chair and faced the audience, while the procession was still on its way up the aisle, she noticed the amused glances directed towards Judy's head. It took only a second glance to assure herself of what Judy had done, and she frowned and compressed her lips. When the service was over, she made a little impromptu address to the students. College, she said, was a place for serious work, and not for frivolity. Of course there were no objections to innocent fun, but absurdities would not be tolerated. All the time she was speaking she was looking straight at Judy, who, with Chen resting on her hand and eyelids drooped, apparently read a hymn book. That afternoon Miss Julia King received a summons to appear at Miss Walker's office, immediately. From this interview, Judy emerged in a stubborn, angry humor. Miss Walker was a wise woman in her generation, but she had never had a girl of Judy's temperament to deal with before. Judy's rather contemptuous indifference had inflamed the president into saying some rather harsh things. If one girl dyed her hair, a great many others might. Such things often struck a college in waves, and she was not going to tolerate it. Therefore Judy, unreasonably angry, as she always was under reproof, had no word to say to her anxious friends awaiting her at number five quadrangle. Was it very bad, Judy dear? Nancy asked, when Judy walked into the room, white and silent. It was worse than that, replied Judy, in a steady, even voice. If she had given me twenty lashes on my bare shoulders, I should have liked it better. What business is it of hers? What color I turn my hair? This is not a boarding school. I detest her. Whereupon she slammed her door and the girls did not see her again for several hours. When she finally did emerge, she was calm and smiling, but the girls felt instinctively that her dangerous mood had not passed, only deepened, and Molly felt she would give a great deal to win her friend away from the mild line influence of Adele Windsor. It seemed to her sometimes that Judy was cherishing a secret grievance against her as well as against Miss Walker. But Molly had little time for brooding over such things in the daytime, and at night sleep overtook her as soon as her tired head dropped on the pillow. A great many things were in the air at Wellington just now. A prize had been offered for the best suggestion for a jubilee entertainment. It was only ten dollars, but every girl in college competed except Judy. One morning Adele Windsor's name was posted on the bulletin board as winner of the prize, and not long afterward they learned that it was Judy's scheme unfolded on the opening night of college that Adele had appropriated no doubt with Judy's full consent. Molly's exchange of brief notes with Jimmy Lufton had ripened into a correspondence, and she was prepared therefore for the enormous package containing at least a dozen Sunday newspapers that came to her one morning, also a check for fifteen dollars. With eager fingers she tore wrappers from the papers and began to search through multitudinous columns for her article about Wellington. At last, with Nancy's and Judy's help, she found it, not tucked away in a corner as she had half expected, but spread out over the page. It is true the pictures were rather blurred, but there were the columns of writing, all hers, so she fondly believed. So skillfully had Mr. Lufton wrought the changes he had been obliged to make. The article was signed MWCB, and a framed copy of it hangs, to this day, on the crowded walls of the commune office. There was not much doubt who MWCB was, and Molly was deluged with calls and congratulations all day. It was glorious to have been the means of refuting Miss Beatrice Slammer's criticisms, and she could not help feeling very proud as she hurried down the avenue to the infirmary, one of the papers tucked under her arm, devoutly hoping that Alice Fern had gone home by now. It was reported that the Professor was walking about, and in a few days was to go to Bermuda, to stay until after the Christmas holidays. The Professor himself, and not Miss Fern, opened the door for Molly, before Miss Grace Green, reading aloud by the window, could remonstrate with him. He was a mere ghost of his former self, pale emaciated. His clothes seemed three sizes too big for his wasted frame, and he had grown quite bald around the temples. Molly thought him very old that afternoon. I've brought something to show you, she said, after she had shaken hands with the brother and sister, and the three had drawn up their chairs by the window. Then Miss Grace Green read the article aloud, and Molly explained that it was Mr. Lofton, to whom they were already so deeply indebted, who had arranged to get it published. I took him over to the commune office, said Molly, and that started it. Mrs. Green smiled, and the Professor shifted uneasily in his chair. Presently Miss Green rose. It's time for your buttermilk, Edwin, and you and I shall have some tea, Miss Molly, she added, as she slipped out of the room. Tell me a little about yourself, Ms. Molly, observed the Professor, when they were left alone. Did you have a pleasant summer, and how is the old orchard? Oh, the orchard was most shamefully neglected, replied Molly, simply a mass of weeds and the apples left rotting on the ground all this fall. So Mother writes, William, our colored man, cut down the worst of the weeds with a scythe last summer, and I kept the ground cleared where the hammock hangs. It's been such a rainy summer, I suppose that's why things grew so rank. But I'm sorry the old gentleman is neglecting his property after making such a noble start. The Professor laughed. You have made the acquaintance of the owner then, he asked. Oh no, we have never even learned his name. But I feel quite sure he is very old. Sometimes I seem to see him in the orchard, an old, old man leaning on a stick. I think he is old and eccentric, because a young man would never have bought property he has never seen. Can't a young man be eccentric? Oh yes, but Mother and my brothers and sisters, all of us believe this man is old from something the agent said. He told Mother that the new owner of the orchard had bought it because he was looking for a retired spot in which to spend his old age. Again the Professor laughed and the color rose in his face and spread over his cheeks and forehead. Presently Miss Green returned with the tea things and the buttermilk. Has Miss Fern gone, as Molly?  She really need not have been here at all. The infirmary nurse would have looked after Edwin, but she seemed to think she was indispensable. Grace, my dear sister, remonstrated the Professor. From Miss Fern the talk drifted to many things. Molly told them more of Jimmy Lofton, how he had charmed everybody, and what a wonderful life he led in New York. I should like to be on a newspaper, she said suddenly. It would be lots more exciting than teaching school. The Professor looked up quickly. I should be sorry to see you take that step, Miss Molly. Well, I haven't taken it yet, but I was only thinking that Mr. Lofton might be a great deal of help to me. You must not, said the Professor sternly. Don't think of it for a moment. The Commune is putting ideas into your head. Or this, Mr. Lofton. Molly felt uncomfortable for some reason, and Miss Green changed the subject. By the way, she said, I heard the other day what had become of some of the luncheon.  The thieves probably took all they could carry with them, and dumped the rest in a field between Exmore and Roundhead. Like as not, they picnic on top of Roundhead. Some of the Exmore boys found a pile of desiccated sandwiches and hard boiled eggs and cake one day when they were out walking, and Dodo and Andy brought the story to me. Think of the waste of it, exclaimed Molly. They might have at least given what they didn't want to the poor. There aren't any poor people around there, child. Well, to Mrs. Murphy, then. She's poor and we wouldn't have minded having worked so hard to feed Mrs. Murphy. I wonder who did it, put in the Professor? None of the Exmore boys, I'm sure, said his sister, who had a very soft spot for the boys of her younger brother's college. Someday it will come out, announced Molly. Things always do sooner or later, and we needn't bother about playing detective. It's a horrible role to act, anyway. I remember when I was a boy at college, began the Professor. Some fellows played, rather, a nasty practical joke on some of us, and they were caught by a trick of fate. On the night of the senior class elections, which always take place just before a banquet at the Exmore Inn, some of the students broke into the inn kitchen, masked, overpowered the cook, and the waiter, and stole all the food they conveniently could carry away. One of the saucepans contained lobster, and the next morning there were six very ill young men at the infirmary with petomane poisoning, and it was not hard to guess who were the thieves of our supper. Were they punished, asked Molly? Oh yes, Exmore never permits escapades like that. They were suspended for six weeks, although they had saved the entire school senior class from a pretty severe illness. At least you might have felt some gratitude for that, observed Miss Green. We did, but the President took only a one-sided view of the matter. I'm afraid it's too late for attacks of indigestion from our lunch, observed Molly. The only thing out of common we had at the lunch were snaky noodles. What in the world? asked the brother and sister together. It doesn't sound very appetizing, does it? But they are awfully good. Our old cook makes them at home. They are coils of very rich pastry with raisins and cinnamon all through. Don't mention it, exclaimed the Professor, whose appetite was greater than his official allowance of food. I would give anything for a hot snaky noodle with a glass of milk. When you come back from Bermuda, I'll see that your wish is gratified, replied Molly, laughing as she rose to go. Miss Molly, said the Professor, as he bade her good-bye at the door. I wish you would promise me three things. Don't overwork. Don't make plans to work on a newspaper instead of teaching school. And don't forget me. I'm not likely to do that, Professor. I'm always wanting to go to your office and ask you questions and advice. The last time we were there, Dodo and I, I found two old rotten apples. I took the liberty of throwing them away. It's too bad for good apples to be left rotting on the ground or anywhere, said the Professor, and he closed the door softly. While this surely was a very simple statement, somehow he seemed to mean more than he said. Just why Molly's thoughts were on the lost snaky noodles as she walked up the campus, she could not say. She recalled that they had been carefully done up, in a box marked on top in a large print, snaky noodles from Aunt Maya Barton. That was the brown's cook. I wonder if they were left with the half of the lunch in Exmore Meadow, she thought, with fond regret for the wasted gift of their old-colored cook, who had taken unusual pains to make the snaky noodles as crusty and delicious as possible. So path is snaky noodles and all good things, she said to herself, as she entered the quadrangle. End of Chapter 14


Hey there YouTube, this is John Hammond with another Pico CTF 2018 video This challenge is the in-and-out error for 275 points has a lot of solves It's just the general skills category and I don't see this challenge as that hard Maybe it's just I don't know something that I've got to learn about Linux like all the while I've been using it so it wasn't difficult, but uh, whatever the challenge won't is can you utilize or? Utliz utlize Standard incident out and send an error to get the flag from this program You can also find it at this location in the shell server. So let's go ahead and download it and play with it I've got a terminal open here. So let's W get this file here and We can mark it as executable because it is just a binary when we run it It says hey there if you want the flag ask nicely floored Please enter the phrase please may have the flag Okay, that's fine enter that thank you for asking so nicely floating point exception and core dumped Maybe this doesn't have the exact same functionality on My computer as it does on yours. I don't know I think it's because it needs a fake flag to be able to read out and work with So if I were to have like my own flag That's maybe the program could open up and use then it could probably handle this But otherwise it gives me that floating point exception. Okay, so it looks like there's a lot of garbage coming out there So let's use the real like binary that's on the shell server. So I just want to copy that location And I will go ahead and SSH over there as soon as I get my touchpad to play nicely with me So I will just SSH in Go ahead and enter the password For your account and then change directory to that location that already has a flag dot text in there that we can't read We have to use the binary for but I'm assuming that's what the issue was earlier So if I run it now on the shell server with their flag try and run the in and out error program It says please may I have the flag? Into centered input and it gives us all that nonsense. So we can take advantage of this, right? It's not too hard to simply pipe in or echo some standard output into the standard input of another program So let's do that. Let's just echo. Please. May I have the flag and now that that's on standard input We can pipe it that vertical bar the shift formation of the backslash right above your enter key Into the in and out error program. So now it will give us all that information Took a little bit of time and now it's a lot of garbage though, right? So we want to Work through this and see what we're dealing with so and inkling or maybe a good guess or estimation is that well If it's telling us to deal with the three standard streams standard input being number zero Standard output being number one file descriptor and standard error being number two We can work with these while we're getting information out of a program, right? If I said I want standard error So I would say just the number two following the program or the command that I'm trying to run And we can redirect it with that greater than symbol or the walk-a-walk-a to a different location If we put it to DevNol, which is just kind of a digital trash can on your Linux computer or a bit bucket there It'll all go away and it won't be visible. So now we get only standard output visible to us And we are gifted. Thank goodness.  Let's try our other option. Let's try standard output And that's the file descriptor number one we direct that to DevNol and now we get a lot of nonsense here But clearly this is the flag. It says Pico CTF piping is a thing and then some hex identifier So my flag will be just different than yours. Let's go ahead and submit this right? We solved it. We got the flag. If you want to we can take note of it And remove our fake flag or one that we use locally to test But please do subscribe. I dig that and we can mark that challenge as complete, right? Not too difficult. If you want to automate something to connect to the shell server and then run that command and do it all You are more than welcome to but I don't think it's necessary for this video. Just a simple Hey pipe in some standard input like redirect some standard error and or standard output in this case and just read on standard error interesting thing Thank you guys for watching. Hope you enjoyed this one before I go I want to give a quick shout out to the people that support me on patreon cannot thank you guys enough $1 a month or more on patreon will give you a special shout out just like this I know it's not a lot just a little bit of that feel-good feeling get your name up in lights helping a helping out a dude Just you know get some air and feel good fives So $5 a month on patreon a little bit extra, right? Not a whole lot But just gets you the early access content that I release in a shared Google Drive Anytime I record a video it will be added to that and you can receive that just before it's uploaded on YouTube So some early access I've been in the funk lately and haven't got a whole lot of videos a whole lot of videos out and ready for you But I'm grateful for whatever you're willing to help support Please do join our discord server link in the description It's a cool community full of CTF players programmers and hackers a lot of smart people They're certainly smarter than me and it's just awesome to crank on a CTF together or some programming challenges or any other thing Interesting to just be part of the community Please do like comment and subscribe love to see you guys in the next video and take care


Item number, SCP-279, Object Class, Euclid. Special Containment Procedures. There is no known way of inhibiting SCP-279's movements. As SCP-279 has not yet been sighted outside of its host town, D, the city has been placed under a level of lockdown. No media regarding SCP-279 are permitted to leave the town. If at all possible, the civilians are to be kept unaware of the anomalous properties of SCP-279, as well as the fact that their city is being monitored. A minimum of two agents are to follow SCP-279's movements as closely as they are able. Description. SCP-279 appears to be a man in his early 40s, of unremarkable appearance and dress. SCP-279 does not respond to any form of external stimuli, and has not been observed to deviate from a standard neutral expression. SCP-279 has been reported to spontaneously disappear, and reappear, throughout D, presenting unusual difficulties to agents required to monitor it. SCP-279 seemingly spends the majority of its time time traveling through the town of D. Attempts to eliminate SCP-279 have failed. SCP-279 continues whatever it is in the process of doing regardless of any injury it has sustained. Small portions of SCP-279 attempt to continue locomotion even when separated from the whole. In light of this, attempts to dispatch SCP-279 have been indefinitely postponed. All samples taken confirm that SCP-279 is human. At approximately 3 am, SCP-279 vanishes for two hours, and returns in its original state at another location in D. Containment or restraint is impossible, as SCP-279 possesses an inordinate amount of strength when physically restrained, and has utilized its ability to spontaneously reappear in a different location when indirectly restrained. Although SCP-279 has no known motive, it does not have a known history of violent behavior. SCP-279 has been observed standing in unusual areas for up to several days at a time, looking into windows of occupied rooms, walking in a circle roughly two meters in diameter for several hours, data expunged in houses, entering shops and f***ing shop manager-informed local authorities after three minutes, walking along roads, etc. Care must be taken to avoid direct skin contact with SCP-279. When such contact is made, the person in question will vanish, along with SCP-279, at the usual time of disappearance. Only one individual has been recovered after direct contact with SCP-279. Said individual appeared to be in a state of near-catatonic shock upon recovery in a basement. After being relocated to site, the subject showed signs of being legally blind. Despite examinations, proving vision was only slightly farsighted. Subject appeared to be reasonably lucid, despite showing signs of mental data expunged. That saying, get away from me repeatedly while data expunged. However, does not satisfactorily explain the injuries the subject incurred while confined to a straight jacket, in a padded room. Addendum 279A Agents monitoring SCP-279 have brought to our attention a problematic development. While in the past, information leaks were secured easily due to the fact that SCP-279 rarely appeared near large crowds. It has recently been frequenting densely populated areas. More conspicuously odd actions have also been noted, although this may be due to the fact that more people are reporting unusual events surrounding SCP-279. Despite our best efforts, SCP-279 has since become something of a landmark of the town due to its open, unusual behavior. Liberal amounts of amnestics were administered when citizens noticed connections between missing individuals and SCP-279. Violence directed towards SCP-279 attracted large amounts of attention and resulted in an immense security breach before agents were able to arrive. Currently, efforts are being made to maintain security without upsetting the population of D. However, if f***ing fails, the city is to be put under a level of lockdown. Just to maintain any pretense that D is not being closely monitored will be discontinued. As it is a relatively small town, the process of data expunged ought to go smoothly. Dr. W... Level 5 Security Clearance Required Recently, a researcher noticed an odd distortion in a picture of SCP-279. After considerable concentration, the doctor was able to see a similar distortion in all files depicting SCP-279. Said doctor then discovered an effective method of an extremely elaborate and convoluted process, and after considerable time, he was able to achieve the desired effect. An extremely subtle memetic hazard had affected SCP-279 and nearly all examinations it was involved in. Since then, SCP-279 has been confirmed to be decidedly not human. DNA retesting is impossible due to the nature of SCP-279. Testing confirmed that agents claimed to be grasping SCP-279's arm when, as viewed with the aid of said doctor's methods, the agent's arm appeared to be data expunged, up to the elbow and... Researchers were reminded that despite the admittedly unsavory aspects of allowing it to interact with civilians, data expunged, use of foundation resources, coupled with the fact that very little is known of SCP-279's motives. Requests to evacuate D have been denied. Researchers are reminded to maintain a professional calm. As per mutual agreement, the containment procedures regarding SCP-279 have been updated. Agents tasked with monitoring SCP-279 have not been informed of its nature, as the information was deemed to be too distressing. If you missed the previous orientation, go watch SCP-278, a large mechanical spider, right now. Or for the complete course, watch this playlist.


You're not insecure tonight. Tonight. You're taking a break from insecurity Corava Feel Holy Spirit touch Any similar there's no wrong answer Good Lola motion Speaking out my faith any syllable hello, Vashatana boy. I'm not bashandi like that could a motion to the boss idea Rebosha to the bottom any syllable could a motion to the body anyone Let's try it in English then thank you Jesus glory arrears. Thank you Jesus glory to God Thank you Jesus glory to God. Thank you Jesus glory to God Hallelujah. Thank you Jesus. I love you. Thank you Lord. I love you. Come on. Thank you Jesus louder there you go good girl Thank You Jesus. I love you. Thank you. I love you Thank you. I love you Lord Hallelujah Thank You Jesus glory. It's your name say it glory arrears halloween Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for your blood Thank you Jesus. Good girl. Now you're doing it now. You're killing it Thank You Jesus. I give you praise Say it louder. Thank You Jesus. I give you praise be strong louder Thank You Jesus. Thank You Jesus.       There he is take a big one big one.     They're coming out right now. They're coming out ready come out of my nose Spirit come out of my body right now in the name of the Lord Jesus.  I'm turning my life over to the Lord I'm not living in sin anymore. I repent of it I'm gonna get rid of all my rotten friends right now in the name of Jesus every sinful friend I'm gonna get rid of them right this second go all of them go Right now go Come on keep yawning go there they come Be gone come on Jesus thing come on those lungs come on them lungs out of them lungs There he comes there it is right there. He's coming out right now Yawning those are the weaker demons coming out. We're gonna get to the nasty ones in a minute You pervert every person I hurt in my past Lord, I asked you to forgive me Every person I stabbed in the back. I asked you to forgive me The Bible says I will reap what I so I had people stabbing me in the back because I stabbed other people in the back Forgive me for hurting other people Lord forgive me of Jesus come out he rotten devil come on there Come on out keep coughing come out.   We see somebody yawning that means the anointing is on them and The spirit is now moving out the weaker spirits They yawn out of there. They start there is another one. It's coming out one after the other They yawn out. Okay. I know that sounds weird Before I got into deliverance. I thought it was weird too. Now. It's just like another thing Yawn them out.   There he goes glory to God When you see somebody have a huge yawn and their jaw opens real wide. That's a demon coming out That's a spirit coming out That means the person has the annoying there was another one coming on that guy That means the person has the anointing and the Holy Spirit's on them and they're coming out There's one coming out of her both these two they're yawning out right now That's the that's the first layer of the spirits being yawned out That's a very good sign. That means that the person has the anointing of the Holy Ghost Demons will not come out without the Holy Ghost anointing He is the only person They fear They do not fear human beings They find them as garbage The Holy Ghost now that's a horse of a different color. They fear him Demons fear the Holy Ghost And if you'll repent of your sins The devil will get his face kicked in in your life If you change and repent the Holy Spirit will go with you a hundred percent every step of the way Just repent of it Just confess it. It's easy to do father I insulted my mother when I was 12 and when I was 15 I yelled at her when I was 18 I told her to go to hell and That brought a curse on me and I apologize for that and I repent of it And I ask for your forgiveness. I confess it and I repent of it That's how you repent. Just do what I just did And if you pray like that sincerely, I'm telling you the spirit of the Lord to jump all over you He loves to forgive people, but he won't do anything if they won't confess it Yeah, right now you stink in spirit of fear you how dare you take a breath and blow Come on out right now lift out of me Lift out of me Lift out of me lift out. Come on.     I command you to fail now Every heartbreaking loss every amazing disappointment I break it Jesus Christ Every Rejection from every man every woman every family member all of them Every time they rejected me. I release it right now name of Jesus Christ out come out of me right now.  Thank you Jesus Hey, you've got you know me. You were yawning out them spirits You have it. Yeah, are you cranking up and fight harder? Here's how you do it.  Yeah, just get mad See if you don't get mad at the devil he takes that he takes out The way he looks at it is you like him He's a pervert and that's why he sees it. He thinks you like you if you're not mad at him And you're okay with what he's doing in your life And you say well, I just kind of don't I'm kind of mad or I'm kind of upset about alright really don't like it That's not good enough You don't understand Christian.   Hardcorechristian.com hit the hit the button at the top the teaching button Go to the teaching button Pick out in a Bible study that applies to you Go to the self-deliverance button Send me an email Mike at hardcorechristian.com. I'll send you the self-deliverance list next week I believe is the seminar on Sex no no children at that one. That's going to be a little touchy See you next week. Love you Next week is the seminar seven o'clock. It's free and it's on human sexuality And I will see you then


Everybody forced here ripping 2022 mosaic football choice 10 box number seven random teams Results link is in chat. You can always find them at the website to Results quickly is in the bottom of the website. Let's get started. Thanks, everybody. Let's go Ravens. Oh And they had the ball back.  Oh Nice Paley. That's awesome man. Yeah, national's a good time. Oh, yeah So fun nice zappy for the past guys not gonna recap this one by though. It's gonna be pretty quick break Red and yellows are gonna be to 80 drink young Seattle 78 of 80 Patterson for the Falcon 71 of 80 Bocelli Jaguars 25 of 80 the red and greens Rookies here Seahawks Jari young and Jetsbury's Hall Drop back to pass three yard Silver chargers Austin Eckler mosaic Kyle Phillips Titans rookie Black and gold a color match auto for the Steelers Alan Fannica the legend right there five of eight Interior old line legend You go stealers awesome color match to black and gold Red and yellows gates chargers 43 of 80 Cowboys Sam Williams 72 of 80 Cowboys Micah Parsons 21 of 80 Red and green Eagles rookie Carson strong and Cowboys rookie Jake Ferguson All right silver rookie Devon say Wyatt Packers mosaic do Renee Ravens Mark Dupre choice auto dolphins Sam's hoping for a Greg Roman contract extension. No, I am not Bill's 53 of 80 is Jim Kelly Russ for the Broncos 57 of 80 and black and gold Jerry Judy one of eight Broncos Nice black and gold there Red and green rookies to Kwan brisker Bears and bow Mountain Seahawks Yeah, it's not over till it's over Randy. I mean there's we're so Classic for just choking in the second half this year We would have been like we'd have like 13 or 14 wins if we if the game ended in the third quarter common inducing That's a punt right there, so Silver borough Bengals mosaic gala Scott or Eagles this could end up being a pretty boring game honestly look at this I Don't know he was in choice Justin Herbert choice autograph chargers Sick hit Andrew M Congrats congrats finally got to the playoffs over they can improve on that next season.  That's going in a mag red and yellow rookie. Nice color match here. Sam Howell commanders to 83 4 of 80 McNabb Eagles 38 of 80 and Phillips Titans rookie 80 of 80 red and green rookies Packers Devontae Wyatt and Chavon Walker Jags T loss True no, maybe bought into this break Silver Fletcher Cox Eagles was a Nick Chubb Browns breeze haul rookie choice out of the Jets My holy grail car. What is your holy grail? Do you have one? I don't probably like a Ray Lewis shield one-of-one game use auto Mike Woods 26 of 80 Browns JJ Watt Cardinals 68 of 80 Probably a pocket or devils logo man Peacock Alante Taylor Saints rookie nice Taylor and red and green rookies Drake Jackson Niners Snoop Conner Jags Yeah, probably like a Raphael devours or David Ortiz definitive logo man. I don't know if there's an attree in Ortiz that exists like that But I'm sure there's a devours Yeah that or it's not even that crazy of a card but like a Devers rookie real ones red ink auto. That's great. It's a rookie Drake on at Falcons That's probably one that's much more easy to obtain. You got to have four figures, but it's it's available Renfro Raiders mosaic Brandon cooks Texans auto Red and yellow Jalen Petrie Texans rookie 36 of 80. I actually did one. I saw that Twitter post that I was so funny White chocolate highlights, that's awesome dude, Alan Robinson to 80 for the Rams TJ Hawkinson the Lions 56 of 80 Reading greens Kyle Phillips Titans and Matt Corral Panthers. That's awesome.  He was like the and one mix tape Torbid in the NBA It's like a what and one mixed and one mixed tape to or yeah, and one of street ball He did some especially when he was an all-star game Some in-game stuff dude. He was awesome rookie silver Nick Bonito Broncos and mosaic rookie Jalen Tolbert Cowboys Is he the best like in-game? flashy like passer and dribbler like ever Rookie Kohler auto for the Ravens Honestly don't know I'm asking. I seriously don't know Like who else was known for stuff like that. I rate for all stuff was good, but Cooper cup to 80. There you go Rams 37 of 80 Harrison Smith Vikings 60 of 80 and Malik Willis red and yellow 71 of 80 for the Titans Best elbow pass definitely best elbow. Yeah, for sure red and green Falcons Desmond Ritter and K. Dotten Bucks I mean not passing but like dribbling. I think higher you're being I mean mosaic cards can have a slight bend to them like a slight curve It's just that's just chrome cards though. It doesn't affect rating or anything when they're warped Correct Silver rookie jacquan brisker bears. I Also, don't hold them straight up and down most of time like that's like that's the card right there Like yeah slight. That's very slight to that's like nothing and mosaic Buddha Baker Cardinals Sauce gardener on the Jets rookie auto Red and yellow tyquan Thornton Pats 26 of 80 Zach Wilson Jets 55 of 80 Jets again Elijah Moore 5 of 80 and a red and green Xamira white Raiders rookie and a lot of Taylor Saints rookie him and Randy Moscos Good gosh. Oh my god. I can only imagine dude. That sounds terrifying go into math class having a free algebra test on how to go guard Randy I Can only imagine oh god when I watched Austin Rivers play our high school Oh, silver time for anything like he was really good Like he was like the number one recruit in high school in our year Silver time Brady Pats mosaic rookie bellinger Giants rookie auto Carson strong Eagles and just watching him Just just attempt a crazy as though he missed some of them, but it's attempt the craziest donks because it could He just jumps out of the gym destroying everybody red and yellow Steelers Najee Harris 80 of 80 D hop Cardinals future Patriot 28 of 80, which is actually it might be that might happen in a peacock Cooper cup Nice one of Rams red and green rookies drumford Browns and Garrett Wilson Jets Dude Jason Williams today with social media would just be You would not you would cannot go at night without him playing a game where there wouldn't be like Oh my god, like my homes does some crazy things, but it's gotten so crazy social media where they're just like oh my god He threw the ball Silver Callaway Saints was a jagged Christian Kirk or someone a hurdle somewhere now. It's like oh my god John Mets you the third rookie auto Texans red and yellow and quad golden Cardinals 76 of 80 like unless the hurdle happens And the guy keeps running afterwards. I don't care. Yeah Like we've seen enough now, you know like it's incredible. It's great. If you're watching it live. It's cool.  It's like no one cares them. Yeah, I get that Big card Jags black and gold rookie Trevon Walker Five out of eight. That's nasty. It's not really after what happened after what took place the events of the past 24 hours There you go debut Jags black and gold Trevon Walker a Corral for the Panthers red and yellow 16 of 80 red and green rookies giant Niners Danny Gray And Eagles and the Kobe Dean that'll do it guys not gonna recap this one run a little short on time So we're gonna keep moving here. Thank you very much