Unfortunately for the evaders their wives were not always so complacent. One man made out a very good case—his wife was delicate, their baby less than two years old, and his salary small. Alas for his hopes! His father-in-law also sent an affidavit with the necessary number of witnesses. He proved that this dearly beloved dependent wife had been deserted by her now affectionate husband six months after marriage—the father-in-law had supported both mother and child. This old man stated plainly that he would be very grateful to get his son-in-law sent out of the country, and kept out—he did not specify on which battle-field. When Alice left me I felt sure that never again would I meet a person with such an exalted opinion of a college education. That was an error. I was yet to meet two more. The first of these two appealed to me the day that our department was moved up-stairs—the top floor of the old Post-Office Building. In appearance he was an unusually fine-looking man of about twenty-five—a blond, and slightly under six feet in height. He was the picture of health, well fed and exceptionally well groomed. Stopping in the door he glanced around and chanced to catch my eyes. Smiling he walked across and greeted me with great cordiality. He wished very much to know just how his case stood, he explained, and was sure that I could assist him materially. I had not read his papers, so I asked him for an outline of his case, as well as his name and address. On learning these particulars my face must have expressed a lack of enthusiasm in his cause, for he hastened to add: “It’s like this—if I’d thought I was going to be drafted, I would have enlisted. Now all I ask ’em is to let me enlist.” “Now that you are drafted why do you wish to enlist?” I asked, for this was a new type of an evader to me. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down on me with indignation. “I’m a college man,” he informed me haughtily. “It is impossible for me to associate with the type of man sent to —th Camp.” “Why, what is the matter with them?” I questioned, still at a loss to know at what he actually was driving. “What could they do to you?” “Do to me?” He was so disgusted that he appeared to consider turning his back on me. Evidently he had a second and what he considered a wiser thought. “I’ll tell you just how it is—what happened when I went out there the other day,” he began in the confidential tone assumed by some men when they think they are about to help themselves to a kiss. “The first man I met was a barber—the fellow who has been shaving me every morning for—oh, I don’t know how long.” Looking at him I waited—I was not waiting for the kiss. “Now, you couldn’t expect me to associate with fellows like those—could you?” I looked away without replying—there are so many different kinds of fool in this world. After a moment he added pettishly: “If you were a college woman you’d understand.”