She was less than five years old, when she made her own brushes by taking stiff chicken feathers and shaving them off till only a small tuft was left at the end. From pieces of brick and other materials found about the place, she ground her own colors. When we found the child making pictures with these primitive paints, we at once supplied her with colors. In addition to the power of invention, perhaps because of it, Caroline possessed the happy faculty of making the most of small things, enjoying whatever little pleasures fell to her lot. Thus, wishing very much to have a room entirely to herself, she asked for one in the attic. When a mouse visited her bower in the evening, instead of screaming she played softly on the harmonica, in the hope that the music would lead him to return to his home. We called her the Attic Fairy. In 1889, our eldest son, Samuel Prescott Hall, entered Harvard University, having passed his examinations with honors. I went up to Cambridge with the trembling Freshman, who had just passed his seventeenth birthday. A certain indifference, not to say coldness, on the part of the authorities soon showed me that the event of Sam’s entrance into academic fields did not move them so deeply as it did me. The bursar I found especially unsympathetic. My son had not drawn a room in the college buildings, and that was an end of it. Mr. —— had no suggestions to offer. I was assured later that this gentleman was a very kind man. He certainly concealed the fact very successfully. I had dealings with him from time to time during the period of fourteen years while my sons were at Cambridge. But I do not remember his ever displaying one sign of human weakness. My brother had suggested our trying to procure for Sam the position of president’s Freshman. The duties of this functionary consisted in running errands for the head of the university, for which he was paid a small honorarium. When I inquired about the president’s Freshman, I was met by a pitying smile. The young man in charge had evidently never heard of such a person. When we looked about for rooms, dreadful tales of young collegians who had been found dead from opium-smoking greeted our affrighted ears. Fortunately, we found a pleasant lodgment at the house of an old acquaintance. This attitude of serene indifference toward the class of young men most in need of advice and help has now passed away. The erection of a stately row of buildings, intended especially for the accommodation of Freshmen, shows that Alma Mater has waked up to a fact which was clear long ago to the ordinary mothers of men. The entering class, the new blood, is the hope of the future. As they are the youngest students and are totally inexperienced in the ways of the university, many of them coming from remote parts of the country, they should be made welcome.