A portentous frown was gathering on Patty's brow, and the freshman, wishing to avert a possible domestic tragedy, inquired timidly, "Who is Peters?" "Peters," said Priscilla, "is a short, bow-legged gentleman with a red Vandyke beard, whose technical title is janitor, but who is really dictator. Every one is afraid of him--even Prexy." "I'm not," said Patty; "and," she added firmly, "that door is coming down whether he says so or not, so I suppose we shall have to do it ourselves." Her eyes wandered back to the carpet and her face brightened. "Oh, Pris, we've got a beautiful new scheme. My friend here says she doesn't like the carpet at all, and suggests that we take it up, get some black paint, and put it on the floor ourselves. I agree," she added, "that a Flemish oak floor covered with rugs would be a great improvement." Priscilla glanced uncertainly from the freshman to the floor. "Do you think they'd let us do it?" "It would never do to ask them," said Patty. The freshman rose uneasily. "I came," she said hesitatingly, "to find out--that is, I understand that the girls rent their old books, and I thought, if you wouldn't mind--" "Mind!" said Patty, reassuringly. "We'd rent our souls for fifty cents a semester." "It--it was a Latin dictionary I wanted," said the freshman, "and the girls next door said perhaps you had one." "A beautiful one," said Patty. "No," interrupted Priscilla; "hers is lost from O to R, and it's all torn; but mine,"--she dived down into one of the boxes and hauled out a chunky volume without any covers,--"while it is not so beautiful as it was once, it is still as useful." "Mine's annotated," said Patty, "and illustrated. I'll show you what a superior book it is," and she began descending the ladder; but Priscilla charged upon her and she retreated to the top again. "Why," she wailed to the terrified freshman, "did you not say you wanted a dictionary before she came back? Let me give you some advice at the beginning of your college career," she added warningly. "Never choose a room-mate bigger than yourself. They're dangerous." The freshman was backing precipitously toward the door, when it opened and revealed an attractive-looking girl with fluffy reddish hair. "Pris, you wretch, you walked off with my hammer!" "Oh, Georgie, we need it worse than you do! Come in and help tack." "Hello, Georgie," called Patty, from the ladder. "Isn't this room going to be beautiful when it's finished?" Georgie looked about. "You are more sanguine than I should be," she laughed. "You can't tell yet," Patty returned. "We're going to cover the wall-paper with this red stuff, and paint the floor black, and have dark furniture, and red hangings, and soft lights. It will look just like the Oriental Room in the Waldorf."