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Show What Price Sorority0The girl of my dreams passed the library door. My heart quickened. I must follow her, know her, win her. Hastily I shut the book I had been reading and grabbed for my hat. Damitall, just as I was in the act of following her my conscience clutched me and pitched me back down in my chair. What right had I to think of spring and love when I was failing in everything? The old fight between conscience and desire was on but I suppose there's no need to tell you who won.She was beautiful. Deep blue eyes overshadowd by curling brown hair, dimpled chin and voluptuous lips, a tender smile, a sweet air of purity, but oh hell! Why tell you about it? You won't believe it anyway. She was a co-edâ€"oh so dumb and' yet how perfect. Our hero cuddled close. She gazed into his frank manly eyes and giggled stupidly. A tender sigh, a wistful look, and they fell into stranglehold. If a referee had been there the girl would have obtained the first fall in five minutes and thirty-three seconds. Our hero tried a new mode of attack He placed his arm where college men usually place them. She gurgled gleefully and gripped his hand between her teeth. He quickly retrieved the remnant of his hand from the jaws of hell. He held up his hand and gazed ruefully at the mangled fingers. The strange incident was soon cleared up when the girl snickered, "I'm Cleopatra and I put my Mark on Antomy." "Poor nut," said our hero, "you were the girl that didn't make her sorority."Moral: Now our hero doesn't put his hand there anymore? ? ? ?Page 376 |