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fears, I gloried in the drama of the occasion. At the cry of "Closed Tribunals!" several other persons joined the group, eager to see the "gross freshmen" who had been summoned. My unsuspecting roommate came in presently from the library and joined the group out of curiosity, inquiring as to the cause of the commotion.

Her reaction when she saw the dripping dagger on the neatly printed out card was not quite as violent as I had expected. As a matter of fact, it wasn't violent at all. She just stood there, looking very bewildered.

My glory soon faded and that feeling of terror replaced it promptly when they began to tell us about the black robes, blind-folds, bright lights and unheard-of sentences.

"A girl last year had to wash her hair in eggs and molasses on jockey corner, while singing, "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hari."

"They made one gross freshman carry his books to class on a sled for a week."

"Botetourt go a thourough cleaning with toothbrushes and Pepsodent"...and so the stories went.

We didn't sleep very well that night. In our dreams we were serenading in the cafeteria, wearing bathing suits around the campus, and carrying umbrellas in the bright sunshine while the Mighty Sophomores pointed their fingers and roared with laughter.

By the next day, we had become more or less resigned to our fate and had even come to look on it with some feeling of anticipation.