Sophomore. Now, the Seniors weren't that way last year. You're only a Freshman, so of course you can't judge, but I never saw so slow a class as this year's, why they haven't said a word about the entertainment, and yet everyone knows they ought to give us a Thanksgiving party. (any other festival can be substituted here)

Freshman. A party? What do they have to eat?

Sophomore. They're not likely to have anything this year. If I had known that last Thanksgiving I would have eaten twice as much. I haven't anything to be thankful for.

Freshman. But you passed in History. Why don't you tell the Seniors what they ought to do?

Sophomore. Sh—here comes one of them. (rises and goes to meetSenior)

(EnterSenior, tired out, she sits down with a great sigh of relief.)

Freshman and Sophomore. What's the matter?

Senior. Matter? Why, I'm half dead thinking.

Sophomore. (giggles) Thinking!

Senior. Say, did you ever hear the word Sophomoric? (severely) That's the sort of a joke that was.

Freshman. What were you thinking about?

Senior. Trying to get up some new and original kind of a Thanksgiving party for the school.

Sophomore. You darling! (embraces her)

Freshman. We were afraid you had forgotten.