kodak to take back to America some idea of their grotesque
appearance, and she listened with amused interest as Jefferson
explained that these men were notorious _poseurs_, aping the dress
and manners of the old-time student as he flourished in the days
of Randolph and Mimi and the other immortal characters of Murger's
Bohemia. Nobody took them seriously except themselves, and for the
most part they were bad rhymesters of decadent verse. Shirley was
astonished to see so many of them busily engaged smoking
cigarettes and imbibing glasses of a pale-green beverage, which
Jefferson told her was absinthe.

"When do they read?" she asked. "When do they attend lectures?"

"Oh," laughed Jefferson, "only the old-fashioned students take
their studies seriously. Most of the men you see there are from
the provinces, seeing Paris for the first time, and having their
fling. Incidentally they are studying life. When they have sown
their wild oats and learned all about life--provided they are
still alive and have any money left--they will begin to study
books. You would be surprised to know how many of these young men,
who have been sent to the University at a cost of goodness knows
what sacrifices, return to their native towns in a few months
wrecked in body and mind, without having once set foot in a
lecture room, and, in fact, having done nothing except inscribe
their names on the rolls."

Shirley was glad she knew no such men, and if she ever married and
had a son she would pray God to spare her that grief and
humiliation. She herself knew something about the sacrifices
parents make to secure a college education for their children. Her