packed for college. Every member of the family was interested in it,
perhaps most of all her father who had put into the bank that first
dollar on the day that she was born with the faith that what should be
added to it might one day mean college. Behind her was a long line of
honest ancestry, simple people who had worked hard and managed to "get
along." She was the first on either side of the family to "go to
college." No one in the family, even the most distant relative, failed
to feel the importance of the event. "Tom's Dorothy goes to college this
week--think of it," a great aunt, in a little unpainted, low-roofed
farmhouse far away in the hills, told all her friends at church.

Great ambition, hopes and dreams were packed into that trunk and the day
when she should graduate and come back to teach in the high school
seemed near. Jack and Bessie and Newton were in her plans for using the
money she should earn when those four short years were over.

[Illustration: SHE WAS FULL OF AMBITION AND WILLING TO WORK]

Looking at her sweet, fresh face so full of happiness one knew her to be
a privileged girl. All through high school she had had her purpose
clear, her studies were a pleasure, her simple good times were enjoyed
to the full and life, every moment of it, was worth the living. When I
saw her lock the trunk and excitedly instruct the expressman as to just
how it must be carried, I had a sudden vision of the thousands of girls,
with happy faces filled with anticipation of all that is wrapped up in
that one word, _college_. A great army of privileged girls, they are.
One cannot help wishing that he might feel sure that when they leave
those college halls it might be with a deep appreciation and real
sympathetic understanding of the other girls who have turned their eyes
with longing toward four years more of study and fun, but whose feet