SENATOR:  The fact that they are quoting it shows it’s being misapplied.

HORACE:  (approvingly) I’ll tell them that.  But gee—­Lincoln oughta been more careful what he said.  Ignorant people don’t know how to take such things.

(Goes back with book.)

FEJEVARY:  Want to take a look through the rest of the library?  We haven’t been up this way yet—­(motioning left) We need a better scientific library. (they are leaving now) Oh, we simply must have more money.  The whole thing is fairly bursting its shell.

DORIS:  (venturing in cautiously from the other side, looking back, beckoning) They’ve gone.

FUSSIE:  Sure?

DORIS:  Well, are they here?  And I saw them, I tell you—­they went up to science.

FUSSIE:  (moving the SENATOR’S hat on the table) But they’ll come back.

DORIS:  What if they do?  We’re only looking at a book. (running her hand along the books) Matthew Arnold.

(Takes a paper from FUSSIE, puts it in the book.  They are bent with giggling as HORACE returns.)

HORACE:  For the love o’ Pete, what’s the joke? (taking the book from the helpless girl) Matthew Arnold.  My idea of nowhere to go for a laugh.  When I wrote my theme on him last week he was so dry I had to go out and get a Morton Sundee (the girls are freshly attacked, though all of this in a subdued way, mindful of others in the library) Say, how’d you get that way?

DORIS:  Now, Horace, don’t you tell.

HORACE:  What’d I tell, except—­(seeing the paper) Um hum—­what’s this?

DORIS:  (trying to get it from him) Horace, now don’t you (a tussle) You great strong mean thing!  Fussie!  Make him stop.

(She gets the paper by tearing it.)

HORACE:  My dad’s around here—­showing the college off to a politician.  If you don’t come across with that sheet of mystery, I’ll back you both out there (starts to do it) and—­

DORIS:  Horace!  You’re just horrid.

HORACE:  Sure I’m horrid.  That’s the way I want to be. (takes the paper, reads)

  ’To Eben
  You are the idol of my dreams
  I worship from afar.’ 
What is this?

FUSSIE:  Now, listen, Horace, and don’t you tell.  You know Eben Weeks.  He’s the homeliest man in school.  Wouldn’t you say so?

HORACE:  Awful jay.  Like to get some of the jays out of here.

DORIS:  But listen.  Of course, no girl would look at him.  So we’ve thought up the most killing joke, (stopped by giggles from herself and FUSSIE) Now, he hasn’t handed in his Matthew Arnold dope.  I heard old Mac hold him up for it—­and what’d you think he said?  That he’d been ploughing.  Said he was trying to run a farm and go to college at the same time!  Isn’t it a scream?