THE CRIME

The Union waitresses gathered in an excited throng about Miss Murray Just before the meal last night. There was much tittering and giggling and wondering what the trouble could be. Some claimed Miss Murray was attempting to explain the four-five no trump bid in the reaching of grand slams. Others had it that the new and amorous looking policeman on a local beat was causing considerable upheaval among the hearts of the waiting lasses.

Miss Murray's stern mien, however, and the resultant depression in the attitudes of the waitresses soon convinced onlookers that something far more important was in the wind. Evidently a crisis was at hand. The waitresses were seen to gesticulate, stare blankly into space, and undergo all the agonizing symptoms human beings display when they are attempting to exercise mental powers. The task was in vain, however. The lasses were not up to the situation. The menus had been stolen and the poor girls could not memorize the order list. A typewriter was employed and Freshmen were forced to order dinner from plebeian carbon copies.