The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1916-05-11
BORROWED
PLUMAGE
The College Cloakroom Maid and
the University Porter
BY JANE OSBORN

by JANE OSBORN
When Thornby college opened
last autumn there was a new maid
in the cloakroom. Something about
her dark, close fitting dress, her
small, rufled apron and her parted
hair, tied with a big black bow at
the back Of her neck, suggested a
French maid much more than a stu
dent. But the fact was that Molly
Dodge really was a poor southern
girl working her way through the
woman's department of this big
university.
During the three or four hours
that Molly was not attending lee
lures she had to stay in the stone
loored, locker lined cloakroom and
be ready at any time to get stu
dents hats and coats OF put them
away in their owners lockers.
At first it had seemed not at all
bad, for Molly had a soft, lovable,
southern way Of talking and honest
brown eyes that made all the girls
like her. But as the months passed
they became accustomed to seeing
her every day, and they passed her
thoughtlessly by. 1t would not have
been so hard if Molly had been in
tellectual, but she was not at all
fond of books. In fact, if she had
had a chance she would probably
have been a little frivolous.
But there were two things that
made Molly's life bearable. One was
the daily visit of the university por-
ter, and the other was the appear
anc now and then of new and pref
ty hats and wraps. Molly had a lit
tie mirror over her desk in the
cloakroom, and whenever any spe-
cially charming hat appeared on the
clothing counter she would wait till
the girls had left the room and
then with it on her own pretty head
steal an admiring glance at herself
over her desk.
And the porter! Well, he used
to come over from the university
every day with the students mail,
which it was Molly's duty to sort
and distribute. OF course a woman
student of Thornby college ought
not to have firted with so humble
a parsonage as the university por-
ter, but Molly was only half a STU
dent. The half that was cloakroom
maid looked forward with impa-
thence to the daily visitation of the
porter's cheerful smile and conta-
gious laugh.
On rainy days Molly had to han
die countless damp and muddy rub
bers and galoshes and dripping UNI
brellas. That alone would have
made her dislike the rain, but be-
sides that students always wore
their old hats when it rained.
She was looking out of the iron
bars of her basement window at the
gloomy sky n dark day in March
when all at once there swept in a
stately senior, a billow of soft black
furs. She carelessly slipped them
off, smiled at Molly and hurried off
to her class.
"What a dream!" thought Molly.
"And on a day like thisl But what
does it matter when one has a car
riage?"
Molly raised the soft pieces gent
ly from the counter and started to
put them in their locker. But the
temptation was too great. She came
back and replaced them lovingly on
the counter. Then very carefully
she pinned the toque over her
piquant little face and glanced APP
provingly at her image in the mir
o over her desk. If only she could
see the rest, she wished. In a flash
she jumped over the counter, closed
the door into the hall and slipped
into the luxurious coat. Then she
stepped up to the students long
pier glass.
IF only it were a little longer"
she thought. And then, turning
around at the sound of the opening
door, she faced the porter. He clos
ed the door quickly and stood
against it. Then he turned to Molly
and laughed. But Molly didn't
laugh back. She slipped out of the
furs, sprang owe the counter and,
with a guilty blush, took the morn
ing mail.
The next day when the porter
came Molly was deep in a volume of
Horace.
nice book you're reading, Mol
ly.o remarked the porter and Mollv