The most exciting news—I'm going to be a Journalist. All the lovely little bits of gossip that float about this Grand Old Alma Mater are going to be whispered in my little ear and I'll tell you Everything that I hear about Everyone; and I'm going to spy with my little eye and find red hot news. ( I don't really mean Red, darling.) You know this University has an awful lot of nasty people among the students—communists and that. Of course I never mix with them because one can't be too careful, can one? and they say even the professors are dangerous. I don't take any night lectures, though, so I don't really know about that. I asked somebody what a Communist looked like, but he Just turned round and sort of laughed at me.

Heart to Heart.

I've got a new frock. It's gorgeous. You slide Into a purple sheath and then drop a mass of pale green frills over it, and the effect is marvellous. So sweet, and it gives one that "air." I'm going to wear it to the Final Ball in November because there will only be two hundred couples there and I love being in an exclusive crowd. You know.

Oh—that nice John Hatherley, you remember him. I'm sure; well, he has been at some conference in Glasgow—I forget what it was, but I'm sure he was important. C.I.E., it was, whatever that is.

Isn't it awful the way people talk in initials? I always sit still and look pretty because I never can remember what N.Z.U.S.A. and S.P.C.A. and U.S.A. stand for and I heard a new one the other day, but when I asked what it meant they said. "Bumping Off Adolph Society," which sounded mad. Who is Adolph? I used to have a dog called Adolph—It used to bite people and nobody liked it. My brother killed it just when it was going to have a fight with a hungary pup. All the neighbours were there and they saw him shoot it. Some of them were glad. He's in the territorials and he knows how to shoot. I wish you could see him in his puttees and his big khaki hat and his polished buttons. Wouldn't it be fun to go to a war and polish your buttons and swap stories. They say the soldiers have a marvellous time. They get so friendly, you see and they can talk about their country and everyone cheers them and women cry. Have you got any boy friends among the territorials? I have and it is nice. Bert says soldiering is "a man's job and you need guts." I suppose he means that a woman wouldn't know how to do up puttees and polish buttons. And of course they wouldn't, would they, because a woman's place is in the home? The men have to wear uniforms and march about and protect the homes and the little ones.

Girlish Gossip.

I heard of a new way to set your perm. You Just comb sugar and water through, and there you are. It stays put for ages. I've got the sweeteest little kiss curls all round my face—and Archie kissed every one on Saturday night. Archie is funny, isn't he? He talks all the time about the poor German people and Herr Chamberlain and Signor Hitler and Mr. Mussolini—perhaps that is a bit mixed up, but it's all the same, anyway.

I was running through the Common Room a while ago and I heard two girls say that the basketball people are going to give Max Riske two guineas because he coached their team this year. Max is marvellous. Next year I'm going to give up skating and go to basketball.

I go to music now. I don't mean I learn or anything like that, but they have Recitals on a big gramophone in C2. and when the lights are put out and everyone sprawls across the benches and Mr. Palmer has finished talking and no more people come creeping in late, and the lights are out and the music begins, then I feel all "floaty" inside and I have to sit close to someone. I went to a spiritualist meeting once and it was just the same. Sometimes the library gets like that too, and then I go downstairs and talk to Brookie. I don't think Brookie likes me much. He said the kiss curls are silly. But I'll tell him I've got a Job on "Salient" and then he will like me.

Well, darling, write to me soon and tell me all about the latest fashions and things—and can you get me a recipe for Soft Soap? I'd adore to have one. Nobody seems to know how to make it—but I've heard of lots of men in the elections who use it, so do try and And the recipe.