All Christmas vacations are alike. Just as you are beginning to realize that Christmas is really coming, and that it is almost time to pack to go home, the faculty make a unanimous decision to give papers or written lessons to all their classes. This seems to be their idea of making the holiday pleasant, by making the week before the holidays particularly full of agonies. And no matter what courses you are taking, the written lesson in the one you know least about is sure to come on the last day of the term. When it is over, you rush back to your room, tuck the Christmas packages that you have strict injunctions not to open until the right day comes into your trunk, shut the lid--with the assistance of several friends--sweep the débris that litters your dresser into a suit case, and run for your train. Probably you think you have failed in your test, but you have no time to worry about that now. You are going home for Christmas! If you are lucky enough to live on one of the main-traveled roads you will have plenty of company on the journey, and you will slip from your friends' clamorous good-byes straight into the waiting arms of your family. And before you have settled down to the joyful fact that you are at home, Christmas is over, everything you wanted most is packed in your trunk--but with mother's packing there is somehow room enough--and you are speeding back to college. Glad? Yes--and sorry. But how much sorrier you would be if the rest were going back without you.