She had never heard of "The Iron Gates," could not place Alcona and Altona, was hazy as to the whereabouts of the Mourne Mountains, and utterly unable to draw an accurate map of the Balkan States.

She scored a little on Canada, for she had learnt North America last term at Miss Harmon's, but with Australia and New Zealand she was imperfectly acquainted.

She wrote away, getting hotter and hotter as she realized her deficiencies, winding up five minutes before the time allotted, in a flushed and decidedly inky condition.
At eleven a short interval was allowed, and the candidates thankfully adjourned.

Outside in the corridor they compared notes.
"Well, of all detestable papers this geography one is the limit!" declared an aggrieved voice.
It was the girl who had said that she always mixed Madras and Bombay, and who had studied her text-book up to the last available moment.
Apparently her eleventh hour industry had not sufficed to tide her over her difficulties.
"It was catchy in parts," agreed the owner of the swastika, "but I liked one or two questions.

I just happened to know them, so I bowled ahead.
That's what comes of wearing a mascot!" "Don't crow too soon!" laughed the girl with the fair pigtail.
"Remember, there are four other exams.