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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34986-h.zip b/34986-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8b7f07 --- /dev/null +++ b/34986-h.zip diff --git a/34986-h/34986-h.htm b/34986-h/34986-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f31e7de --- /dev/null +++ b/34986-h/34986-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4778 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Adventures of a Freshman, by Jesse Lynch Williams. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of a Freshman, by Jesse Lynch Williams + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Adventures of a Freshman + +Author: Jesse Lynch Williams + +Release Date: January 17, 2011 [EBook #34986] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A FRESHMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>The ADVENTURES</h1> + +<h1>OF A FRESHMAN</h1> + +<h3>By</h3> + +<h2>JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS</h2> + +<p class="center">Author of "Princeton Stories" and "The</p> + +<p class="center">Stolen Story and other Newspaper Stories"</p> + +<h4>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4> + +<h4>153-157 Fifth Avenue :: New York</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1899, by</p> + +<p class="center">Charles Scribner's Sons</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>To</h4> + +<h4>HENRY MEADE WILLIAMS</h4> + +<h4>A SUB-FRESHMAN</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 338px;"><a name="ILL_001" id="ILL_001"></a> +<img src="images/ill_001.jpg" width="338" height="500" alt="THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE SOPHOMORES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE SOPHOMORES<br /><br /> +"You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk.... We'll give you just five seconds to take off that ugly hat, and if you don't——"</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>The First Day at College</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>The "Big, Green Freshman from Squeedunk"</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>The Great Sophomore-Freshman Rush</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>Welcome and Unwelcome Visitors</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>Hazing</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>Work—Play—"Procs"</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>The Last Hazing of "The Meek Butt of all Classes"</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>How it Feels to be a Hero</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>A Question of Money</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>How he Stayed in College</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>The Trouble with being a Hero</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>Serving Two Masters</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>The Last Chance</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>"Home from College"</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>The End of it</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<h4><i>From drawings by Fletcher Ransom</i></h4> + +<p><a href="#ILL_001"><b>The First Encounter with the Sophomores</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk.... We'll give you +just five seconds to take off that ugly hat, and if you +don't——"</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_002"><b>After the Rush</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In walked ... the little Sophomore, and behind him a very +big Sophomore. Young recognised him as the one....</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_003"><b>Hazing</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile."</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_004"><b>The Hero of the Bell-Clapper</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Lee was one of the most prominent and popular men in the +class.</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_005"><b>"Meek Butt of all Classes!"</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day, +the whole college was talking about it.</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_006"><b>"The Invincibles"</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>They had a dignified negro waiter, and they dined in the +evening and it all seemed very fine and luxurious.</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_007"><b>2 <span class="smcap">a.m</span>.</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>However, after saying good night ... he would sneak off to +his room, tie a wet towel around his head, and pole....</p></div> + +<p><a href="#ILL_008"><b>The Meeting</b></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I don't know, mother," he said slowly, "I don't know...."</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE FIRST DAY AT COLLEGE</h3> + +<p>"Hi, there! you big Freshman, take off your hat—yes, we're talking to +<i>you</i>—take off your hat to the class above you—stop, don't try to get +by, my sober-faced young friend. That would not be nice of you."</p> + +<p>At first the Freshman did not understand that he was the one addressed, +and, when he did, his first startled impulse was to hurry by and pretend +not to notice them.</p> + +<p>But he could not now; the walk was blocked by this group of four fellows +who were now calmly smiling at him in an amused way, as if he were a +curious child,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> though really he was as old as any of them. The only way +he could avoid them was by turning back toward the street, and this he +would not do. So he stood his ground and looked straight back at them.</p> + +<p>"Well, you seem to enjoy looking; how do you like us, Freshman?" asked +one of the Sophomores, taking his pipe out of his mouth. Three of them +were smoking pipes and all four wore those queer striped-flannel coats +of broad orange and black that had attracted his attention when he first +got off the train. Afterward he learned that they were called blazers.</p> + +<p>They were close beside him now and they were looking him up and down. +One of them remarked to the others, "O, ye shades of Aaron Burr, but +this is a green one. What's your name, Freshman?"</p> + +<p>Then one of the others interrupted in a loud tone, "Take off your hat, +Freshman."</p> + +<p>It was the same high voice that had broken in upon him at the first. Its +owner was the shortest of the lot, but he smoked the longest pipe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Take off your hat," he commanded, "and don't look so sober. We aren't +going to hurt you."</p> + +<p>They were all looking at him. The Freshman felt himself blushing; he +smiled and tried to look good-natured.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't smile if I were you," put in one of the others; "your teeth +aren't even."</p> + +<p>The others laughed at this, but the small Sophomore said, "Come, wipe +away that smile and take off your hat, I tell you."</p> + +<p>The Freshman stopped smiling and looked up across the campus instead. +Two men were entering an old brown building, busily talking, their arms +about each other's shoulders; they seemed very happy. He shifted from +one foot to the other.</p> + +<p>"See here, Freshman," cried the little Sophomore, in an amazed tone, +"didn't you hear me tell you to take off your hat?" He had a large, +sneering mouth, and he constantly tried to say sarcastic things. He held +his chin elevated, as if to make himself a little taller, and the big +Freshman, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> down at him, thought how he would like to pick him up +and spank him. The Freshman had no intention of taking off his hat.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the Sophomore knew what he was thinking; at any rate, he stepped +up close to him, and shaking a finger under his face, he snarled out, +"You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk, you're the freshest one I've +seen yet. We'll give you just five seconds to take off that ugly hat, +and if you don't——"</p> + +<p>"Look out—look out! there comes Matt," in a quick, scared voice, one of +the others interrupted.</p> + +<p>Matthew Goldie, the famous old proctor, was sauntering down the walk +wriggling his fingers, as was his habit, and looking apparently in the +other direction. This was also his habit.</p> + +<p>Even in those days, before hazing was abolished by the undergraduate +vote, when it was thought, even by the Faculty, that hazing had its +redeeming features, it was a rather reckless proceeding for a crowd of +Sophomores to take a Freshman in hand on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> the front campus in broad +daylight and in plain sight of the Dean's house.</p> + +<p>The small Sophomore's pipe was not two inches from the Freshman's face +when the warning was sounded and Matt Goldie was coming straight down +the walk toward him, and yet, to the surprise of all, he went on in the +same earnest manner, only now he was saying:</p> + +<p>"I tell you, my dear sir, you will thank me all your life if you join +Whig Hall. Why, there is no comparing the two literary societies. Now, +just look at the records of the past years: In the first place, Whig +Hall was founded by President James Madison when he was a student +here"——and then the small Sophomore went glibly on with the arguments +the Whig men usually employ when claiming superiority to their rival +society, Clio Hall.</p> + +<p>Matthew Goldie had approached, come even with the group and passed by, +oblivious of its existence, apparently. But the Sophomores knew he was +not so oblivious as he looked, so they began to move off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good-by, Freshman," they said, laughingly, "sorry we have to leave you +so soon. Come on, Channing."</p> + +<p>But Channing lingered a moment. "What's your name?" he demanded</p> + +<p>The Freshman thought it was none of this fellow's business, but he +wanted to show he was not afraid. "Young," he said.</p> + +<p>"Your initials?"</p> + +<p>"My name is William Young, if you want to know," answered the Freshman, +decisively.</p> + +<p>"Willie, eh?"</p> + +<p>Those of the others who were near enough to hear laughed at this.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are rather old to be called Young—Willie Young, especially. +Hereafter you shall be known as 'Deacon Young.'"</p> + +<p>"Aw, come on, Chan," called the others.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Channing, but he turned to the Freshman as he started +off and remarked, threateningly, "We'll meet again, you big, green +Freshman."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," promptly returned Young, "you little, mouthy Sophomore."</p> + +<p>And this was the very worst thing he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> have said, as he was +afterward taught, if he had wanted to avoid hazing. He did not know that +the best way to get along with the Sophomores was to take their +initiating—not humbly, which was almost worse than getting mad about +it—but laughingly and good-naturedly, for as soon as he acknowledged +the fact that he was only a Freshman and recognized that he belonged to +the lowest of four grades of college importance, they would let him +alone.</p> + +<p>But Young was not of a sort readily to acknowledge subordination to +anybody, and he had never been hazed and he knew very little about +college custom and all that, because he had been a college man less than +twenty-four hours and the tray of his trunk was still unpacked.</p> + +<p>It was Wednesday afternoon, the first day of the term, and he was on his +way to chapel to attend the opening exercises of the college year, the +first real college duty of his life, and he had almost reached the +quadrangle when he was interrupted by the Sophomores and the +disagreeable voice which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> called, "Hi, there, Freshman," at him, and +which he thought he would never forget.</p> + +<p>And now he went on up the stone walk under the tall elms, wiping his +brow and telling himself that he was not homesick, but that he did not +propose to let anybody talk to him that way, even if he was green and +from the country, and he would show them.</p> + +<p>He was from the country, to be sure, but that had nothing to do with it. +He was guyed because he was a Freshman.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He was from the country, and he had come here to get a college +education, and he had worked hard to come. He meant to make the best of +his opportunities, and you could see that by the energetic way he strode +through the quadrangle and up the broad path to chapel and took his +place with two hundred others, who also were Freshmen and as green, many +of them, as he was, and trying just as hard not to show it, though he +did not know that. He thought they were upper-classmen and knew ever so +much, and were looking at him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE "BIG, GREEN FRESHMAN FROM SQUEEDUNK"</h3> + +<p>There were very important reasons why this particular Freshman had made +up his mind to do well at college. He had done very well at the High +School out at home, and it was one of the best in all Illinois. But that +was not the reason, nor had he graduated first in his class, indeed; one +of the girls did, as usual, though, to be sure, Young had done outside +studying with the minister and that was a handicap. He had a different +sort of reason for wanting to do well, now he was here at last.</p> + +<p>He could recall, as vividly as though it were yesterday, how his father +looked the time he said: "And I tell you now, once and forever, I ain't +going to spend my hard-earned money making a dude of any son<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> of mine; +and that's all I have to say about it. On the first of next month you're +going to get to work in the bank; and you ought to be glad of it. Few +farmers' sons have such chances."</p> + +<p>Young remembered how sarcastic seemed his father's answer to the +question, "Won't you just lend me the money, father? I'll pay it back +with interest, in time?"</p> + +<p>"Lend you money!—where's your collateral, hey?" and Mr. Young laughed.</p> + +<p>"Then that is your final decision, father?"</p> + +<p>"Final as I can make. If you go to college you pay your <i>own</i> way. +Good-night. I guess that settles it."</p> + +<p>Until this offer of the place in the bank came, just after Will's +graduation from the High School, his father had only said, "What's the +sense of going to college? You can't make any more money by it." And +Will had quietly gone on with his Greek lessons, not doubting that his +father would give his consent in the end. But now it was: "This is too +good a chance to miss, Will—why, you'll soon make a rich<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> man of +yourself. Of course, you must take it. What's the use of having your +father a director of the Farmers' National Bank, any way? You'll soon +get over your fool notions. Charlie hasn't any fool notions about +'higher education.' He's my right-hand man on the farm." And the farm +was one of the most prosperous in the county.</p> + +<p>Will knew his father and said nothing more, and on July 1st took the +place in the bank and began to work at $5 a week. But he did not get +over his fool notions.</p> + +<p>You see, ever since Young could remember, he had dreamed and planned +about going to college, and what is more he had put in a great many +hours of good, solid study with the minister during the past years +preparing himself for it, and in consequence it was often 'way after the +dark by the time he had driven out home and had finished his "chores." +And he did not propose to let all that work count for nothing. He had +made up his mind to get a university education.</p> + +<p>It was out of the question now to study all summer and enter the next +fall, but the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> minister told him he was still young; he could enter the +following year.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Your boy Will's catching on quicker than Henry Johnson or any of the +young men that ever worked under me yet." That's what the cashier said +to Mr. Young.</p> + +<p>"That means he's getting over his fool notions," thought Mr. Young. +Really it meant that he still had them. Will never mentioned the word +college to his father again; and to those of his old friends who said, +"Oh, so you aren't going East after all: why's that?" he merely replied +in effect that that was <i>his</i> business, and bent over the ledger again.</p> + +<p>He knew that most of the town was talking and laughing about him because +from the time he first announced (with a somewhat superior air, perhaps) +what he intended to do after leaving the High School, more than one of +them thought, and said, that it was a queer idea for Will Young to go to +college when he did not want to be a preacher or a professional man; not +so very many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> boys went to college from that part of the country.</p> + +<p>But Will did not worry about that very much. He did not have time. He +was working every day in the bank from eight o'clock in the morning +until five or six in the evening—until nine or ten at night, sometimes, +on the first of the month—and was besides doing all the chores for Miss +Wilkins, with whom he boarded. And that was not all the work he did, +either. Those who passed by Miss Wilkins's house late at night generally +noticed a light in the little third-story window long after all the +other boarders' rooms were dark. And the nights he was not studying in +his room he was reciting at the minister's.</p> + +<p>It is no easy thing to save money on $5 a week, and pay board and buy +clothes and incidentals out of it besides. That was the reason he did +the chores for Miss Wilkins. He got his board for that, and he earned +it.</p> + +<p>Out of the first month's salary Will saved $10. Fifty per cent of +earnings saved is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> a bad proportion. Out of the second month's +earnings he saved $25.</p> + +<p>That may sound impossible, but you see they had raised his salary to $10 +a week as they promised to do as soon as he had made himself worth it. +Besides, Mr. Young was a director.</p> + +<p>It was very slow and sometimes it seemed very discouraging, and he did +not know how he could have succeeded if it had not been for the Sunday +afternoon talks with his mother, who was with him from the start in the +project; and for the minister, who used to say, "You seem to think a +fellow must be a millionaire to go to college."</p> + +<p>The minister had a frank, friendly unstilted manner of talking, that +made some of the older people shake their heads and think him +unclerical.</p> + +<p>"Why, there are hundreds of fellows," the minister said, "paying their +own way through every year, and if you can't do it I'm mistaken in you. +That is one reason," the minister explained, "though not the most +important one, why I advised you to go to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> large college. There are so +many more ways of earning money. There are more eating-clubs to be +managed (and all the manager has to do is collect a tableful of +congenial fellows and then he gets his own board free). There are more +men that want tutoring at a large institution, and the price of tutoring +is better, too—(a man in my class in the seminary used to get $3 an +hour); and there are more newspapers to correspond for and shoe-stores +and steam-laundries and railroads to act as agents for—why, there are +any number of ways to earn money if you only look out for them. And, as +I told you before, the college authorities will remit your tuition if +you show that it is necessary and if," said the minister, smiling, "if +you can give testimonials of high moral character. All you have to do +this year is to make enough to get started on, and that's what you are +rapidly doing."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One day after Will Young had been working in the bank for nearly a year +his father burst into the kitchen. "Mother," he shouted to his wife, +almost excitedly, "what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> do you think? Will is going to resign from the +bank! I just now heard it in town."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Young, gently, "I know."</p> + +<p>"What does he mean by it! He has had his salary raised twice inside of a +year. He'll be made assistant cashier soon. Why, the boy's a fool. Does +he expect to get a better place up in Chicago?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Young. "He only went to Chicago on his vacation to take +his examinations for college and——"</p> + +<p>"For college! Chicago!"</p> + +<p>"And to buy his clothes—yes, they hold the examinations all over the +country." Then she went on, "You remember, father, you said Will could +go if he earned his own money, and now——"</p> + +<p>"When did I say that?" thundered Mr. Young; and then the storm broke. It +was rather severe while it lasted, but it did not last as long as she +had feared it would. Mr. Young was just, and he had to acknowledge, +inwardly, that Will was right from his standpoint, though it was a sore +disappointment:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> and he saw no reason why Will should be forgiven.</p> + +<p>"We'll see how long you stay there," was what Mr. Young said in bidding +Will good-by. He knew about how much his son had been able to save.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir," said Will, feeling sorry his father would not give his +approval even now. "Good-by, sir." And he glanced at his mother once +more and then looked away again, and the train pulled out. A moment +later he had a last, distant view of the straight white farmhouse, as +the cars dashed by, and of the big red barn with white trimmings, and +the wind-brake of tall, straight poplars, to the north, in even row, +planted by his father's own hand before Will was born; he saw their tops +waving in the breeze as they were cut off from view—and all that seemed +years and years ago, though, in reality, it was only Monday, the day +before yesterday, and here he was at last, actually at college and +sitting in chapel listening to the President's kind words of welcome; +and feeling somewhat important at being one of those particularly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +addressed by such a famous and learned man and feeling very proud at the +thought that he was part of such an ancient and mighty seat of +learning—and hoping that the small account he had opened at the +Princeton Bank was going to tide him over till an opportunity for +earning money turned up.</p> + +<p>As he and his many classmates trooped forth into the sunny outdoors +again some orange-and-black-bedecked Sophomores on the steps murmured, +"right, left, right, left," in time to their footsteps, and then Will +Young did not feel so proud and important.</p> + +<p>But this big, green Freshman did not take off his hat to them as some of +his classmates did. In fact his hat did not come off until the evening +of the following day—and then not quite in the way you might expect.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE GREAT SOPHOMORE-FRESHMAN RUSH</h3> + +<p>Freshman Young had an experience on the second night of his college +course that he was never to forget. And few of those who shared it with +him forgot it, and not many of the hundreds of other men that have been +in college before and since have forgotten similar experiences of their +own on the second or third night of college existence. Not one of them +would care to miss it if he had it to do over again.</p> + +<p>He was in his room going over for the fifth time the Latin passages in +Livy, Book I. The recitation came the first thing in the morning. That +meant at half-past eight, immediately after chapel.</p> + +<p>His room was on the third story, back, of a queer, old-fashioned house +in a still queerer, old, crooked street called Canal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> Street, because, +he supposed, it led down to the canal. The little room seemed quite bare +and cheerless, but he did not mind that. He had got down to work as a +"college man."</p> + +<p>That day, for the first time, he had met his professors in the classroom +along with the other Freshmen of his division. He was the last man of +the last division, because his last name began with Y. Later on in the +term, when they were to be divided according to rank, he would not be in +the last division; he had made up his mind to that. So he was going over +the Livy lesson for the fifth time, although he had worked it all out +during the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Perhaps there was another reason for keeping his mind so busy. The old +white farmhouse with the well-trimmed lawn and the evergreen trees in +front and the tall, straight wind-pump to the west, and beyond that the +long, level sweeps of rich prairie acres, all seemed very far away +to-night. "I'm not homesick—of course not," he told himself, but all +the same he thought he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> study better if he could hear the old +wind-pump go "kitty-chunk, kitty-chunk," as when he was studying his +High School lessons on windy winter nights, long ago; so long that it +all seemed like a different existence.</p> + +<p>It was because he was thinking very hard about that previous existence +that he started so when he suddenly heard a sound—away off in the +distance. It was in the direction of the campus. It was someone singing. +It was nothing to get excited over; men in the upper classes were all +the time going around in groups lazily singing, laughing and talking, +and looking as if they never thought of their studies. So he turned over +the leaves of his book again. But after awhile this singing came nearer +and nearer.</p> + +<p>There were many voices, all singing in concert, if not all in tune, but +Young did not notice that fault, for just then the singing stopped—the +quick, short college cheer cut through the air, and on the end of the +cheer the Freshman class numerals—<i>his</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> class numerals. He waited a +moment to make sure. Then it came again:</p> + +<p class="center">"Ray! Ray! Ray! Tiger! Siss-boom-ah! Ninety-blank!"</p> + +<p>Then another one, a "long cheer" this time—the same as the other except +that the Siss, the Boom, and the Ah were prolonged impressively: "Ray! +Ray! Ray! Tiger—sisses! Boom-m! Ah-h-h—Ninety-blank!"</p> + +<p>Now, it gives a freshman a peculiar thrill the first time he hears many +voices shouting in concert for his class. Young's heart began to thump. +"That's my class," he said to himself, and then he turned to his books +again because he had not come to college to have a good time, but to +study. But he sighed a little.</p> + +<p>Now the voices began singing to the tune of "Balm of Gilead":</p> + +<p>"Here's to Ninety—blank—Drink her down—drink her down—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">"Here's to Ninety-blank—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Drink her down—drink her down,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Here's to Ninety-blank—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">For she's always——"</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>something that rhymed with the other part of Ninety.</p> + +<p>Young put down his book for a minute.</p> + +<p>They were coming still nearer.</p> + +<p>He could hear some of the individual voices now.</p> + +<p>Up Dickinson Street they came.</p> + +<p>They turned the corner at Canal Street.</p> + +<p>Now they halted.</p> + +<p>Then a shrill voice shouted, "Now then, altogether, fellows, Hip! hip!"</p> + +<p>"Ninety-blank! this! way!!" the many shouted in unison. It made a great +noise.</p> + +<p>Young opened his window.</p> + +<p>"Once more," cried the shrill voice.</p> + +<p>The call was repeated.</p> + +<p>Young stuck his head out.</p> + +<p>"Now then, fellows, a good rousing cheer for the honor of your class. +Let everybody talk. Hip, hip!"</p> + +<p>And the cheer fairly shook the house.</p> + +<p>"Now then," commanded the clear, shrill voice, "Ninety-blank this way +again once more—Hip, hip!"</p> + +<p>Young drew his head in from the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> and the next minute he was +running downstairs three steps at a time. He could not help it.</p> + +<p>Two other Freshmen joined him from neighboring houses on the way to the +corner.</p> + +<p>There, with the street light glaring dimly upon them, stood the Freshman +class, or most of it, closely drawn up four abreast, cheering for itself +with all its might. The Juniors were leading the cheers with energetic +waving of the arms; other Juniors were marshalling the forces.</p> + +<p>Young and his two unknown companions began to run as they drew nearer, +and those in the rear ranks hearing their footsteps gave a yell of +welcome. It sounded like a prolonged "Yea-a-a."</p> + +<p>The three new-comers modestly fell in at the rear. A quick-stepping +nervous Junior came down the line looking each row over as he came +along. He wore glasses, Young noticed, and a faded orange-and-black +blazer.</p> + +<p>"Here, you big fellow, you'll do to go in front," he said, in a voice +husky from cheering,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> and with that Young was taken by the arm, led way +up to one of the front rows, shoved in beside three other fellows, and +the Junior said, "Now, Tommy, that row's complete."</p> + +<p>The Freshman next to Young grabbed him by the coat-sleeve and locked an +arm through his as if they had been comrades for four years instead of +just about to be.</p> + +<p>He had on a soiled canvas football jacket and was hatless. His hair was +long. "How much do you weigh, old man?" he asked in an excited manner. +There was a lull in the cheering; everyone seemed to be whispering and +chatting nervously; some of those in the rear were laughing at what one +of the Juniors was telling them.</p> + +<p>"About one hundred and eighty-five pounds," said Young to his neighbor +wondering who he was and what kind of a fellow.</p> + +<p>"Good! I weigh a hundred and seventy-nine and a half, stripped, just +now—go up, though, after training awhile. You play football, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>Young had never seen real football played,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> but he did not like to say +so—and he did not have to, for just then another cheer was demanded and +they both joined in with the rest of the class, shouting with all their +might, and then the command to march was given, and the line started +forward, irregularly at first and with much treading upon heels, until +one of the Juniors shouted, "Spread out, fellows, spread out; you'll +have" (laughing) "all the close rank work you want when you get on the +campus," and then someone put them in step by saying, "Hep!... Hep!... +Hep!" And when the column was in step, a Junior in the rear who had a +high tenor voice started up the famous marching time of</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">"Hoorah! Hoorah!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 27em;">The flag that set us free.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Hoorah! Hoorah!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 27em;">The year of jubilee."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>only the words they used were:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 28em;">"Nassau! Nassau!</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 29em;">Ring out the chorus free—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 28em;">Nassau! Nassau!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 29em;">Thy jolly sons are we.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Care shall be forgotten, all our sorrows flung away,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">While we are marching through Princeton!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll do 'em!" remarked Young's comrade, excitedly, at the +conclusion of the song.</p> + +<p>Young wanted to say something in reply, but he did not know who "they" +were or how they were to be done. So he only said, "Think so?"</p> + +<p>"Dead easy—we outnumber them three to two."</p> + +<p>Soon the main street, Nassau Street, was reached; and by that time, +after much cheering and many "This ways," nearly two hundred Freshmen +were in the ranks and shouting like good fellows.</p> + +<p>The line turned down toward the main college gate.</p> + +<p>Along both sides of the streets walked a crowd of onlookers: +upper-classmen in flannel clothes seeming mildly interested in what was +to them an old story; little town boys in short trousers shouting "Ray +for de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> Freshmans!" and looking forward with excitement to what was +never an old story to them. The shopkeepers were standing in their doors +to see them pass. Upstairs windows opened and heads stuck out.</p> + +<p>In a pause between the verses of a song Young heard, far off in the +distance, the quick eager: "Ray! Ray! Ray! Tiger, siss, boom, ah!" of +the short cheer. It was much more sharply and crisply given than the +cheers he had joined in, and on the end of it came the numerals of the +Sophomore class.</p> + +<p>Now, he had understood vaguely that there was to be some sort of contest +between his class and the Sophomores, but this blatant, confident cheer +away off somewhere in the distant, indefinite darkness, gave him a +start; just for a moment he felt frightened. He was not the only one.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll do 'em," said the man next to Young.</p> + +<p>"Dead easy!" said Young, this time.</p> + +<p>They had passed the first gate by the Dean's house and were marching in +good order down the broad old street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>"Column right—wheel!" said the Junior in front, and they turned in at +the carriage entrance.</p> + +<p>Before he quite realized it Young found himself walking on the soft, +green turf of the campus itself.</p> + +<p>The singing had ceased. The talking stopped now. Nothing could be heard +but the "tr'm, tr'm, tr'm," of many feet taking many steps at the same +instant.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" said one of the Juniors in a whisper. "Form close ranks—lock +step." The long line began to concentrate.</p> + +<p>Another of the Juniors went down the line saying, in a low voice, "Put +your caps in your pockets, fellows—put your caps in your pockets, +fellows." Many of them had already done so. Some only pulled theirs on +tighter.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready back there, Tommy?" asked one of the Juniors.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jack."</p> + +<p>The man hugging Young's arm whispered, "That's Jack Stehman, the great +tackle."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Young, looking admiringly at the powerful-looking football +hero.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now then, fellows," Stehman was saying to the Freshmen, "the Sophomores +are lined up and waiting for you over by West College; one of our men +has just come from there. You fellows are nearly fifty men stronger than +they are. Stick together and you'll rush them dead easy."</p> + +<p>At this four or five excited Freshmen started a faint cheer but it was +crushed down by several vigorous "sishes!" "Keep your mouths shut," said +one of the other Juniors.</p> + +<p>"Now, follow me and, mind, <i>stick together</i>, what<i>ever</i> you do. Stick +together!" This was big Jack Stehman again. Young admired him; hoped to +become well acquainted with him some day.</p> + +<p>The compact mass moved forward, their bodies close together and their +legs and feet beneath taking quick short steps as best they could. It +was like a huge dark centipede, except that centipedes probably do not +step on so many of their heels at once.</p> + +<p>On either side walked upper-classmen, some calmly smoking pipes as if +there was nothing to be excited about, laughing lightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> and making +remarks. The way they looked at Young and his companions reminded him of +his father and the other farmers judging live stock at the county fair.</p> + +<p>"Pretty good looking Freshman class, Harry," said one fellow whose face +Young couldn't see in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Um," said the one addressed, nodding. "There's a fellow, looks——" +Young lost the rest of it.</p> + +<p>Up the gravel driveway the black mass crept toward the opening between +the dark Library and darker Dickinson Hall.</p> + +<p>Young was grabbing tight hold of the Freshman in front of him and +wondering what would come next.</p> + +<p>They were just through the opening and were about to turn toward the +quadrangle. Suddenly there was a rumbling sound, like distant thunder.</p> + +<p>Then shouted Jack Stehman, the big Junior: "Here they come! here they +come. Now then keep together, fellows, keep together, keep +together—come at 'em <i>hard</i>!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now the many feet of the Freshman column began to rumble. On they +plunged, increasing their speed every second.</p> + +<p>The spectators on either side sprang back. On came the Sophomores with +still more momentum, showing a front row of hardened football men with +football suits. A distant light shone on them and Young had a vivid +glimpse of their determined faces.</p> + +<p>Then, with the Juniors crying, "Come faster! come faster! stick +together!" and the Seniors who coached the Sophomores shouting, "Rush +'em, rush 'em, rush 'em!" the two lines came together.</p> + +<p>Young was conscious of a dull crunching "thrump." It sounded as if bones +were breaking, though none was. Then he saw the two rows in front of him +lifted up in mid-air. The front rows of Sophomores were squeezed up +also. It was like colliding trains of cars. Young could see them up +there struggling, could hear them straining and grunting and pushing and +shouting while the distant light gleamed on their dishevelled hair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now! now! that's the way—now we're getting them!" one of the Juniors +was shrieking.</p> + +<p>"That's the way!" yelled another.</p> + +<p>"Stick together!" roared Stehman, jumping in and shoving mightily +himself. He seemed as strong and as regardless of his body as a mad +bull, and yet he was as calm as a man loading hay.</p> + +<p>"Rush 'em off the campus! Rush the Freshmen!" shouted the Seniors now +becoming alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Yea-a-! we're doing 'em," panted the well-built man beside Young. +"Shove! shove! shove!"</p> + +<p>Young was straining and shoving with his teeth set and he felt as if his +ribs would soon break. But he had the exultant joy of victory. His feet +were off the ground and he was being carried along by the force of those +behind him.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores had tried to take them by surprise before they got up the +grade by the Library. If they had been successful they would have made +short work of the Freshmen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> As it was they had more momentum, but in +hurrying across the campus to accomplish their design their lines had +become loose. The Freshmen, on the other hand, were solid through and +through, and now the compact mass in the rear was beginning to tell. The +Freshmen were shoving the Sophomores back. Young heard shouts of +victory.</p> + +<p>But at this point the usual and natural result took place. The lines +were too long for their width, and so it was only for a moment that they +kept straight head to head; the pushing from behind bent them and they +doubled in upon themselves. The Freshmen 'way back there in the rear +thinking the Sophomores had retreated rushed on hard, shouting for their +class and their victory, while at the same time part of the Sophomores +did the same thing on the other side. And so sections of each column +passed each other shouting, "Rush 'em!" and the rest turned around on +each other and got hopelessly mixed up and excited. In this mix there +was much shouting and considerable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> cap-grabbing and some rough work. +And the confused, disorganized Freshmen did not know just what was going +on until a sudden cry went up, "Look out! look out! Here they come +again."</p> + +<p>"Get in line—for Heaven's sake," hurriedly shouted a Junior, and "This +way," roared big Stehman, "<i>this</i> way, I tell you, you fools!"</p> + +<p>But it was too late. The rumbling was heard again, and from an +unexpected direction, and before the huddling Freshmen could even get +started, a compact mass of Sophomores came pounding down upon them, +ploughed through them, knocked some of them over and came out solid on +the other side.</p> + +<p>Then there was great shouting among the Sophomores, with much blatant, +exultant cheering.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the rallying cry of "Ninety-blank this way!" began ringing out +again. It was over by the quadrangle and now the scattered Freshmen were +scurrying over toward the sound of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ninety-blank?" shouted a boyish voice in Young's ear not two feet away +from it.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Young, excitedly, and took the owner of it by the arm and +hurried along through the crowd toward their comrades.</p> + +<p>Just then an unseen hand made a grab at Young's hat—off it went; and +the grabber dodged out of sight in the crowd and darkness.</p> + +<p>"There goes my hat," said Young.</p> + +<p>"Mine went long ago," said his new-found comrade, meaning ten seconds +before. He was a little fellow and seemed very young. "We oughtn't to +have taken them out of our pockets." He was laughing excitedly as he ran +along.</p> + +<p>They hurried into line with the others by West College.</p> + +<p>A Junior dressed in a conspicuous white flannel suit came running over, +shouting, "The Sophs are just beginning to form over there by the +cannon. Hurry and you can get them on the flank."</p> + +<p>"All right," cried Jack Stehman, "come on, fellows. Never mind weights +and sizes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> Now do something, do something for your class."</p> + +<p>"Come on," called another, "this time we get the cannon!"</p> + +<p>Without waiting for all the class to collect, or for perfect formation, +the Freshman column dashed down at the thick of the Sophomores who now +stopped giving "This-way" shouts and started forward to meet their +opponents. They knew that to be caught napping meant to be rushed, and +then the Freshmen would gain the coveted cannon.</p> + +<p>Again the two columns met like two big waves, and like spray the front +lines were dashed on high. Young was up there this time, literally face +to face with the Sophomores. He could see them straining and grunting +and pushing like himself. The little fellow that had fallen in rank +beside him was up there too, being tossed about like a cork.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores were only half prepared for the attack, and were being +charged back; Young felt them giving way before him. It felt good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hold them, hold them, fellows!" shouted the Seniors, and some of them +pitched in to help their allies, the Sophomores.</p> + +<p>But they could not hold them, and the little fellow beside Young began +screaming, "We're rushing 'em! we're rushing the Sophs," in the +Sophomores' very faces.</p> + +<p>A big Sophomore in the front rank got one arm free, reached up and +struck the little fellow in the face, then got hold of his coat and +began to jerk the little one down.</p> + +<p>Young reached over, grabbed the big Sophomore's wrist and freed his +little classmate. "Hi! Deacon!" cried a disagreeable voice somewhere in +the rows of Sophomores before him. Young was devoting all his energy to +the little fellow whose nose was now bleeding; this did not seem to +bother the latter, for he wriggled around, nimbly clambered up on +Young's big shoulders, then kneeling on them and having free play for +his arms he began to strike right and left at the Sophomores beneath him +as fast as he could, and he seemed to be able to strike both fast and +hard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>Seeing his pluck those behind him now plunged forward harder than ever.</p> + +<p>"Yea-a-a—the cannon—the cannon, we've got it!" cried the little +fellow.</p> + +<p>Young felt himself brushing up against something hard and solid. Sure +enough it was the big iron breech of the old cannon that he had seen +standing muzzle down, in the centre of the quadrangle.</p> + +<p>The little fellow jumped down from Young's shoulders upon it, and began +to lead a cheer, though he did not know how to do it very well. But he +waved his hands about his head and everyone yelled exultingly. They had +won.</p> + +<p>Then Jack Stehman, the Junior coach, hustled the little one off, jumped +up on the cannon himself and led a cheer in the right way. The little +fellow was out of sight now, but not out of memory. He was a hero.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 381px;"><a name="ILL_002" id="ILL_002"></a> +<img src="images/ill_002.jpg" width="381" height="500" alt="AFTER THE RUSH." title="" /> +<span class="caption">AFTER THE RUSH.<br /><br /> +In walked ... the little Sophomore, and behind him a very big Sophomore. Young recognized him as the one....</span> +</div> + +<p>Meanwhile some of the other Sophomores had zealously rushed some of the +other Freshmen off the quadrangle and were shouting themselves hoarse +for <i>their</i> victory down by Clio Hall, but the Freshmen had the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> cannon. +That was what they were after all this time, as Young now learned.</p> + +<p>"It's all over now. Go home, you fellows," said the hoarse-voiced +Juniors, silencing the exuberant Freshmen.</p> + +<p>"We rushed them, though, didn't we?" eagerly asked a Freshman with +necktie gone and coat torn half off. Young saw it was his small comrade.</p> + +<p>"'Course you did," said Jack Stehman, his voice sounding gruff and +authoritative. "Go to your rooms as fast as you can; Sophs'll haze tar +out of you if they catch you to-night. They expected to have an easy +thing of it."</p> + +<p>The little fellow had spied Young. "Good-night," he said, holding out +his hand, "much obliged for what you did. My name's Lee."</p> + +<p>"Young is my name." They shook hands. "Hope you aren't hurt," Young +added, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Nope; see you again. Good-night."</p> + +<p>The Freshmen now began to scatter in all directions in the darkness, +some of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> limping and some of them going slowly because out of +breath; and some had fewer garments than when they left their rooms. But +all had a great deal more class spirit, and that is the object of the +cannon rush. There was not one among them who would have missed it for +anything.</p> + +<p>Young reached his room without adventure. He limped a little as he went +upstairs, but he did not know it.</p> + +<p>He had been in his room but a few moments when a knock came at the door. +He had had no callers before this.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said Young, cheerfully. He thought perhaps it was Lee.</p> + +<p>In walked Channing, the little Sophomore, and behind him a very big +Sophomore, dressed in a football suit. Young recognized him as the one +that struck little Lee, and he seemed to recognize Young; at least he +grinned and showed the place where a front tooth was gone.</p> + +<p>And Channing wore Young's hat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>WELCOME AND UNWELCOME VISITORS</h3> + +<p>Suppose you were a Freshman and hazing were still in vogue, and the +first callers in your college course were two Sophomores, and each of +them had reasons for wanting to humiliate you, and one of the fellows +was a football player with muscles larger than your own; how would you +feel if they strode into your room, looking arrogant?</p> + +<p>You, possibly, might not mind it. If so, Will Young was different from +you, for he felt very queer as he arose from his chair.</p> + +<p>Channing said, "How do you do, Mr. Young?" Then, closing the door so the +landlady might not hear, "Well, Deacon," with his sarcastic smile, +"we've come for you."</p> + +<p>Young said nothing. Instinctively he offered chairs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is Deacon Young of Squeedunk, the freshest man in the class, +Bally. Bow, Freshman, to Mr. Ballard, of whom you have doubtless +heard—the famous centre rush of the famous Sophomore football eleven +that will do your futile Freshman team up so badly you can't see, later +in the term."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," said the big fellow to Young, in a very big voice, "never +sit on chairs." He had seated himself on Young's table, with one foot on +a chair, and was looking around the room as Channing went on:</p> + +<p>"We secured several of your charming classmates on the campus. They +aren't far away from here now." Ballard chuckled at this. "But we missed +you on the campus, Deacon. You must have run home after the rush."</p> + +<p>The Sophomores both laughed at this, but Young said nothing, and +wondered how Channing had found out where he roomed.</p> + +<p>"You have given us some trouble. That is unfortunate for you. But you +were kind enough yesterday to oblige me with your name; so I went to the +registrar's office and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> asked where my dear old friend Willie Young +roomed. I told them I wanted to look you up and take care of you. We'll +take care of you, all right—eh, Bally?"</p> + +<p>Ballard laughed his loud laugh at this way of talking. He thought +Channing very witty, and so did Channing.</p> + +<p>Young was leaning against the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>"But we mustn't waste time here," Channing went on; "pick up your hat +and come on like a good little boy; we're all going for a nice little +stroll to the canal together."</p> + +<p>Young had heard, since he last saw Channing, what the Sophomores did +with Freshmen at the canal. He did not move.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I forgot," said Channing, "you have no hat; you lost yours in the +rush this evening, didn't you? Well, well, that was too bad. You will +have to go bareheaded. However, Freshman," he added, patronizingly +stern, "this will teach you a good lesson—two good lessons. In the +first place, little Willie must wear a cap and not a big felt hat like +this." He took Young's hat off his own head and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> looked at it +critically. "I suppose this is the latest thing out at Squeedunkville."</p> + +<p>Ballard grinned. Young flushed and bit his lip.</p> + +<p>"In the second place, you must always take it off when you meet your +superiors and thus save us the trouble of taking it off for you; and," +he added, looking out of the window in the direction of the canal, "and +so save yourself some trouble also."</p> + +<p>Ballard was now beginning to look interested. "I guess the Freshman's +got another hat in his closet," he said, gruffly. Then he commanded, "Go +get it, Freshman, and come on." Ballard was standing now.</p> + +<p>Young did have a hat—a derby hat, the one he wore on the train and when +he first arrived—in his closet, but he did not go and get it, and he +did not come on.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you hear what I said?" growled Ballard. "Come on." He let +Channing do the guying, but he liked to take a hand in the bossing +himself.</p> + +<p>Apparently Young heard nothing; he had not said a word, and he was +quietly looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> down at the carpet, but his heart was beating fast.</p> + +<p>"Now, see here, Deacon," said Channing, "we don't want to have any +trouble with you. Are you going to come along peacefully and have an +easy time of it, or are you going to make a little trouble for us and a +lot for yourself?"</p> + +<p>Young did not speak or look up. He seemed to be moving his tongue about +in his cheek.</p> + +<p>Ballard approached him. "You won't come, eh?" he said, angrily. And with +that he took him by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Take your hands off me," said the Freshman, shrilly, and wrenched +quickly away, backing up against the wall. He stood there breathing +hard, and he glanced from one Sophomore to the other.</p> + +<p>Now, it is not the easiest thing in the world for a big man and a little +man to drag out of a room one very good-sized man who looks as if he had +made up his mind to stay in it. At any rate, to do it without +considerable noise is impossible. Therefore Channing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> stepped across to +the open window, stuck his head out, and gave a long, peculiar whistle. +He waited a moment and then repeated it Then an answer came back from +the distance.</p> + +<p>"We'll soon fix <i>you</i>, Deacon," he remarked, nodding his head, as he +returned from the window.</p> + +<p>Young was still standing backed up against the wall. Ballard, braced +against the door opposite to prevent the Freshman's escape, was +scowling.</p> + +<p>"They'll be here in a minute," said Channing.</p> + +<p>He referred to the classmates he had signalled to. You see if they had +all come in together it would have aroused the landlady's suspicions. As +it was, Channing had been obliged to tell her that Ballard and himself +represented the college Y. M. C. A., and that they wanted to ask Mr. +Young to join it.</p> + +<p>"When they whistle I'll tip-toe down and let them in," said Channing. +"Listen! What's that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>Footsteps were heard coming up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"They couldn't have gotten here so soon," said Ballard.</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear any whistle," said Channing.</p> + +<p>The footsteps came nearer.</p> + +<p>"Is this the room?" said a voice just outside the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the one," came the reassuring tones of the landlady below.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores had stopped talking.</p> + +<p>A knock.</p> + +<p>No reply.</p> + +<p>Another knock.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said Young, defiantly.</p> + +<p>Ballard stepped to one side.</p> + +<p>The door opened.</p> + +<p>"Is this Mr. Young?"</p> + +<p>"That's my name," said Young. "Come in." He was still standing by the +mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>A dark-eyed, strong-faced, matured-looking man with rather long hair +stood in the doorway. "I am Nolan," he said, "of the Junior class, and +this is Mr. Linton," turning to a man behind him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hello there, Ballard," Nolan said, casually then suddenly taking in the +situation and smiling, "sorry to spoil your fun," he said. "Hello, +where's your young friend going in such a hurry?"</p> + +<p>Channing was seen slipping out of the still open door. "I'll be right +back," he said, grinning. The whistle had sounded while Nolan and Linton +were entering the room, and Channing wanted to get down in time to—but +it was too late. The Juniors had left the front door open when they +entered, and now the other Sophomores were on the way up the second +flight of stairs. "Where's the Freshman's room, Chan?" they said, in a +loud whisper.</p> + +<p>"Wait, there's no use coming now," began Channing.</p> + +<p>But Linton was now at the head of the stairs saying, in an amused tone: +"Oh, come right up; don't mind us." So, rather than seem afraid of the +Juniors they trooped in, all six of them looking as if caught at +something they were ashamed of.</p> + +<p>Linton smiled drolly at one of the Sophomores<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> he happened to know +personally. "Hard luck, Valentine," he said.</p> + +<p>Nolan nodded gravely to one or two of them, and they said, "How do you +do?" very respectfully.</p> + +<p>No one said anything else for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Don't let us interrupt you," said Channing, grinning.</p> + +<p>"We had no intention of being interrupted," said Linton, without looking +up. And Freshman Young noticed that the others seemed to consider this a +good joke on Channing, and Channing noticed that Young noticed it, and +this was one thing more to remember against Young.</p> + +<p>"By the way," Linton went on in a lazy, matter-of-fact way, as he began +filling a pipe, "perhaps it would be just as well if you fellows all got +up and got out of here now. Billy and I came here to talk hall to this +Freshman, and we have a number of others to call on, and Billy mustn't +stay up late these days, you know."</p> + +<p>"Billy" meant Nolan, the one with long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> hair, and he was a university +football man, and the training season had begun.</p> + +<p>Linton made this remark in an ordinary tone, as if it were the most +natural thing in the world to request seven or eight men to leave a +room. He struck a match for his pipe as he finished speaking, and then +lifted his feet up on the table and leaned back without looking at the +under-classmen.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores said, "All right," meekly arose, murmured, "Good-night," +and smiling rather sheepishly departed.</p> + +<p>Young looked on with mingled feelings. They outnumbered the Juniors +seven to two, and yet the arrogant Sophomores did not even question the +Junior's power. He was learning something about these traditions and +customs; evidently the authority was not in bodily strength.</p> + +<p>But the two upper-classmen, without waiting to see what became of the +Sophomores, began forthwith to tell Young how different were the two +secret literary societies, whose mysterious, Greek temples looked so +much alike there side by side on the campus, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> to point out how +superior was their own "hall," as they called it.</p> + +<p>Nolan, who was a famous orator in this hall, did most of the talking. +Linton only put in a word now and then, but he kept glancing at the +Freshman in a queer, quizzical way as he blew smoke. When they arose to +go Linton said, in a pleasant tone:</p> + +<p>"I suppose the Sophomores are bothering you a good deal?"</p> + +<p>Young wondered what made Linton say so. "No," he replied; "they tried to +make me take off my hat yesterday, but I wouldn't do it."</p> + +<p>He thought that would impress these upper-classmen.</p> + +<p>Linton glanced at Nolan, who smiled.</p> + +<p>"Say, Young," said Linton, kindly, "of course it's none of my business, +but—well, I'd take off my hat if I were you."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, because you're a Freshman."</p> + +<p>"But what right have they to make me take off my hat to them? They +aren't any better than——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because they're Sophomores. Come on, Billy." He opened the door. "You +think it over, Young. Good-night. Glad to have met you, Young."</p> + +<p>Then on his way downstairs he added to his friend Billy Nolan, "I like +that big, green Freshman, but he needs hazing."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> rather fresh. Do you think we'll secure him, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"But you can hardly blame him for taking himself so seriously," Linton +went on as they gained the street "You see he has always lived at home, +didn't go away to prep. school, was never guyed or anything of that sort +in all his innocent life, and he doesn't know how to take it. He was an +important person at home—probably led his class at the High School—has +a lot of little brothers and sisters that bow down to him; and they've +told him that he is a great man so often that he thinks there must be +something in it. His hands show he has worked on a farm, but the palms +are soft now—I noticed that shaking hands—so he's probably clerked in +a store or taught school; yes, he's probably taught school."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Linton considered himself a student of human nature, and he did guess +pretty well this time, though Young had no sisters and had never taught +school.</p> + +<p>"Anyway," he concluded, and in this he was right, perhaps, "college will +be a great thing for him. No one ever made him realize his relative +unimportance in the world."</p> + +<p>"As we made big Bally realize it last year," interposed Nolan, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and as we, too, were made to realize it the year before. My, what +a big chump you'd have been, Billy, if you hadn't been hazed."</p> + +<p>"And, oh, what a supercilious ass you'd have made, Jim. Do you remember +that time——"</p> + +<p>And these two walked on toward the campus with arms thrown carelessly +about each others' shoulders, reminiscencing about days which, to hear +them talk, you would have thought were half a generation ago; and so +they were—half a college generation.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Young was doing what Linton had told him to do, thinking over +what had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> been said to him. Also he thought over what he had observed +when the Juniors and Sophomores were in the room together, and he came +to certain conclusions. Then he went to bed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>HAZING</h3> + +<p>The very next evening, as Young and a classmate named Barrows were on +the way from supper, someone stepped out from behind a tree-box and +said, "Here he is, fellows," and the next moment the two Freshmen, +surrounded by a dozen Sophomores, were on their way to the canal.</p> + +<p>Channing acted as ringmaster, as usual. To his surprise and, perhaps, +disappointment, Young was not sullen or stubborn; he seemed rather +good-natured about it.</p> + +<p>"Take off your hat, Deacon."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Young, smiling cheerfully, and lifted his hat.</p> + +<p>"Do it again and don't smile."</p> + +<p>He did it again and did not smile.</p> + +<p>"Who said you could put it back on your head? Take it off and keep it +off."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Young held it in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Put it on again," shouted Channing. And so it went.</p> + +<p>"Now, Deacon, since you have taken off your cap and have shown how low +you can bow, show us how the prairie-dogs run, out home on the farm." +The group was getting beyond the houses now.</p> + +<p>"But there aren't any prairie-dogs where I live in Illinois," returned +Young, smiling.</p> + +<p>"That doesn't matter," growled Ballard; "do it anyway."</p> + +<p>So William Young, thinking of how the people out home were in awe of him +because he had gone East to college, got down on all fours and ambled +along the dusty road.</p> + +<p>"Now you do it, you little Freshman with the big head."</p> + +<p>Barrows gave his version of a prairie-dog's method of progress, laughing +as if it were a good joke.</p> + +<p>"Now both do it at once," said Channing.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores laughed gleefully, especially at Young, he was so big and +awkward.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a name="ILL_003" id="ILL_003"></a> +<img src="images/ill_003.jpg" width="500" height="423" alt="HAZING." title="" /> +<span class="caption">HAZING.<br /><br /> +"Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile."</span> +</div> + +<p>"That's pretty good," said Channing, as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> he were the exhibitor of +trained animals. "Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile."</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed, Young included.</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh," said Channing.</p> + +<p>"Cork up your laughter," said Ballard.</p> + +<p>Then they were made to crow like roosters and bark like dogs, and give +other imitations, until they reached the tow-path of the canal. Here +they were made to strip.</p> + +<p>"Can you swim?" one of the fellows asked.</p> + +<p>Both said they could.</p> + +<p>"Then jump in and swim across. Be quick about it."</p> + +<p>The water was cool, but it did not hurt them.</p> + +<p>"Now swim back and get your clothes."</p> + +<p>While dressing they were made to sing "Home, Sweet Home"—"in order to +keep warm," Channing said.</p> + +<p>"Now cheer for the illustrious class above you. Are you +ready?—Hip—Hip!"</p> + +<p>The college cheer was given with the Sophomore class numerals on the +end.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think I heard your sweet voice, Deacon Young," said one of the +Sophs, a tall fellow with glasses. "Suppose you give us one all alone. +Now then, Hip—Hip!"</p> + +<p>Young kept silent.</p> + +<p>"See here, you cheer, Deacon. Do as we tell you." This from Ballard, who +bellowed.</p> + +<p>Young looked around at the Sophomores—there were twelve of them—and +then glanced at the canal; he did not want to go in there again; he was +shivering already.</p> + +<p>"Hip—Hip!" said Ballard. Young gave a feeble cheer.</p> + +<p>The man with the glasses said: "H'm, you'll have to do better than that. +Now then, a loud one."</p> + +<p>Young cleared his throat and gave a loud, full cheer.</p> + +<p>"That's the way to talk," they said, encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"It won't hurt you, you see," said one of them, rather kindly, in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>"You are improving, Deacon Young," said Channing, patronizingly. "We'll +make a man of you yet."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus began a new epoch in the life of William Young. During the next +week or so of his college course he was hazed perhaps more than anyone +in his class, although from that first time he no longer resisted or +tried to maintain his superiority.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly hazing, as Linton, the Junior, said, was a good thing for +his system, as it is for any young man, but Young certainly did not need +such severe doses nor so many of them.</p> + +<p>Some of the fellows said so the third time he was taken to the canal. +"The old Deacon is all right now," they said; "why d'you give it to him +so hard?"</p> + +<p>But Channing was one of these small men that love to get power over big +men; he loved to haze and he hated to have anyone call him little or +mouthy, and Young had called him both. The next night he and Ballard, +who, as will be seen later, had much of the bully in him, would bring +around a different crowd and Channing would take out his pipe, shake it +at Young and say to the others, "Now this old jay Deacon is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> innocent +and meek enough to look at, but he is atrociously fresh at bottom—isn't +he, Bally, you old horse?"</p> + +<p>Young said nothing and took his hazing cheerfully and patiently, hoping +they would soon get tired of it.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he said to himself, as he hurried back to his room to work +until past midnight, in order to make up for lost time. "I suppose I +must be very fresh, or they would not keep it up so long. I did not know +I was so fresh."</p> + +<p>But he told himself that if he were only well liked by his own +classmates as he had expected to be, he would not care what his enemies +thought of him. That he had not sprung into popularity, he decided, was +due to that painful occurrence at his first recitation. It made him +flush to think of it even now.</p> + +<p>It was on the morning after the rush and after the Sophomores had been +turned out of his room. He went in to the Livy recitation for which he +had prepared himself so thoroughly—he went over it four and a half +times, you may remember—and took his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> seat, feeling strong and +confident, and, "Mr. Young, please to translate," said the professor, +before the class was hardly settled in its seats.</p> + +<p>It was in a low voice. Young was in the back of the room. He was not +dreaming of being called upon first anyway, and he wondered why the +fellow next to him was nudging him with an elbow. Young turned and +looked at him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Get up," whispered the man.</p> + +<p>"What for?" whispered Young.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Mr. Young present?" said the professor in a tone loud and clear, +and Young fairly jumped out of his seat, exclaiming, "Yes, marm—yes, +sir, I mean."</p> + +<p>He added it quickly but it was too late. Everyone had heard and everyone +was laughing, and even the professor joined in, though he did not mean +it unkindly, and then they all laughed still more. The walls fairly +echoed with it. Even after the professor had rapped for order and the +laughter had quieted down, someone in the front row tittered and that +set them all off again. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> new class is always somewhat hysterical. Some +of those in the front rows turned and stared at him in their laughter.</p> + +<p>It was a natural mistake. This freshman had prepared for college at a +high school, and most of the High School teachers were women. Young +should have joined in the laughter, but he only stood there, scarlet and +serious-looking and wishing he could disappear forever.</p> + +<p>Finally the professor said, kindly, "Now then, Mr. Young."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Young was confused, and though he had been over the passage +until he had it nearly by heart, he now became all tangled up and +excited and finally took his seat dripping with perspiration and wishing +he had never come to college. Instead of being perfect his first college +recitation was a flat failure. But the professor did not count this +failure against him because he saw that the fellow was rattled and +because the next time he came in he made the best recitation of the day.</p> + +<p>But that was not the trouble. The fellows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> would not forget it and would +not let up on it. "Thank you, marm," they whispered as he arose to +recite, and "Thank you, marm," they shouted to him on the crowded +campus. The Sophomores took it up. It became a second nick-name.</p> + +<p>The worst of it was—in fact the reason of it all was—that he took this +as he did himself and everything else, with entirely too much +self-importance. Instead of laughing or answering back he looked sullen +and sedate when they said, "Thank you, marm," and naturally they said it +then all the more.</p> + +<p>It cut and hurt to have his own classmates—the men with whom he had +stood shoulder to shoulder in the rush and at the class meeting—treat +him thus. If they had known that he was taking it so seriously, they +would have stopped. But they did not know it. How should they? Most +people have to suffer before they learn to be sympathetic.</p> + +<p>So, altogether, with the Sophomores who hazed and the classmates who +guyed, Will Young decided that college life was not all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> it was cracked +up to be. But you may be sure he did not let this opinion get into the +letters he wrote home. Because he was discouraged was no reason for +making his mother discouraged too. But, oh, it would have helped a lot, +if he had only somebody to talk to about it all. He did not know how to +make friends with the others, and the others did not seem to care to +make friends, thank you, marm, with the sober-faced old Deacon.</p> + +<p>It was all very well for a fellow like Linton to say that something of +this sort was a good thing for a fellow like Young. But Linton was a +Junior, with friends that loved him; and Juniors forget. Besides, +sometimes we get too much of a good thing, and then it becomes a bad +thing. If it had kept on this way Young might have become meek and +backboneless, and such an extreme would be even worse than that of +self-importance.</p> + +<p>But it did not keep on. It all stopped one day quite suddenly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>WORK—PLAY—"PROCS"</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 34em;">"<span class="smcap">Princeton, N. J</span>., Sunday.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mother</span>: Yes, the Sophomores <i>have</i> hazed me a good +many times since I first wrote about it, but I do not mind +it much now. Honestly I do not. They mean it all in joke. +You must not worry. I ought not to have told you anything +about it. I am seldom homesick, and am very happy here at +college."</p></div> + +<p>And so he was. For each hour of discomfort there were many other hours +that were exceedingly comfortable and satisfactory, for he was working +with all his might at what he had always wanted to work—he was getting +a college education. And when all is said and done there is nothing like +hard work and a good digestion to make a fellow happy. That is if the +work is congenial and the food is good; and they were.</p> + +<p>His work was so congenial that his recitations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> sometimes made the +fellows in the front rows turn and look at him, the same fellows that +had turned and looked at him during that first frightful recitation; but +their faces wore different expressions now. He was getting a reputation +for being one of the "keeners" of his division.</p> + +<p>And as for his food, it was good—and so were the table-mates, for now +that the shyness was rubbing off he was beginning to enjoy meeting and +sitting down at the table with those dozen classmates more than any part +of the day, if only that long, thin fellow who was studying for the +ministry would not say, solemnly, after Young had handed the bread, +"Thank you, marm." However, he did not mind even that quite so much as +at first, because he was learning how to take good-natured chaff now, +and, more than that, to answer it. And that is something one is likely +to be taught at college if he learns nothing else.</p> + +<p>The letter continued:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A Junior manages, or runs, our club; that is, he gathered +in us twelve Freshmen during the first day or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> two of the +term, and brought us to Mrs. Brown's table. I told you how +several club managers asked me to join their clubs the first +day? Most of them were too expensive, though. This boarding +system is a good bargain for the ladies who supply the +tables, for they cannot collect the students themselves, and +a good bargain for the managers, for they get their board +free, and so save the largest item of expense at college."</p></div> + +<p>Young was finding out that there were, as the minister had told him, a +great many fellows at college who had to consider items of expense +seriously, but he was surprised to find it so hard to tell which ones +did and which did not.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Everybody talks as if he were 'dead broke' all the time, +and you would think all were, to look at them. It is not the +thing to dress well here. A student is made fun of if he +tries it. I wear the black cut-away coat only on Sundays, as +I used to, instead of every day, as you thought I should +have to do. I did not have to buy a new hat. I bought a +flannel cap instead, such as all the fellows wear."</p></div> + +<p>At first Young was rather shocked at the slouchy way these college men +dressed, and he made up his mind that he would not wear corduroy +trousers when he became an upper-classman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> But there were not only many +long months, but a very serious problem to go through with, before he +became an upper-classman, or even a Sophomore. However, he had money +enough in the bank to scrape along for awhile; the term was only just +begun, and things might turn up before it ended, and meanwhile he did +not want to think about that, because it always reminded him of his +father's attitude in the matter. "Huh! We'll see how long you stay there +with those dudes."</p> + +<p>A fellow does not like to feel that he is doing something his father +does not approve of, no matter how old or independent he is. Mr. Young +had not once written a line to Will at college, and through Mrs. Young +had only sent the most formal messages. The Freshman concluded that his +father hated him. There came a time when he found how mistaken he was.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One day, about a week after college opened—though it seemed to Young +more like seven weeks than seven days, because he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> had seen and felt so +many new things and, though he was not aware of it perhaps, because he +had developed so much—at any rate, one afternoon just one week from the +time he had first met Channing and his crew, Young heard about another +new thing. This, too, resulted in developing him a good deal.</p> + +<p>It was a Wednesday afternoon, and he was on the way across the +quadrangle after "English," no longer feeling lost or out of place on +the campus, for he knew by this time nearly all its nooks and crannies +and the names of most of the buildings. "There are 225 acres in the +grounds," he had written home to Charlie in another cheerful sounding +letter, "and we have over thirty buildings." And he told with pride +something of the Revolutionary history of Nassau Hall, "the venerable +brown building they called 'Old North,' once the largest building in +this hemisphere and for a time the most important." But that was not the +reason he felt so proud just now. It was because he was walking beside +little "Lucky" Lee.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 353px;"><a name="ILL_004" id="ILL_004"></a> +<img src="images/ill_004.jpg" width="353" height="500" alt="THE HERO OF THE BELL-CLAPPER." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE HERO OF THE BELL-CLAPPER.<br /><br /> +Lee was one of the most prominent and popular men in the class.</span> +</div> + +<p>Lee was the class secretary and treasurer, and one of the most prominent +and most popular men in the class. He had sprung into considerable class +prominence when he sprang upon Young's shoulders that night in the rush. +But the next night he climbed still higher and into greater fame by +scaling the belfry of Old North at dead of night, where, with the aid of +Stevens, his room-mate, he carried off the bell-clapper, "and that was a +great thing, I tell you," Young wrote home.</p> + +<p>"Of course, no Freshman class would be respected," Linton, the Junior, +had explained the next time he and Nolan had come to "talk hall" with +Will—who explained it to Charlie—"they'd be disgraced if they didn't +steal the bell-clapper. The college authorities expect it to be done. +They have a barrelful of new ones down in the cellar. When the rope is +pulled and they find the bell doesn't ring, they simply fork out a new +clapper and climb up and fasten it on, and then start in to ringing as +though nothing unusual had happened."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>None the less it was a daring deed, and Lee and Stevens had come within +a small margin of getting caught by stealthy Matt Goldie, the chief +proctor. But they weren't, and the big heavy clapper was now in the city +of Trenton, being melted down into many diminutive souvenir clappers (to +be worn as watch-charms by the whole class) at this very moment, while +Lee was walking across the campus and Young beside him was hoping that +the fellows who called him "Thank you, marm!" could see him now.</p> + +<p>Just then "Minerva" Powelton, the recently chosen captain of the class +baseball team, joined Lee and Young, or rather he joined Lee; he paid +little attention to Young. He had been brought up to keep away from boys +whose family he knew nothing of, and he considered Young beneath him in +every way. He got over it in time.</p> + +<p>"Say, Lucky," he said in a low tone, putting his arm fawningly around +little Lee, "the Sophs will be getting out the procs pretty soon. We'd +better watch out."</p> + +<p>"Naw," said Lucky, with the conviction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> of superior knowledge. "Not till +after Saturday's game, at the earliest. Why, in my brother's Freshman +year they did not do it till after cane-spree."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'd better keep our eyes peeled, all the same," said Captain +Powelton.</p> + +<p>Young looked sober and said nothing. To tell the truth, he did not know +what they were talking about. Was it that the Sophs were going to turn +the college proctors against them in some cowardly way? But what +Saturday's baseball game between the two classes had to do with it he +knew no more than what a cane-spree might be; and he walked home +wondering.</p> + +<p>That evening at the club one of the fellows—who, perhaps, had also +overheard a conversation—said, in a pause, "I understand the Sophs will +bring out the procs pretty soon."</p> + +<p>Young was not so shy before his own crowd. "No, they won't," said he. +"Not until after Saturday's baseball game."</p> + +<p>"Why not, Young?" he was asked.</p> + +<p>"What are the procs, anyway?" inquired<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> Barrows, at the foot of the +table, who had been Young's champion on the first trip to the canal. He +was a small, ingenuous fellow with a big head, and had taken a prize for +passing the best entrance examinations from his State.</p> + +<p>Young was about to laugh and own up that he did not know, when the +Junior who ran the club cleared his throat and explained. He was fond of +instructing these Freshmen. He had been very green himself two years +before, and he knew how it felt. He also knew how impressive an +upper-classman seems to the entering student.</p> + +<p>"The two lower classes," he said, with a great deal of Junior dignity, +"always get out proclamations on each other. It is one of the customs. +The Sophs generally bring theirs out first; they are like big bill +posters."</p> + +<p>"What's on them?" asked Barrows.</p> + +<p>"On them is printed a lot of nonsense in green type. They cast +aspersions on you, call you fresh and green and heap ignominy on your +prominent men and deride your eccentric characters."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, where do they put them?" asked the one who brought up the +subject.</p> + +<p>"All over the State."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"They paste them all over this town and its environs, on the blank walls +and the sidewalks, and on every barn in the county, on wagons, on +telegraph-poles, on freight-cars—not only that, but they go off to +Trenton and New Brunswick and paste them all over the town and on +freight-trains about to pull out."</p> + +<p>"Well! what do we do all this time?" asked Young. Everyone was listening +now.</p> + +<p>"Pull them down," said the Junior, simply, "and soon afterward you get +out a proc saying sarcastic things about <i>them</i>, which they pull down, +feeling very indignant, and then they haze you worse than ever. Please +hand me the butter."</p> + +<p>"But I still don't see," said Barrows, the small fellow with the big +head, "what Saturday's baseball game has to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"They wait until after that," replied the Junior, smiling, "in order to +write verses on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> the score and jeer you on being so badly beaten."</p> + +<p>"Maybe we won't be beaten," said Barrows.</p> + +<p>"I sincerely hope you won't," said the Junior, benignantly.</p> + +<p>The series of inter-class baseball games lasting a week had begun as +usual on the Monday previous. They are played so early in the term +because football soon absorbs all athletic interest of the fall.</p> + +<p>The Freshman class, which was large and had had many aspirants to +athletic honors, had barely had time to pick out its nine, who were, so +said the Junior class baseball captain who was coaching the players, +unusually good material, but quite lacking in team play. This was only +natural, as only three of them had ever seen each other a week before.</p> + +<p>However, they made a very good showing against the Juniors on Tuesday, +and by Thursday they had improved so much that they beat the lazy +Seniors. To tell the truth the latter had not put a very ambitious team +in the field, and played horse throughout the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> game. But this encouraged +the Freshmen wonderfully, and confidence was just what they needed. +After the practice on Friday afternoon the Junior coach said, "I think +you fellows will win to-morrow—<i>if</i> you don't get rattled," he added, +shaking his head and thinking of his own Freshman year.</p> + +<p>The Sophomore-Freshman game is the concluding match of the week, and is +always the special event of the series, owing to the intense rivalry +between the two lower classes. It is advertised in the bill-posters in +letters twice as large as the other games, and many alumni gather from +New York and Philadelphia to witness it, which makes the two lower +classes feel quite important.</p> + +<p>Great was the excitement in the Freshman class, and great was the hope +of victory. The Sophomores, though they did not show it, were also +excited, but they were blatantly confident of winning. It would be a +terrible disgrace if they lost to the Freshmen.</p> + +<p>Soon after the mid-day meal on Saturday the Freshman class marched down +to University Field in a body, and sat there cheering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> for itself and +its team all the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Just before the game began the Sophomores, in a solid mass of orange and +black, making a deafening lot of noise with college songs on kazoos, led +by a big brass band, entered the field with banners waving, took +possession of a solid section of the bleachers, derided the Freshmen, +drowned out their cheers, guyed their batters, rattled their pitcher, +and won the game by a score of 18 to 7. That night the country for miles +round was scoured by faithful Freshmen. Not a proclamation was found.</p> + +<p>The next night still a larger number of Freshmen lost half of their +eight hours' sleep in the cause, and in vain.</p> + +<p>The next afternoon Lucky Lee whispered to Young, coming out of +mathematics: "The Sophomores get out their procs to-night, sure; they +are being printed in Trenton—I have a detective down there who found +out all about it. I want you to come up to my room in University Hall +this evening after you have finished your 'poling'—I mean studying.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +Wear your old clothes. You'll come, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Young had not been engaged in the previous nightly searches, and he had +not intended to join in this one. But it was Lee. "I'll come," said +Young—"soon's I get through 'poling,'" he added, for he wanted young +Lee to know that he too understood college slang, even though he was a +quiet Freshman. There was something fascinating to Young about that +bright-faced little fellow. Everybody liked him.</p> + +<p>The territory to be covered and the men to cover it had been divided up +beforehand among a number of leaders, and when Lee had said, in talking +it over in Powelton's room, "I'm going to get that man Young, he's a +big, strong fellow," Powelton had said, "What, that big, awkward poler +from the backwoods?—the man everybody guys? Bah! he hasn't any more +class spirit than my pipe."</p> + +<p>Everyone at college is called a student, but a poler is one who studies +to excess.</p> + +<p>"Poler or no poler," answered Lee, "he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> got muscle all right, and he +stood by me in the rush in great shape!"</p> + +<p>Promptly at ten o'clock Young slammed shut his Homer and the Greek +lexicon and started for University Hall, a big rambling place full of +noisy, whistling students that scrape their feet along the wide +carpetless corridors. He had done a good evening's work for himself; now +he was going to work for Lee and for the class.</p> + +<p>Some Sophomores at the foot of the third flight of stairs said, "Quack! +quack! Freshmen!" as Young went by, but he did not mind that, and they +did not dare do more because Sam, the night watchman, was downstairs in +the main hall.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't that Deacon Young?" said a man joining the group. "What did you +let him go by for?"</p> + +<p>It was Channing, of course, and he went hurrying upstairs after Young, +to show off how bold he was.</p> + +<p>"Channing certainly has nerve," said one of them.</p> + +<p>By the time Channing caught up, Young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> had turned down the narrow +corridor which led to Lee's room.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to come back," said Channing, in a matter-of-fact way, +which made it all the more irritating. "Here! I said, 'come back.'"</p> + +<p>Young might have done it ordinarily, but he had promised Lee to come to +his room at ten o'clock and he was accustomed to keep his word; he did +not even look around.</p> + +<p>Channing, catching up with him, laid a hand on his arm, and said, +sneeringly, "Come back, or it'll be worse for you," and called Young a +name that he should have known better than to call anyone unless willing +to fight in consequence.</p> + +<p>For answer Young turned promptly about, grabbed the little Sophomore by +the shoulders, then taking both wrists in one of his strong hands and +shaking the other fist in his face, said, "You little reptile, you're +too small for me to hurt, but I'll give you what I wanted to give you +since I first laid eyes on you."</p> + +<p>With that he quietly picked up the small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Sophomore, turned him over his +left knee and gave him a good sound spanking with his big right hand.</p> + +<p>"There," he said, holding Channing upon his knee a moment. "That's what +I think of you. Now run and tell everybody." And he gave him a gentle +push which was not as gentle as he meant it to be.</p> + +<p>Channing got up from the floor hastily, looked about, saw that no one +was near, and then sneaked around the corner in a hurry toward the +stairs. He hadn't said another word. As he drew near his friends he +slackened up and began to whistle carelessly. "Couldn't find him," he +said, "the old cow must have heard me coming, and scooted into some +room." Inwardly he was thanking his stars he had not been seen.</p> + +<p>But he had been seen. The door of one of the rooms along the hall had +been ajar; two upper-classmen within had just put out their lights to go +to bed, the whole scene had been enjoyed, and before Channing was many +days older the whole college was to know the story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Young had gone on to Lee's room, where he said nothing about +what had happened. The room was full of Freshmen and when the door +opened they were talking at a great rate about football in loud voices; +but as soon as they saw it was not a Sophomore they began to talk in low +tones about the procs again.</p> + +<p>Lee said, "I don't know whether you know all these fellows," and began +to introduce him in an informal way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know Young," said one of them. It was the football man who +had been next to him in the rush. Others said, "I know your face—how +are you, Young?" Some only nodded and then seemed to ignore him.</p> + +<p>He felt a little constraint at first; some of these were prominent +members of the class, and he felt that they had a poor opinion of him, +but presently they all fell to talking about their plans so +earnestly—and included Young in their glances occasionally—that soon +he too began to get excited like the rest of them. He felt the thrill of +a conspirator.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>But they did not talk much longer, for Lee said: "Young and I are going +to bed. You fellows had better sneak off and get some sleep too." He had +already begun to undress. "You are to sleep here, Young," he added; "my +room-mate has gone to Trenton to start out early from there."</p> + +<p>The others were leaving—not all at once, for that would excite +suspicion if any Sophomores might be passing by. They left in ones and +twos.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Lucky, we'll see you later, good-night." Some of them +remembered to say good-night to Young, too. "Good-night, old man," said +one of them, a jolly fat fellow.</p> + +<p>Young did not sleep very much, but Lucky was quite worn out and dropped +off immediately, and then sprang half out of bed when the muffled alarm +clock went off under his pillow. It was four o'clock. They were to meet +the others at a spot on the Theological Seminary grounds at 4.30. From +there they were to work their way down toward Trenton on the old +stagecoach<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> highway and meet Stevens (Lee's room-mate) and the others +coming up.</p> + +<p>It did not take long to slip out of the room and into the silent +corridor. The lights were all out. It was dead dark.</p> + +<p>"Take hold of my arm," said Lee, "I know these corridors as well as our +own house at home."</p> + +<p>Their footsteps seemed to echo and re-echo as they went down the three +flights of stairs.</p> + +<p>The big clock in the hall ticking loudly showed thirteen minutes after +four. "We have plenty of time," whispered Young, as Lee opened the front +door.</p> + +<p>The outside air was cold and damp; Young shivered as it struck his face. +He was glad he had put on his blue flannel shirt, the one he used to +plough corn in. It was black outside except for a symptom of dawn in the +East, which made the darkness even more ghastly. Someone was walking +somewhere. They could hear the footsteps on the pavement.</p> + +<p>They reached the corner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Young.</p> + +<p>"Where?" exclaimed Lee, in a whisper. He was one of the pluckiest men in +the class, yet he jumped back a little.</p> + +<p>"There," said Young, "on that tree-box. It's a proc."</p> + +<p>"By George, you're right—the sneaks! They must have begun early."</p> + +<p>It was too dark to make out anything but the first three lines in big +letters:</p> + +<h4>"ATTENTION!</h4> + +<h4>YE FOUL AND FOOLISH FREAKS</h4> + +<h4>OF FRESHMEN!"</h4> + +<p>"It hasn't been up long," said Young. "The paste is still wet." He began +to tear it down.</p> + +<p>"They must be near here," whispered Lee. "We'd better first go and +meet——"</p> + +<p>"Sist! who's that?" said a low voice in the darkness.</p> + +<p>The two Freshmen stood motionless.</p> + +<p>The voice now whispered, "Ninety-blank this way." It sounded friendly, +but the thing for Young and Lee to do was not to wait<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> to see whether it +was friend or foe but turn, and run in opposite directions and then +bring up afterward at their appointed meeting-place where the others +were. That indeed was Lee's impulse, but, "Wait, it's one of our +fellows," said Young, innocently, and just then several figures darted +in at them and before Young or Lee could do anything more they were +surrounded on all sides, seized by the arms and held tight.</p> + +<p>"No use scrapping, fellows," said one of them in Young's ear, +triumphantly. "We've got you, we've got you."</p> + +<p>Just then the first figure walked close up to Young, turned the slide of +a detective's dark-lantern, and remarked, calmly, as the dazzling light +shone on Young's blinking eyes: "Yes, this is the old Deacon; well, +well, that's good! that's good!"</p> + +<p>It wasn't necessary to see the face. Young recognized the disagreeable, +sneering voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST HAZING OF "THE MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES"</h3> + +<p>It was all Young's fault that his little friend Lee was, like himself, +in the embarrassing embrace of these Sophomores, and he knew it; and +that worried him more than anything they might do to himself. This was a +fine way to repay Lee for his kindness!</p> + +<p>Channing was still sticking the lantern up close to Young's blinking +eyes, and saying, mockingly, "Well, well, you poor old fool of a Deacon! +you poor old pathetic fool."</p> + +<p>If Young could only jerk himself free he thought he could snatch Lee +away from the two Sophomores holding him and then in the darkness they +could surely escape. There was everything to gain and nothing to lose in +the attempt.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Channing, "let's see who the other foolish Freshman is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then through Young's mind there darted the thought: "Now's the time! +Their attention is diverted." The dazzling light had been taken off his +eyes. At the same instant, and as quick as the flash of the lantern, he +neatly whisked his arms out of the hands that held them, sprang +backward, throwing, as he did so, the two startled Sophomores forward by +the shoulders, and wheeled around toward Lee.</p> + +<p>Now little Lee, you may be sure, was watching for a chance to make a +dash for liberty. Hearing the scuffle of feet in front of him he tried a +similar trick. But his captors also had heard the scuffle; instinctively +they tightened their grasps. Lee shook off but one of them, whirled +around, and started off; the smaller of the two Sophomores was hanging +like a bull-dog to his left arm.</p> + +<p>Young, half-blinded in the change to darkness from dazzling light, +bumped into Lucky, hurriedly grabbed him by the free hand and away they +dashed. It was not quite two seconds from when Young made his first jump +to the time he was going down Nassau<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> Street and making good speed +considering that he was pulling Lee by the left hand, who in turn +dragged unwillingly with the other hand the Sophomore whose knees were +scraping the flagstones.</p> + +<p>Of course, by this time the other Sophomores were after them—were now +only a few yards behind and were gaining at every stride.</p> + +<p>For about forty yards Young ran as he never ran before. The only hope +was that the clinging Sophomore would get tired of sweeping Princeton +pavements with his knees; a moment more and he would surely drop. "Stick +to him," the other Sophomores were shouting in the dark. Two of the +pursuers were almost up to them. Lee gave a furious wrench. It was a +little too furious. He tripped and fell. Young slackened up and tried to +pull Lee to his feet, but Lee purposely loosed his hand and cried, "I'm +a goner, run!" At that instant two Sophomores dropped on him as they +would on a rolling football and cut off his wind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Young did not run—he turned around to try and free his friend—a +third Sophomore running at full speed tackled him furiously, as football +players tackle. They both tripped over the bodies on the ground. Lee +felt two more men come tumbling down in a tangle upon those already on +him.</p> + +<p>"We got 'em both, fellows," screamed one of the Sophomores in the +darkness to the others behind.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt, Lee?" asked a voice near the back of his neck.</p> + +<p>"How'd you—get—in this?" Lee panted. "Thought you were—block 'way +by—this time."</p> + +<p>Young was panting, too, so he only said, "No—still here." He had got +Lee into this mess and he meant to stick by him.</p> + +<p>The Sophomores, keeping tight hold of Lee and tighter hold of Young, +slowly arose, allowing their recaptured prisoners to stand up.</p> + +<p>"I hope you're not hurt, Lee?" asked one of them in a somewhat +sympathetic voice. He still kept tight hold of the Freshman, however.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nope, I reckon not," said Lee, who hadn't been playing football since +the age of twelve for nothing.</p> + +<p>They all leaned against the fence and panted for a moment</p> + +<p>Young made out nearly a dozen Sophomores in the half-dark.</p> + +<p>Lee stopped panting and smiled. "Well, what are you going to do with +us?" he asked, grimly.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Freshman, that's our business," said one of them. It was the +same man that had asked Lee if he was hurt a moment before.</p> + +<p>"So, Deacon," said Channing, "you <i>wouldn't</i> come back when we told you +to, you old hay-seed Deacon!"</p> + +<p>Young knew what he referred to, but only looked sober and said nothing, +as usual.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," went on Channing, "so you two proc.-hunters thought you'd +get away, didn't you? Too bad, too bad; teaches Freshmen a good lesson: +little boys must not be out at night. It's not nice."</p> + +<p>"Well, Channing, where shall we put these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> two foolish virgins?" asked a +gruff voice. The dawn was coming in and Young and Lee saw that it was +that big Ballard.</p> + +<p>Now, it was customary on occasions of this sort to take all prisoners to +some room, generally right there in University Hall, and lock them up +for the rest of the night, and that's what the Sophomores would have +done in this case but for Channing. "Put them!" replied Channing, +indignantly, "we sha'n't put them anywhere until we have dealt out due +chastisement for their rash impudence in trying to escape from their +lawful lords and masters. Am I not right? They should make recompense +for the trouble they have given us." It was Channing's usual vein.</p> + +<p>"Aw, see here, Chan," said one of the others, "we've got a lot of work +still to do and it's getting light already. We can't stop to do any +hazing. Let's lock them up in George Black's room."</p> + +<p>But Channing was not going to let this opportunity slip by for getting +square for what Young had done only a few hours previous.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> He did not +know that there had been witnesses to the spanking—as yet. "Let the +prisoners follow," he said, and he led the way back to the corner where +the two parties had met.</p> + +<p>Near by, on the ground beside the iron fence, stood a bucket of paste, a +big brush, and a roll of proclamations. Young and Lee had not seen them +before.</p> + +<p>"Here are paste and proclamations," said Channing, "and here are strong +hands and willing. What is to hinder the strong hands being set to work? +Arise, Freshmen, gird up your loins and paste procs, for the day soon +cometh when no man can paste."</p> + +<p>"Right," said the others, smiling. "Kill two birds with one stone."</p> + +<p>Little Lee fairly gasped to himself: "Going to make us paste +procs—procs against our own class!"</p> + +<p>Ballard, who had apparently just got the idea through his head, began to +laugh, and said, "That's a good scheme, Chan, haw, haw, haw!"</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh so loud," said Channing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> "Come on, Freshmen, that blank +wall across the street is a good place to begin."</p> + +<p>They were led across the street to the corner grocery store. A tight +hold was kept on Young and Lee this time.</p> + +<p>"Now, this is the way it is done." Channing quickly and rather daintily +pasted up a proclamation.</p> + +<p>By this time it was light enough for the letters to show green, and the +Freshmen read the thing.</p> + +<p>Up near the top Lee, the class secretary, was called "a puppy drum +major" and "Mamma's blue-eyed baby boy, the little toy secretary." In +the portion in finer type, beneath the slurs on the baseball team and +the arrogant prohibitions against the wearing of the college colors and +silk-hats and the smoking of pipes and carrying of canes, Young spied +his own name.</p> + +<p>"Next in the line of freaks," it said, "will amble that poor, meek butt +of all classes, Deacon Young, the overgrown baby of Squeedunk, who +always does everything you tell him to, and says 'Thank you, marm!'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That means me," thought Young, scowling, as he remembered how important +he had always been considered by everyone out at home. "What would they +think of me now, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Channing had finished his work.</p> + +<p>"Now then," he said, and unfolded another proc and advanced toward the +Freshmen. "Don't all speak at once, children; will Little Willie Young +show us how they handle the brush when they whitewash the fences on the +farm?"</p> + +<p>"Naw, let the class secretary do it first," interrupted Ballard, in his +rough voice.</p> + +<p>Though the crowd had often hazed Lee they had always found him such a +bright, good-natured little chap that Ballard was never allowed to +humble him as much as since the rush he had always wanted to. Here was a +fine chance. Young could wait; it was not much fun to haze Young, +anyway, he was so meek.</p> + +<p>"Get to work there now, Secretary," Ballard shouted in his loud voice. +He did not have brains enough, Young thought, to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> sarcastic, but he +had plenty of lungs. "Close in around them, fellows."</p> + +<p>Of course the Freshmen required the use of their hands if they were to +paste procs, so the two were shoved in toward the wall and the dozen +Sophomores with locked arms formed a semi-circle about them. It would be +out of the question for the two to try and escape now.</p> + +<p>Young and Lee were standing by the paste-bucket with their backs to the +Sophomores, who were about twelve feet away from them.</p> + +<p>"Come, get to work there, little boys," said Channing. "You and Young +have nearly fifty more to paste before breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Hurry up there," Ballard echoed, shouting in a tone to wake the +neighborhood.</p> + +<p>Just then a lazy voice was heard. "Heads out! Sophomores are making +Freshmen paste procs! heads out—, everybody look!" It was a Senior +leaning from an upstairs window of University Hall. He was in his +pajamas.</p> + +<p>Meantime, Ballard, who loved to show his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> power, had stepped arrogantly +into the ring saying, "Do you hear what I say, you little fool! Pick up +that brush and get to work."</p> + +<p>"Heads out, everybody, heads out! Lots of fun," cried the sleepy-looking +Senior.</p> + +<p>Windows began to open and frowsy heads and yawning faces to stick out +from all over the University Place side of the big building.</p> + +<p>Lee thought, with true loyal horror, of how, if he should do as Ballard +said, the Sophomores would taunt him forever afterward. He fancied how +his own classmates would feel about it when they heard that their +secretary had aided in posting those scurrilous proclamations. But what +was there to do? He had only one classmate with him and there were a +dozen Sophomores about him—no, eleven, for the twelfth was now standing +close beside him, shaking a big fist in his face and saying, "See here, +you little fool, are you going to do what I tell you or not?"</p> + +<p>Little Lee calmly looked up into Ballard's face and said, "No, and you +can't make me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll see whether I can make you or not," returned Ballard, and with +that he grabbed the little fellow by the coat-collar and shaking him +back and forth roared, "Now, you little fool, you paste that proc or +I'll paste you on the jaw with this fist." Possibly he really meant to +do it, but, at any rate, he did not, for just then Young cried: "No, you +won't, Ballard! No, you won't! Don't you shake him that way; don't you +lay hands on him; don't you touch him." The voice was very high and +earnest.</p> + +<p>"Yea-a. Good enough for you, big Freshman." The upper-classmen were +becoming interested. By this time in the windows across the street were +about twenty lookers-on. Ballard knew that, and he was a Sophomore. +Young was a Freshman. He laughed scornfully. "What have you got to do +with it, you big, overgrown baby?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show you what I've got to do with, you big bully." Young's voice +trembled. "Let go that boy," and much to everyone's astonishment the +Freshman took hold of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> Sophomore very much as Ballard had hold of +Lee.</p> + +<p>At this, Ballard, in sheer astonishment that any Freshman should have +the audacity to touch him, Ballard, the centre rush of the Sophomore +team, dropped Lee, wrenched away from Young and whirled around toward +him with fist drawn up in fighting position, dancing up and down, and +saying, "You impudent pup of a Freshman, you impudent pup!"</p> + +<p>["Yea-a! big scrap!" shouted those upstairs—"Aw! Freshman's afraid."]</p> + +<p>Now, Young considered himself the better man, but all he wanted was to +make Ballard let go of Lee, and he had succeeded.</p> + +<p>["Aw! Freshman's bluffed out—too bad!"]</p> + +<p>Ballard had turned once more toward Lee. "Get to work," he bawled.</p> + +<p>Lee stood still.</p> + +<p>Ballard drew back as if to demolish the little fellow. "Now," he +began—but just then in ran Young. His unclenched hands were stuck out +awkwardly in front of him;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> it made the upper-classmen in the windows +shout with laughter; some of the Sophomores in the ring giggled +excitedly. Young did not hear it. He guarded off one blow, was struck on +the chest by the second, dodged the third—and as he ducked, he plunged +in and grappled.</p> + +<p>They clinched and began to wrench and twist and scuffle about the ring; +the rest of the Sophomores falling back to keep out of the way whenever +the two big fellows came over too near the edge.</p> + +<p>Now, Young was no boxer, but he had, like many another country boy, +wrestled ever since he first put on trousers, and he had not forgotten +all his tricks. He made a feint as if to try a hip throw, then slipped +his arms down on Ballard, twisted his feet around, threw his chin and +his weight forward, and down they both came, Young on top, while the +voices up in University Hall yelled approvingly: "The Freshman is doing +him! the Freshman is doing him!" This made Ballard beside himself with +rage.</p> + +<p>But Young having proved himself the better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> man, released Ballard +quickly, jumped up, stepped across to Lee, and in a sober manner was +saying, "Now, Lee, I think——" when a staggering blow from Ballard's +fist on the half-turned face nearly upset Young, who was entirely +unprepared for this unexpected attack; he might have fallen but for Lee.</p> + +<p>Up to this point Young, though very much in earnest, had been quite cool +and deliberate. But now, with the cowardly blow stinging on his face, he +became infuriated. He turned and charged at Ballard like one of the +bulls on his father's farm, with his head down and regardless of +consequences. His eyes were wide open and teeth set. His fury gave him +double strength.</p> + +<p>Paying no more attention to Ballard's blows than to so many raindrops, +he dived down and grasped him around the middle, lifted him up, got him +on the right hip, and whirled him over and down upon the ground between +the sidewalk and the curbstone, a full, clean throw.</p> + +<p>The men up in the windows were now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> really excited, "Good enough, +Freshman! good enough! Served him right! Do it again!"</p> + +<p>That was just what Young, with teeth set and nostrils distended, was +proceeding to do, though not because they told him to, for he was now +oblivious to everything but showing Ballard that there was a limit to +hazing and to Freshman meekness!</p> + +<p>Up went Ballard's legs in the air once more with the enraged Freshman's +long, strong arms locked tightly about him. And again he came down hard +upon the ground. And he had barely got to his feet when in rushed the +Freshman again with his head down, and for the third time Ballard was +thrown flat and fair. This time it was in the gutter, and it was lucky +for Ballard that it was full of leaves, for Young fell heavily on top of +him.</p> + +<p>Up to this point Ballard's classmates had been busy keeping out of the +way of his whirling heels. Now they began to realize that they were +becoming disgraced; something must be done. Channing was calling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +excitedly, "Get in there, somebody; don't let a Freshman do that, +fellows," while he himself kept well out of the way.</p> + +<p>Perhaps they did not admire Ballard for what he had done, but he was +their classmate. One of the bigger fellows dashed in and got Young by +the legs and began to pull. Quick as a flash little Lee ran in and +immediately tripped him up. No one had been watching Lee. Another Soph. +slipped in and pulled Lee off. A couple of them held him. Then the +others began grabbing Young's arms and legs. He held on like a bull-dog. +One man was sitting on his head. Two were on his body. Ballard was +wriggling and swearing. He got one arm over Young's neck.</p> + +<p>"Here, here, give the Freshman a show; give him fair play!" cried some +authoritative voices. It was some Juniors and Seniors hurrying out from +University Hall—some half-dressed and some not dressed at all.</p> + +<p>They ran across the street and brushed Sophomores right and left, +saying, "Get off there—get off there, I tell you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some Sophomores jumped up; others were pulled off.</p> + +<p>"Ballard has hurt his ankle! Ballard has hurt his ankle—let him up." It +was Channing's shrill voice.</p> + +<p>"Well, if he's hurt let him up," said the Juniors. The Freshman was +still on top.</p> + +<p>"Get off, Freshman, you did him; Ballard has hurt his ankle."</p> + +<p>Young jumped up quickly. "Is he hurt?" he asked, panting, and looking +around; he was amazed to see so many people about him. He had an ugly +bruise under his left eye, where Ballard had hit him; he didn't feel it +now.</p> + +<p>Ballard had hastily jumped up. He did not look at Young; he did not say +a word. He was panting hard; he leaned on Channing's arm and limped +quickly and quietly away. The other Sophomores followed behind; none of +them looked back. There was a dramatic silence.</p> + +<p>"He's not much hurt," said a Junior who knew Ballard of old, and he was +right, for before the Sophomores quite reached the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> corner Ballard had +stopped limping and was walking as well as anybody. "Say, Channing," +another upper-classman called after them, "how about that spanking?" and +before the small Sophomore was out of earshot he had the pleasure of +hearing the upper-classman begin a narration which was received with +squeals and shouts of laughter.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 384px;"><a name="ILL_005" id="ILL_005"></a> +<img src="images/ill_005.jpg" width="384" height="500" alt="MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES!" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES!<br /><br /> +Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day the whole college was talking about it.</span> +</div> + +<p>Meanwhile Young, in the centre of another ring, was sitting on the +curbstone panting like a good fellow. Lee was bending over him mopping +his face with his own handkerchief and patting him on the back and +laughing excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt, old man?" asked one of the Juniors.</p> + +<p>Young shook his head.</p> + +<p>"What's his name?" asked one of the others.</p> + +<p>"Young's his name," answered little Lee, proudly, like the exhibitor of +something rare.</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a good one," said one of the new arrivals. Others were +hurrying down the steps of University Hall and across the street every +moment; they all asked questions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> Several of the first arrivals were +telling the new arrivals all about it, with gestures.</p> + +<p>"Tried to make the big fellow paste procs," one man was saying, while +another was crying: "But you ought to have seen that beautiful spanking +last night! Oh, dear! I'll never forget Channing's look when...."</p> + +<p>The big roll of proclamations, by the way, which had been lying on the +ground, had disappeared. Some of the new arrivals were Freshmen, and +Lee, who had hidden it under his coat, gave it to them to carry away. +First they tore down all the procs that were in sight. A Junior picking +up a piece was reading aloud, "the meek butt of all classes."</p> + +<p>"This is 'the meek butt of all classes,'" said Lee, laughing.</p> + +<p>Young got up from the curbstone.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Lucky," he said, "we'll have to hurry to meet those other +fellows on the way from Trenton."</p> + +<p>Lee tried to help him up; Young would not allow it. But as they started +off Lee insisted on putting his arm about him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What! that big, awkward-looking chap?" Young heard a new arrival ask +one of the others. Then just as they reached the corner Lee and Young +suddenly heard:</p> + +<p>"Ray, ray, ray! Tiger, siss, boom, ah! 'Meek butt of all classes!'" It +was the Juniors giving a cheer for him in the early dawn.</p> + +<p>Lee turned around and waved his hand at them. Young blushed, but did not +turn his head. Lee reached up and lifted Young's hat to them, which made +the others laugh. It made Young laugh a little, too. Then they turned +the corner and were out of the crowd.</p> + +<p>Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day the whole +college was talking about it: "Big green Freshman ... thought he didn't +dare say his soul was his own.... That irrepressible little Channing, +first ... worm turned ... yes, on the third floor of University—Bob +Ellis saw the whole thing himself ... caught big Freshman this morning +with Lee—yes, that nice little fellow.... Sophs undertook<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> to make him +paste procs—no, Lee first.... Little one was game.... Big Bally—yes, +went at Lee.... Big Freshman turned on Bally—Bally punched him—um, +right up here, under eye, a nasty one—then big, meek Freshman.... Oh, +my! lovely!——"</p> + +<p>Only in the telling it became twenty or thirty Sophomores, and it was +over a fence that Ballard was thrown.</p> + +<p>Deacon Young was a hero now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>HOW IT FEELS TO BE A HERO</h3> + +<p>Several weeks had passed since Deacon Young had become a class hero, and +a great many things had happened.</p> + +<p>The Freshmen had published and posted their own proclamations since then +(with a good crack on a man named Ballard), and the Sophomores had torn +them down, long ago. The Ninety-blank class football team had been +started, and Young was trying for the position of right guard—and +finding football not so much a matter of mere muscle as it looked; the +class glee club had been organized; a great many friendships had begun; +nearly everybody had joined Whig or Clio Hall (whether they cared to +debate or not); and they were all becoming thoroughly accustomed to +being at college and had begun to love it. But Freshman Young was not +yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> accustomed to having people treat him with so much consideration, +and he did not know quite what to make of it.</p> + +<p>It was still amazing to him that such a comparatively small matter could +make such a difference in the way he was regarded. One day he was the +most obscure and despised man in the Freshman class, and the next +day—he was the most talked of character on the campus. He did not wake +up to find himself famous; he had become famous all in a minute, before +he had a chance to go to sleep. Ever since, it had been, "How are you, +old man," from the very ones who used to laugh and say, "Here comes +'Thank you marm.'" Prominent fellows in the class who formerly merely +nodded to him, said, "You must drop up to my room some evening." The +Sophomores bothered him no more; Channing and Ballard—somehow they were +always looking in the other direction when Young met them on the walk. +Even upper-classmen said, "Hello there, Young," condescendingly but +pleasantly, and that fellow Linton stopped him one day and +congratulated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> him. "Only," he added, puffing his pipe, "only don't get +stuck on yourself, Young."</p> + +<p>"Hello-o-o, Deacon, hold up a minute," called Minerva Powelton one day +on the way from Recitation Hall. "Say, Deacon, old man, come over to my +room, I want to talk to you." He threw an arm carelessly over one of the +Deacon's good shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It's about something important," he said in an undertone as they passed +between the Bulletin Elm and Old Chapel, where the crowd was always +thickest. More than one Freshman, looking on, wished he could be on such +familiar footing with Young. There were others who wished they could be +thus sought out by Powelton.</p> + +<p>It was right here, Young remembered, Powelton put this same arm in the +same way about Lee that day he first heard about the proclamations. +Powelton ignored Young that day. But that was before the Ballard +episode.</p> + +<p>"Deacon," said Powelton, when they had reached the latter's +room—everyone called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> him "Deacon" now, and he liked it—"a crowd of us +fellows are getting up a new eating-club, so we can all be together; at +present, you know, the gang is scattered all over town. We thought we'd +go some place where we could have an extra room to loaf and read the +papers in, like the upper-classmen clubs, besides getting better grub, +even if we have to pay a little more for it. There'll be Lucky, of +course, and Stevie and Todd—Polk would come, only he has been taken to +the 'Varsity training table" (that was the football man who was next to +Young in the rush), "and White, and, well the whole gang of us, you +know, and we want you to join us. It's the best crowd in the class, all +right enough, even if I do say it myself."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged for asking me," Young interrupted, "but I can't afford +it."</p> + +<p>A few weeks ago Young would have given some other excuse, or would have +blushed and hemmed and hawed before he got out this one. And a few weeks +before, the other Freshman might not have known how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> to reply to it: but +they had both gained some new ideas since they came to college, and also +had lost some old ones, which is equally important.</p> + +<p>"Lucky told me you were hard up this year," Powelton said, as if he were +often equally hard up himself. "As I was going on to ask, what would you +say to managing the club—would you mind the bother? Then it wouldn't +cost you a cent. It wouldn't be much bother. Somebody's got to run it, +and we want somebody that's congenial. Come on, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Minerva," said Young, finally, "I'll think about it and tell +you."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Think it over. You've got a week to make up your mind in. +So long."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for asking me. Good-by."</p> + +<p>Young had no objections to managing a club; that was not the reason he +hesitated. It was because he did not agree with Powelton that the +fellows named were the best crowd in the class. In fact, he did not +approve of most of them, and some of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> seemed not to realize what +they had been sent to college for.</p> + +<p>He walked on to his room, debating the matter, and finally wrote a +letter to his mother.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mother</span>:</p> + +<p>"... The sixteen fellows composing the proposed club are the +most prominent men in the class. It is a great compliment to +be asked to join them, I suppose, and what is more +important, I should be saving money by it. But although they +are all nice to me, I do not altogether like them—except +that little fellow, Lee, I told you about, and one or two +others.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, I do not know much about them, but I know +enough to know they do not study much—or 'pole,' as we call +it—and more than that, some of them—well, I don't think +you would like them. Now my friends at my present +eating-club all study hard and have a definite aim in life. +They are helpful and congenial friends. I should not like to +leave them. They say they would hate to have me go, too. But +they also say I would be foolish, for financial reasons, not +to accept the offer."</p></div> + +<p>When Mrs. Young read this letter, she at first wanted to say, "keep out +of fast company, whatever you do!" But on second thoughts she saw that +if Will did not embrace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> this opportunity he might not be able to stay +in college at all—and as for the new associates, she knew that her boy +was no weakling. Finally she agreed with Will's friends that he would be +foolish to let the chance go by, and wrote immediately, saying so. "And +your own conduct will be a good example to the others," she wrote.</p> + +<p>Will had already made up his mind that way before receiving this letter, +and felt so glad and relieved about it that he played very well at right +guard that day; twice he broke through and stopped the opposing +quarter-back from passing the ball, and was duly applauded by those +watching from the terrace behind Witherspoon Hall. He was commended even +by Nolan, the Junior who coached the team. "Now that you're learning to +use your weight," said Nolan, "you're improving a little. By next year +you will know something about the game; by Junior year you might run a +chance of making the 'Varsity." And this was a good deal for a reserved +man like Nolan to say, and quite enough to make Young's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> heart beat +faster, though it was going pretty fast already from the hard exercise.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Young," said the Freshman captain, "we're going to let +you stay at right guard. Come up to my room to-night and get measured +for your suit." This meant that he was no longer trying for the Freshman +eleven, but had earned his place upon it. So he dog-trotted back to his +room, feeling exuberant and strong and hopeful, and very glad that he +had determined to run the new club. "Well, it's beginning to look now as +if I might get through the year," he said to himself as he jogged along. +"Haven't any board to pay now, and if I get through this year, I guess I +can manage as a Sophomore all right. There's the Freshman $200 prize—I +run a chance at winning that at the end of the year; and I'll still have +this club next year. I'll still have tuition remitted. Perhaps I can get +one of those rooms in Old North: the rent is free there, and the rooms +are big, too; and maybe I can get some newspapers to correspond for, or +else I can get some tutoring. Oh, I'll manage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> somehow, all right, if +I'm careful. Then, what'll father say?"</p> + +<p>Panting and perspiring he hurried upstairs to his room, sponged off and +rubbed down with witch-hazel, put on dry clothes, and then walked over +to the club—the old club still; the new one was not to begin till next +week—glowing and glad to be alive.</p> + +<p>They all shouted, "Yea-a-a, Deacon!" at him when he came in, and jumped +up to congratulate him on making the team and pounded him on the back, +for Barrows had overheard what the captain said. Young could tell from +their manner that they were genuinely glad of his success.</p> + +<p>After eating a huge meal with his congenial clubmates he returned to his +room, spent a studious evening with Xenophon, went to bed and slept like +a bear, or rather like a healthy young athlete that is in perfect +condition and has a clear conscience. Oh, these were happy days!</p> + +<p>The next day Young made the arrangements with a woman in Nassau Street +who was famous for good cooking, secured two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> fine front rooms, +subscribed for a number of New York and Philadelphia daily papers, and +showed Powelton, the president of the club, and the other members of the +Board of Directors, how skilful he was in business affairs. His +experience in the bank helped him here.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a name="ILL_006" id="ILL_006"></a> +<img src="images/ill_006.jpg" width="500" height="349" alt=""THE INVINCIBLES."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE INVINCIBLES."<br /><br /> +They had a dignified negro waiter, and they dined in the evening and it all seemed very fine and luxurious.</span> +</div> + +<p>On the following Wednesday he took his place at the head of the table. +"The Invincibles" the club called itself, and they had a dignified negro +waiter and they dined in the evening, and it all seemed very fine and +luxurious to Young. He missed Barrows and old Jim Wilson, the long, thin +fellow who was studying for the ministry, and he felt a little abashed +at first before these more noisy, jolly fellows. He was afraid they +would think him very green.</p> + +<p>But they respected him all the more for being quiet, and his soberness +of mien, which had formerly made him ridiculous, now impressed these +fellows as something fine. They were younger than he.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't say much," one of them remarked after the first day at the +new club.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said another, "but when the time comes he can act."</p> + +<p>"He's matured, and has reserved strength and all that. You can see it in +his face." That was Lucky Lee, who had reason for admiring Young's +strength.</p> + +<p>Naturally it was quite flattering to Young—and so it would be to you or +me—to find these fellows of whom he had been half afraid, treating him +as if they were half afraid of him. He could not help discerning how +pleased some of the younger members were to find themselves walking to +chapel or recitation with the right guard of the class team—"the man +that did up Ballard." Nor could he help being pleased at it.</p> + +<p>And, Young soon decided, they were not such a bad lot as he had at first +thought. Undoubtedly they were not a poling crowd and perhaps some of +them were "sporty," but not so many of them as he had feared. College +was a great place to broaden your mind, he concluded.</p> + +<p>However, as he remarked to some of his former clubmates, when they asked +how he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> liked the new crowd: "They may be doing a great many things when +I'm not around that I don't know anything about. Sometimes at the other +end of the table they make references to things, and they seem not to +want me to understand. I know the other day when I came in late from +football practice, I heard one of 'em say, 'Shut up, Billy, here comes +the Deacon!'"</p> + +<p>And this shows why Wilson, the man studying for the ministry, told +Young, when alone, "Deacon, you have an excellent opportunity for +exercising a steadying, sobering influence upon that set of gay, +thoughtless fellows—they all respect you heartily."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Divisional examinations came along soon after the organization of +the club, and Young was in great demand by those taking the academic +course like himself. Few of the Invincibles had studied conscientiously +during the preceding weeks. They had rather prided themselves on not +being "greasy polers" as they called fellows like Young's former +clubmates, but now they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> were all poling at a great rate themselves, and +some of them declared they would not get through, though to Young's +amazement they seemed not to care whether they were to be conditioned or +not; they considered it a joke.</p> + +<p>Perhaps one or two of them would not have passed, if it had not been for +Young. "The old Deacon is a valuable man to have around," said Billy +Drew. Most of them landed in the lower divisions, but one of them proved +quite a wonder to Young. His name was Todd, and he had never opened a +book, apparently, since the term began. To Young's knowledge he took +long walks into the country—up over the hills to the north of +town—every afternoon after examination instead of studying, and +invariably he was the first to finish his paper and leave the +examination-room. And yet when the lists of divisions were posted, much +to everyone's surprise, Todd's name was in the First division—along +with Young's.</p> + +<p>They jokingly called him "Poler Todd," and made him treat the whole club +to cigars<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> on the way back from dinner. Apparently he was as much +surprised as anyone, but he seemed not to care very much, and the +dignified Deacon did not know what to make of him. Young himself felt +very much gratified over his success and wrote home to the minister +about it, and confided to him, that he was going to try to capture the +Freshman First Honor prize. The minister wrote back a fine, long letter, +wishing him success and congratulating him on his progress, and also +upon his making the team. Will had no idea the minister would be so +pleased over athletic success.</p> + +<p>So, every day now it was, "Deacon, how many lines of Homer do we have +to-day?" "How do you demonstrate this, Deacon?"</p> + +<p>At first he liked to have them appeal to him, but after awhile it became +a little tiresome; not that he minded the trouble—it was no trouble; +but he did not like to be thought of only as a man who always knew where +the lesson was. He began to wish they would treat him more in the +hail-fellow well-met way they treated each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> With Todd, for +instance, they were as familiar and free and easy as they were with +Billy Drew, and yet Todd was a First division man, like Young. Sometimes +he found himself watching them after dinner, and it was a matter of +wonder to him how Todd could always answer Powelton back, with a witty +piece of repartee, quick as a flash, without looking up from the +dessert-plate at which he was aiming tobacco-smoke. Somehow, Will +thought, he would like to be able to do that way.</p> + +<p>The truth was they did not dare to be familiar with Young; they +respected him too much. Sometimes he felt tired of cold respect and +wanted warm liking.</p> + +<p>You see he was a hero to these boys. You and I know that he was made of +flesh and blood, and weakness and strength, like the rest of us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>A QUESTION OF MONEY</h3> + +<p>The great Yale-Princeton football game, which took place during the +Thanksgiving holidays in New York, was now a matter of history—and of +rejoicing, to one side. But as all those interested in football know +which side won the championship that year, it is not necessary to +recount the game and rub it into the losers.</p> + +<p>Everyone, almost, had gone to see the great contest and to cheer for the +team, and Princeton seemed as deserted as in mid-summer. The Invincibles +secured a huge four-in-hand coach and were half frozen driving up Fifth +Avenue to the game; but they had the privilege, granted to Freshmen on +such occasions only, of wearing the sacred orange and black—yards of +it, hung all over their hats, their clothes, the coach, the driver, and +the horses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> They cheered themselves voiceless, and had a time they were +never to forget.</p> + +<p>The Freshman team had played the Columbia University Freshmen in the +morning, and had no difficulty in defeating them by a large score. Right +Guard Young put up a very fair, steady game, the critics said, but had +no chance to make any brilliant play, as he had hoped.</p> + +<p>But the Deacon felt very big and important when his exultant classmates +ran out at the close of the game and carried him and the rest of the +eleven off the field on their shoulders, cheering for each player by +name.</p> + +<p>He felt less important in the afternoon, when the great contest, the +event of the day, took place; he wondered if many of those flocking in +realized that he was Right Guard Young of the Freshman team; again he +feared that he looked like the big green farmer that he did not want +people to think he was.</p> + +<p>The enormous grand-stands and bleachers, and the coaches and carriages, +and even the neighboring houses were jammed with thousands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> and +thousands of eager human beings, wearing violets or chrysanthemums; and +some of the old grads had come from as far as the Pacific coast to see +this manly match, which was to decide the championship of the two best +football teams in the western hemisphere. Young had never before seen so +many people at once—"more than the population of the whole county +you're in," he wrote to his brother Charlie—and never before had he +been so thrilled as when long Jack Stehman made his famous tackle after +that Yale half-back had dodged past all the rest of the Princeton +team.... But the game and its noise and victory and defeat were all over +now, and the two universities had returned to go on where each had left +off before Thanksgiving.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Big Freshman Young had to go on along very pleasant lines, enviable +lines they seemed to many a Freshman who longed in vain to be prominent +and popular, and a member of the dashing Invincibles; but the Deacon had +his worries. It had been very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> fine at first to be looked up to and +admired, but the novelty had worn off by this time, and he had been +hoping and hoping that his table-mates would soon begin to act toward +him in the same easy, familiar, good-fellow way they acted toward each +other. Why they had not, he failed to understand; he knew it wasn't +because he was poor and ran the club; he wondered if it was because he +had not prepared for college at a large school, and hence was green and +ignorant of the ways of the world. That was one of the things that had +off and on worried him, but that was not the worst; that was not what +was making him stay awake at night thinking. It was that alarming +question of money bobbing up again.</p> + +<p>He had supposed that with the club to run, which wiped out the largest +item of expense, he would have enough to worry along with until +something else turned up. But his account in the Princeton bank was +slowly but surely being drained, and thus far nothing had turned up.</p> + +<p>He had intended to be more economical,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> but—well, for instance, the +other Invincibles were always "blowing in" money for spreads in their +rooms and all that; and Young did not like to accept favors without +returning them. To be sure he might have declined their invitations +occasionally, but he wanted to show them that the "dignified Deacon," as +they called him, was not so terribly dignified and stiff, as they seemed +to think. Then, too, when subscription lists were passed around for +various purposes, and they came to him among the first as "one of the +influential men of Ninety-blank," he felt that he ought to do his share; +"it's my duty to the good old class," he said, "I hate stinginess, +anyway."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact he had been doing more than his share, and it was +the appearance of stinginess, possibly, that he hated even more than +stinginess itself.</p> + +<p>Now, he might easily have said: "Here, I can't afford this pace; you +fellows get money from home—I have to earn mine, and so, much as I'd +like to, I simply can't keep step with you—and that's all there is +about it;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> he would have been liked none the less and respected all the +more. "Why, certainly; you are dead right," they would have said. But he +did not want to; he preferred to keep step, and did not like them to +know how little money he had. It was nothing to be ashamed of, surely. +It was not on account of money, as his own experience had shown him, +that a man became popular or prominent.</p> + +<p>More money had gone when he went to New York at Thanksgiving time. His +expenses up and back were paid, of course, by the Freshman football +fund, but Lucky Lee had invited him to stay over Sunday at his home +there; and Young felt ashamed of his cut-away coat—though Lucky said, +"Nonsense"—and so he bought something which he considered very +magnificent at a large ready-made place on Broadway, together with some +brilliant neckties, something like Billy Drew's, and a huge scarf-pin +(but decided not to tell his mother how much they all cost, in the +letter describing what a good time he had and how nice Mrs. Lee was).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>So, altogether, with the new term staring him in the face, and room-rent +to pay, and books—though that was a small item compared to what he had +"blown in" foolishly—it was beginning to look as if Deacon Young would +have to hustle if he meant to stay in college much longer. "We'll see +how long you stay there," his father had said.</p> + +<p>"All right," thought Will, "we'll see! More fellows earn their way +through college than the people out home have any idea of, and I think +I'm as good as the next man. I'll talk to Barrows and Wilson and some of +those quiet fellows about it."</p> + +<p>But it was all very well to say: "Why, there's Dougal Davis in the +Junior class who commands $2.50 an hour for tutoring, and there's +Harris, the Senior, who sometimes makes as much as $20 in a week writing +for the New York and Philadelphia papers;" it was easy enough to point +out how many men made money in various other ways; no doubt many did; +but that was just the trouble—so many did that all the opportunities +seemed to be snapped up already.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, a year hence, if he won the Freshman First Honor prize, he would +not only have the $200 but, in consequence of his high stand, he could +get all the tutoring he would want; but this year he was still a +Freshman and there was no class below him to tutor. Next year, also, he +would have some of those newspaper correspondences of Harris's. Young +had already arranged for that—but this year Harris was still in +college. Young might also get the agency for shoes, or athletic goods, +or photographic supplies next year, or possibly the contract for issuing +the programmes of the baseball and football and track athletic games; +or, he might, as a Sophomore, publish syllabuses of the lecture courses +(and sell them for a dollar each). In fact, now that he was on the +field, he saw more ways of earning money while getting a college +education than he had dreamed of—hundreds of ways, very good ways, if +only he had hustled and availed himself of them at the beginning of the +term. Other Freshmen had secured the jobs of distributing the <i>Daily +Princetonian</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> and <i>The Nassau Literary Magazine</i> and <i>The Tiger</i>, or +had taken the agency for steam-laundries at Trenton, and so on, and so +on, while he, who needed money more than most of them, had only spent it +foolishly, had not earned a cent, had not done a thing for himself, but +accept the club management which had, so to speak, been thrown into his +lap—and this is what he kept telling himself as he walked to and from +recitations, and repeated when he went to bed at night, and remembered +when he awoke in the morning ... until—how time flies at +college!—Christmas vacation was only a week off and still nothing had +turned up. He couldn't go through another term this way.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile what made it all the harder for Young was to watch the ease +with which Lee and Powelton and the others with whom he sat down three +times a day at the club, received their comfortable allowances from +home.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" they would say, cheerfully, when a check came fluttering out of a +letter. All<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> they had to do to get money was to open envelopes and then +sign their names. "You fellows," Young used to think as he watched +them—"You fellows don't know how lucky you are." But of course he said +nothing to them of what worried him. He was not that kind. They had +great respect for his abilities and thought he could do anything. They +did not guess what was going on in his mind these days, while they +talked of the fun they were going to have during the holidays. "I can't +bear to think of your being away from us at Christmas," wrote the +Deacon's mother. "Perhaps," said Young to himself, "I sha'n't be away, +after all."</p> + +<p>Then he wondered what the fellows would think and what the people "out +home" would say.</p> + +<p>He knew just how his father would laugh at him, remarking, "I told you +so," and how his mother, who kept everyone informed of how Will was +getting on at college, would cry; for it would be as great a +disappointment to her as to him. It would surprise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> her, too, for he had +not let her know how much he had spent, telling himself that it would +only worry her unnecessarily, that when the time came he would pitch in +and do something.</p> + +<p>"Deacon," said Lucky Lee on the way to luncheon, "you're to come home +with me for the holidays—at least mother says so in this letter. +Course, I don't want you, but I'll obey my mother."</p> + +<p>The sober Deacon laughed at the pleasantry, and thanked Lucky, but shook +his head at the little fellow's repeated importunities. Young felt that +he couldn't afford even to buy a ticket to New York and back.</p> + +<p>His excuses were so lame, however, that the bright-eyed little Lucky +suddenly got an inkling of what was the trouble. "Say, Deacon," he began +when they were alone, "if you should ever get hard up, I hope you have +decency enough to give your friends a chance to——"</p> + +<p>Young blushed and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean particularly about this vacation," Lucky went on. "You're +coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> home with me all right, if I have to carry you on my back all +the way. I mean in general. For instance, if you—er—that is, well, +blame it, we're good enough friends. If you are 'temporarily +embarrassed,' as they say, when you come back after Christmas, you'll do +what I would do if I were hard up, won't you? If you wouldn't you're no +friend of mine."</p> + +<p>"What would you do, Lucky?"</p> + +<p>"I'd let you lend me some dough—naturally."</p> + +<p>Young hesitated. "Lucky," he said, "I am hard up—don't tell anybody, +but I'm mighty hard up. I'd rather leave college, though, than borrow +money to stay here with."</p> + +<p>But Young spent Christmas holidays with Lucky Lee in New York, and it +turned out to be a very good thing that he did—not only on account of +the temporary rest from worry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>HOW HE STAYED IN COLLEGE</h3> + +<p>"Business is the systematic supplying of wants. When all visible wants +are supplied, you must simply create new wants to satisfy. Patient +willingness to do whatever turns up will only bring success when things +turn up. Under the conditions of modern competition things seldom turn +up of themselves."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lee, Lucky's father, had said this one evening after dinner during +the happy holidays; and Will remembered every word of it, not only +because he had great respect for successful Mr. Lee's opinions, but +because what he said seemed to apply to his own quandary. Mr. Lee seemed +to have taken a fancy to Young, and talked to him frequently. Mrs. Lee +liked him, too. She seemed to consider his preferring to eat his peas +with a spoon a very small matter (though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> Will himself blushed scarlet +when he discovered his mistake). She said she was glad her son had +chosen for one of his intimate friends a young man with so much maturity +and character—this she said to Young himself—"And I know you will look +after him," she said; "he's such an impressionable boy, but he admires +you so much that you can influence him any way you desire."</p> + +<p>The Deacon blushed and said he would try, but what Lucky's father said +made more impression upon him at the time.</p> + +<p>"When all the wants are satisfied you must simply create new wants." It +seemed to Young that this ought to apply to the little world of college +quite as well as to the big world of commerce of which Mr. Lee spoke. +Every day as he walked to and from recitations through the campus, now +muddy and monotonous after a wet snow, Young tried and tried and tried +to think of some new want to satisfy.</p> + +<p>Lucky said he was trying, too; but generally he forgot as soon as anyone +yelled, "Hold up, there, Lucky!" and joined him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> on the walk. It did not +mean so much to him.</p> + +<p>The Deacon was walking past Old Jimmy, the peanut-and fruit-vender, when +the idea came to him. He suddenly stopped short, slapped his thigh, and +said: "I've got it! I've got it!" That night he unfolded his scheme to +Lucky, whose eyes grew big.</p> + +<p>"Deacon, you're a dandy! But, say, are you sure it'll work?"</p> + +<p>"Sure? No, I'm not sure it'll make much. But I'm sure I'll have to leave +college, anyway, if I don't do something, and——"</p> + +<p>"But why go to all the expense of the posters?"</p> + +<p>"To advertise it, get 'em talking, create the want! That's the way to do +business. And just now everything is dull in the college world—no +athletics to distract attention."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll help you stick 'em up. It'll remind us of pasting procs, +eh?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One morning, a few days later, the whole University, on its way to and +from recitations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> and lectures, saw a poster on the Bulletin Elm. It had +two black letters on it, C. C. There was nothing else there. They +glanced at it, wondered what it meant, and passed on.</p> + +<p>The next day a new one was there in letters twice as big, C. C. Again +the college wondered what it meant; but this time some of them did not +pass on until they had asked someone else, "What's that thing for?" +"What's the meaning of that?" No one could answer.</p> + +<p>A snow-storm washed it off during the afternoon.</p> + +<p>A fresh one was put up the next morning.</p> + +<p>"Here's that queer poster again," said the passers-by. "What's it for, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody seems to know."</p> + +<p>The next morning the same letters on larger-sized paper were found not +only on the bulletin-board, but tacked up on all the available trees of +the campus, and in the town on all the billboards, old barrels, +tumble-down sheds, and stalled wagons. On the way to recitation, or +lectures, every one saw C. C. half a dozen times. They saw it on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> the +tree-boxes along the street. When they took walks they saw it on old +barns down toward Kingston.</p> + +<p>Now at Princeton, what there is of a town is little more than a setting +for the University. There are no outside distractions, such as theatres +and the like, as at most large institutions of learning. The campus life +is the only life, and the college students are dependent upon the +college world for all their amusements and between-hour interests. +Everyone keeps in touch with everything that is going on.</p> + +<p>So when this poster with its brief legend continued to appear and +reappear every day, and no one deciphered its meaning, the college began +to get interested—all the more so because it was midwinter, and +therefore neither football nor baseball was absorbing the undergraduate +interest.</p> + +<p>"What's going to happen?" everyone asked. "What's the meaning of this +mystery?" And no one could answer.</p> + +<p>The thing had now kept up for over a week. The <i>Daily Princetonian</i> +commented<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> upon it. Even the faculty began to inquire, in a dignified +way, as to "the meaning of those cabalistic symbols." The undergraduates +had begun to make up words to fit, and rumors floated about the campus. +"C. C.—college clowns," said someone; "it's to be a horse minstrel +troupe."</p> + +<p>"No, that's not it," said another, "it's Curious Customs:—a new book by +a member of the faculty."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" sneered a wise Senior, "it's only a hoax perpetrated by +some under-classmen who think themselves funny; it isn't worth talking +about," and he went on down to the club and talked half through dinner +about it himself.</p> + +<p>Those who considered themselves humorous began to make jokes about it. +"Look, here," one would say, and the other would reply, "I C. C."</p> + +<p>And now suddenly the posters disappeared. None could be found in any +part of the town; Bronson, a Junior, paid half a dollar for one to put +in his scrap-book. "What's become of it!" they asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"C. C.—can't come," answered a funny man.</p> + +<p>They were still talking about its disappearance when, a few days later, +the posters again appeared, more of them than ever, and this time it was +a poster to make the undergraduate world excited. It was in the college +colors, for one thing, the paper being orange and the letters black. +That alone was enough to lend fresh interest, but that was not the most +important change. Under the letters C. C. were the words:</p> + +<h4>"TO-MORROW, THE 12TH, AT NOON, BY THE CANNON."</h4> + +<p>The Cannon is the centre of the front quadrangle and the hub of the +campus life. At half-past twelve o'clock all the morning lectures and +recitations of both upper and lower classes are over, and no one has +anything immediate to attend to. The next day, by the time the bell in +the Old North had finished announcing the noon hour, nearly the whole +university found it convenient to be in the neighborhood of the Cannon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>Old Jimmy Johnson, the ancient negro fruit-and peanut-vender, stood +beside the Cannon, against which leaned his wheelbarrow heaped high with +a mass of small orange-and-black objects, and over them waved an orange +banner on which were two big black letters, C. C. That was all there was +to look at; and old Jimmy was as silent and bored-looking as ever.</p> + +<p>The crowd drew nearer. The orange-and-black things were small pasteboard +boxes, shaped like miniature bricks. On one side of them was printed +these words, "Made from the purest materials, in the most careful +manner, by a secret receipt in the possession of Fraulein Hummel of New +York." On the other side appeared the words, "Delicious College +Caramels, five cents a box," and on either end, "C. C." Old Jimmy kept +on looking solemn and silent.</p> + +<p>At first the crowd seemed inclined to laugh—not at Jimmy or his load so +much as at themselves, for being so worked up over a small affair. "Is +that all it is?" everyone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> thought, and some noisy Sophomores began to +shout, in loud voices, "Sold!" "Leg-pull! Leg-pull!" "Let's go," said +someone else; "all over!"</p> + +<p>But curiosity had been whetted too strongly during the past fortnight +not to have it satisfied as fully as possible. Besides, the boxes looked +very neat, and the simple inscription on them sounded very attractive. +Also it was several hours since breakfast; a number of fellows were +observed to swallow something when reading the word "delicious."</p> + +<p>First, three jocular Juniors, who prided themselves on always doing as +they pleased, strode over to Jimmy's wheelbarrow, arm in arm, announcing +to everybody as they did so, "We are going to have some C. C. We must +have C. C.," and bought a box, which they proceeded to open, and the +contents of which they ostentatiously and with much smacking of lips +devoured before the assembled crowed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we like C. C.!" shouted the three Juniors. "Give us some more, +Jimmy," and then they marched through the crowd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> munching and saying, +"We are the first to see C. C. We are the first to see C. C. Three +cheers for C. C.!"</p> + +<p>By this time several other Juniors, grinning to show they, too, were +joking, went over to the wheelbarrow and put down five cents each.</p> + +<p>Then other Juniors, then some of the Sophomores—who always like to do +what Juniors do—and after that a few Freshmen, made bold to approach +the wheelbarrow, and finally even a Senior or two, "just to see what +they were like, anyway," sampled C. C., and they immediately stopped +looking superior and remarked, "By Jove, they are good! Try them."</p> + +<p>That was what everybody seemed to think, for within half an hour old +black Jimmy, who almost turned white making change, found his +wheelbarrow empty, and went toddling off to have it replenished; while +the undergraduate body of the University of Princeton strolled off to +its mid-day meal, chewing.</p> + +<p>Two of the crowd who lagged behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> seemed pleased about something, and +one was quietly punching the other in the ribs, and saying: "Well, well! +Deacon, well, well! Your little scheme is certainly working, in spite of +my prediction. I hope it will keep on working."</p> + +<p>"Stop punching me, Lucky!" the Deacon said, but he laughed excitedly in +spite of himself. "It'll keep on working all right, you see if it +doesn't. There wasn't any good candy here, and all this needed was an +introduction."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you glad now you went home Christmas with me?" said Lucky, +exultingly; "otherwise you wouldn't have heard us talking about that old +woman and her bully caramels."</p> + +<p>For a week or so C. C.'s were sold as fast as they could be supplied. +They had become "the thing." Students munched them in their rooms, +during their walks, on the way to lecture-rooms, and even inside. They +sent them home to their sisters and to their roommates' sisters. They +told the story in their letters, and their friends sent stamps and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +requests for other packages of "those delicious things."</p> + +<p>Of course the first boom died down, as Young knew it would; but there +remained a good, steady, normal demand for them, and before long he had +cleared, in all, $150.</p> + +<p>"Now," thought Will Young, "I am going to lean back and enjoy life like +Todd and the rest of them. Seems to me I have a right to."</p> + +<p>Of course it had leaked out by this time, as such things always do, who +was at the bottom of the C. C. business, and the college said: "What! +that big, sober-looking green Freshman that did up Ballard? He's quite a +boy, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>Now, when this got around to the Invincibles, and so to Will Young, he +only scowled and thought: "I don't see why they still call me green. I +should think by this time"—then he looked down the table. "Are you +coming up to get in the game this evening?" he heard Billy Drew murmur +to Minerva Powelton.</p> + +<p>They did not ask the Deacon, and for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> some reason the Deacon resented +it. Why? A few months ago he would have resented it if they had asked +him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One wet, muddy day toward the end of the winter two dignified Juniors, +Jimmy Linton, the philosopher, and Billy Nolan, the football man, were +walking across the quadrangle to a four o'clock lecture.</p> + +<p>"Billy," said Linton, "a Freshman is a funny thing. You never can tell +how they are going to turn out. See that fellow ahead there?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's Young the Freshman guard. Say, Jim, that boy's going to +make the Varsity before he gets out of college."</p> + +<p>Linton said, "He may make the team, but he's going to make a fool of +himself first."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's the same old story," Linton smiled. "He's in with a sporty +crowd and is beginning to try to act the way they do. He's a Freshman."</p> + +<p>Nolan shook his head. "You're stuck on your ability to size people up, +but I don't believe Young's that sort of a fool."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, and he doesn't, either. That's just the trouble. It's coming on him +unconsciously. You see he's heard his table-mates talk so much about +things he used to abhor that he's got accustomed to them, and he's +ceased to abhor them. But he doesn't stop there; they seldom do, you +know. You can tell by his walk that his way of looking at things has +changed."</p> + +<p>"But, Jim, Young's not such a kid."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't be, but, you see, he's had too much success in too many +ways—it has dazzled and rattled the young man from the country. Success +has turned his head. He's flattered at being taken up by these prominent +young sporty Freshmen, and he doesn't know how to let well enough +alone."</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"I mean that he wants to get clear 'in it.' He doesn't want to be +considered a big, green giant. He wants to make himself like the rest of +the—Invincibles, I think they call themselves. That is the way to be a +college man, he thinks."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Nolan, "can you account for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> the way people in general, not +only here in college, but in the big, outside world—people that ought +to know better, people you'd never expect it of—can you account for +their making fools of 'emselves to stand in with the crowd? Asses!"</p> + +<p>Then these two moralizers changed the subject to baseball. Both thought +of taking an early opportunity of giving the big Freshman a friendly +tip, for they knew him well enough by this time. And both went off and +forgot; and if it recurred to them, they put it off till they "felt more +like it."</p> + +<p>What had Deacon Young actually done? Oh, nothing at all, or next to +nothing. Billy Drew one morning at breakfast was telling about his +experience of the night before, and then stopped suddenly when Young +entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Go on, I want to hear the rest of it," said the Deacon, smiling +broadly. "I heard the first part while I was taking off my coat in the +hall. Go on." So Drew went on in the grinning, boastful way of a certain +sort of Freshman, with his account of how he fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> upstairs, and how he +tried to catch the bed as it whirled around.</p> + +<p>Some of them began to chuckle. Lucky Lee looked at Young; so did one or +two of the others. Young knew they were looking at him. Here was his +chance to show them he was not so stiff and sober and green as they +imagined. He leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. Then Lucky +Lee and the rest of the table laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>And after that no one took pains to keep things away from the Deacon +again. That seems a very little thing, but, as Linton said, he was not +very likely to stop there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE TROUBLE WITH BEING A HERO</h3> + +<p>The winter, with its jolly long evenings about cosey fire-places, was +over, and the Freshman-Sophomore snowball fight was almost forgotten. +The University baseball candidates had left the "Cage" and were +practising outdoors on the diamond. The glorious spring term had come, +and the Seniors had begun twilight singing on the steps of Old North. +The elms were putting on their new leaves; the undergraduates their new +flannel trousers.</p> + +<p>The Invincibles were on their way from the club, to stretch out under +the old elms and hear the Seniors sing the old songs.</p> + +<p>Powelton was saying: "I don't see why you are so anxious to put him up +for any office. To tell the truth, the old chump has been disgusting me +lately."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not anxious," returned Todd, "but you see, he'll take with the +poling element."</p> + +<p>"But will he, <i>now</i>? He isn't such a gospel shark as we all thought at +first."</p> + +<p>"Of course, he's no saint, but they don't know anything about the +Deacon, except his high stand and his serious-looking face, and the +reputation he made with that C. C. business. Now, as we're running you +and Ashley for president and vice-president, I think it would be foxy to +put up somebody like the old Deacon for the secretary-treasurership." It +was drawing near the time for the election of class officers for the +next year, and Todd was somewhat of a politician.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you're right, but I don't care to serve with him. He's so +uncouth."</p> + +<p>Powelton need not have worried about that; he did not have to serve with +Young. Powelton was not elected; Young was the only nominee of the +Invincibles that was.</p> + +<p>The club had gained a reputation, not altogether deserved, for +snobbishness. They were also considered, rightly perhaps, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> sportiest +crowd in the class; and either of these is dangerous, and the two +together are fatal to a crowd's chances when it comes to class +elections. Besides, the Invincibles had been running class affairs long +enough, and the class thought it would be just as well to distribute +authority and prominence.</p> + +<p>The Invincibles had made the error of taking it for granted that they +would continue to run the class, and bitter was their chagrin when they +found how very mistaken they were. They did not know how to take it; for +several days nobody said very much at the table; they only looked glum +and sour—except Deacon Young.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cork up that tuneless whistle," growled Minerva Powelton; "you make +too much noise." They were familiar with him now.</p> + +<p>Young laughed noisily, but kept on whistling and looked about the table, +as he had seen the others do. Then lighting a cigar, he arose, said, "So +long, fellows—see you later," and walked up the street with his hands +deep in his pockets, his body inclined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> forward in a kind of slouch, +like a certain upper-classman he admired.</p> + +<p>"Look at him," said Powelton from the window. "My, but he makes me tired +when he tries to do the dead-game act."</p> + +<p>He made them all more or less tired, though most of them liked him +somewhat still, but in a very different way now. He was not a hero any +more.</p> + +<p>He tried to make himself as much like them as he could, but he had only +succeeded in seeming unlike himself. They had not expected or wanted him +to be like them.</p> + +<p>They laughed at him, behind his back and to his face.</p> + +<p>He tried harder.</p> + +<p>They laughed more. He did not realize why.</p> + +<p>There were a great many things that he did not realize. When he was +nominated for the secretary-treasurership, as Powelton now felt like +telling him, it was not because they wanted him, but because the club +wanted the office. And neither did he realize that he was elected +chiefly because of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> good reputation, now undeserved, with the +despised quiet fellows of the class.</p> + +<p>All he realized was that he, William Young, who had started out a poor, +ridiculed nonentity from the country, had conquered the famous bully of +the Sophomore class, had won a place as right guard of the Freshman +team, had been sought out by the Invincibles, had earned enough money to +take him through the year, and, finally, had been elected the secretary +and treasurer of the great class of Ninety-blank by popular vote. It was +the very office formerly held by the admired Lucky Lee. It was ill that +was needed to turn his head.</p> + +<p>So he strutted about and looked patronizingly down on his old friends +Barrows and Wilson, and blew smoke in their faces, telling himself how +narrow-minded they were.</p> + +<p>You see, he came to the Invincibles a hero dizzy with success. It is +hard on anyone to be a hero, and success had proved too much for him. +Instead of doing the Invincibles good, as he had intended, they had done +him harm, as they surely never intended. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> such a pity. He could +have made a very different thing of the whole club if he had only used +his influence in the right way.</p> + +<p>But this was another thing he did not realize; at least not until a +little later. And then he did not have the influence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>SERVING TWO MASTERS</h3> + +<p>Although Deacon Young was trying so hard to do the "dead-game act," the +Freshman First Honor prize was still a matter of daily effort with him. +He was really working exceedingly hard for it. He pretended that he was +not working at all.</p> + +<p>He was nearly always with the "crowd" in the evenings and was frequently +seen wandering around as aimlessly as the rest of them during the day. +That was the way he kept from being called a poler.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 371px;"><a name="ILL_007" id="ILL_007"></a> +<img src="images/ill_007.jpg" width="371" height="500" alt="2 A.M." title="" /> +<span class="caption">2 A.M.<br /><br /> +However, after saying good night ... he would sneak off to his room, tie a wet towel around his head, and pole....</span> +</div> + +<p>However, after saying good-night yawningly to the other fellows, he +would sneak off to his room, tie a wet towel around his head, and pole +until 2 a.m. He utilized half-holidays when the others were reading or +were off running hare and hounds, or taking long rambles across country, +or canoeing up the Millstone, or shooting with the gun club,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> or paying +visits to the neighboring cities; also he had dropped out of literary +Hall work entirely, took little exercise, and devoted to his curriculum +studies even the spare time he had formerly put in at miscellaneous +reading. That was the way he kept up his high stand in class.</p> + +<p>So, as the fellows would see him with the idlers until bedtime at night, +and then heard of his making recitations as good as "Poler" Barrows in +the morning, it was no wonder that some began to think him a +"phenomenon" like Todd. That was what Young wanted them to think. He +thought a great deal about what others thought about him—a great deal +too much, some of his more intimate associates decided one evening, +while waiting for him in Minerva Powelton's room.</p> + +<p>"No, don't begin yet," Powelton was saying. "I promised the Deacon we'd +wait for him."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why he is always so anxious to get in the game," said Billy +Drew, inhaling cigarette-smoke. "I don't believe he really enjoys it +very much."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The trouble with the Deacon," said Todd, "is that he is too much afraid +of your opinion. If he hadn't got so bored when we called him dignified +he wouldn't have made the mistake in the first place of trying to be a +dead-game, you know. It isn't his style to be that, so he was guyed and +laughed at. But instead of bracing up and being like himself, he sticks +it on all the harder. He thinks to win favor that way. That's the plain +English of it."</p> + +<p>"Aw, you make me tired!" said Lee, good-naturedly. "Somehow, lately, +you're always preaching. The Deacon wants a little recreation, like the +rest of us. That's all. He has plenty of good stuff in him."</p> + +<p>"Plenty," said Todd. "Trouble is, he doesn't let it out."</p> + +<p>The door opened.</p> + +<p>"Yea! Deacon," said the others.</p> + +<p>"Been doing the poler act on the sly again, have you?" asked Powelton, +throwing a sofa cushion at him.</p> + +<p>"Naw. Hello there, Lucky! You here? Going to get in the little game this +evening,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> hey?" said Young, smiling. "Toddie, you are, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," said Todd, arising and stretching himself.</p> + +<p>"'Fraid, are you?" asked Young.</p> + +<p>Todd laughed contemptuously. "I'm not afraid to have you think I'm +afraid, if it gives you any pleasure; it doesn't hurt me. Lucky, are you +coming with me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Lee, looking at the Deacon, "I reckon I'll stay awhile."</p> + +<p>"Come on, Lucky," Todd said.</p> + +<p>Lee shook his head.</p> + +<p>Todd turned, watched the others a moment, while they got out the cards +and chips, and drew up their chairs to the table; then, smiling +quizzically at Young, he took his hat and left the room.</p> + +<p>Now Young may not have been poling just before he arrived, but together +with late hours and lack of exercise, he looked as pale and haggard as +the hardest poler in college. And by the strong light opposite him, as +he sat playing at the table, a fellow like Linton might have fancied he +saw other lines in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> face—unpleasant lines that meant something +besides hard study and lack of exercise.</p> + +<p>Somehow, at this game, he did not look like the same Deacon Young who +trotted home from football practice last fall, glowing and glad to be +alive.</p> + +<p>The attitude of most of the club toward the class at large was very much +what Young's was toward Barrows and Wilson and those fellows. The +Invincibles had been frowned upon by the class for being "sporty"; +consequently they hated the class. Instead of changing their conduct, +they became "sportier" than ever, and they were fast gaining a +reputation throughout the college world, and they considered themselves +very dangerous.</p> + +<p>The poker game went on. It was getting late, but nobody noticed that.</p> + +<p>"Whose deal is it?"</p> + +<p>"Mine," said Lucky, picking up the cards with a nervous hand; he began +to shuffle them.</p> + +<p>Powelton smiled in his superior way. "Look at Lucky's fingers twitch," +he said. The others laughed, and Young added, indulgently,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> "The little +boy will get over that in time."</p> + +<p>Lee was dealing, and he was too much excited to hear or reply to this +sally; it was 1 <span class="smcap">a.m</span>. of the first night he had ever played cards for +money in his life, and with a beginner's luck he had been winning all +evening.</p> + +<p>"Can you open it, Tommy?" asked Lee, the dealer.</p> + +<p>"Nope," said Stevens.</p> + +<p>"I can't," said Powelton.</p> + +<p>"Can you, Deacon?"</p> + +<p>"No, of course not."</p> + +<p>"Can you, Billy?"</p> + +<p>Drew shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No," said Jones, without waiting to be asked.</p> + +<p>"Sweeten it up, then," said Powelton.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said Lee. "I can. Who's coming in?" He giggled +excitedly.</p> + +<p>Three of the six simply laid down their hands hopelessly. "I never saw +such luck," one of them said.</p> + +<p>Young hesitated a moment "I guess I'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> come in," he said finally. "Four +cards please." He puffed on an extinguished cigar-butt.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! the Deacon's got nerve," said Drew.</p> + +<p>"Oh! he's getting to be an old hand," said Minerva Powelton, winking.</p> + +<p>"See how coolly he picks up his cards," remarked Billy Drew.</p> + +<p>Young paid no attention to these remarks. He was cool outwardly, but it +was the coolness of desperation. He had been losing all the evening as +steadily as Lucky had been gaining. But you see he was not a beginner +now; he had played five or six times and felt himself, as they said, an +old hand at it, and he too had laughed at Lucky's greenness—early in +the evening. But now Lucky, who was never persuaded to play poker until +the Deacon played, was winning away all his money.</p> + +<p>Young did not know how much he had lost; he would not let himself think. +But he knew it was more than he could afford, and he made up his mind +that if he lost this time he would not give himself a chance to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> lose +again. He picked up the four cards he had drawn in place of the +discarded ones, and looked at them. His heart gave a bound. He covered +the cards for a moment, and then looked at them again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's really true," he said to himself. "Surely this hand can't be +beaten."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you do, Deacon?"</p> + +<p>For answer Young simply laid down a large bet.</p> + +<p>"Hully Gee!" whispered Powelton to Drew. "Big bluff the Deacon is +throwing, eh?"</p> + +<p>Lee overheard it. He meant to show the Deacon that he could not be +bluffed out, even if he were a beginner. Besides, he had a hand he was +willing to stake a good deal upon. He put down twice the amount of +Young's bet.</p> + +<p>"Hoho! the bluff didn't work," laughed Drew. "Now, then, Deacon, let's +see what you can do."</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Young. "Don't bother us!" He puffed on his cold cigar a +moment, and then put down another large bet.</p> + +<p>"I'm with you!" said Lucky Lee, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> increased the stake again. His +eyes were glistening.</p> + +<p>For several minutes they kept on increasing the amount in the centre of +the table, one thoughtfully, the other excitedly. The older players now +left off making patronizing remarks, and became interested. Finally +Young said, "No, I won't make it any higher. What have you got?"</p> + +<p>Lee slapped down his cards. His voice trembled a little as he asked, +confidently, "Can you beat that?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," said Young, and he coolly laid down his victorious hand. The +others all looked at it. "It's about time I was winning," he said, +calmly enough; but his heart was thumping.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you keep on raising him?" asked Powelton, sneeringly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had," thought Young, as he gathered in what meant a large +winning for one swoop. Lee was laughing loudly to show he did not care. +He was excited, and would have gone on betting for a long time, Young +thought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was the turning-point. Had Young lost, he might have stopped; but +to stop now would look mean, he reflected.</p> + +<p>"The luck has turned," he whispered to himself. "I'll play a few more +hands." And when the game broke up at dawn, he had lost his winnings, +and more.</p> + +<p>That night he tossed in his bed, and said: "I must stop; that's all +there is about it; I <i>must</i> stop."</p> + +<p>The next time they met to play, Young said, "Go ahead without me; I +don't feel like it to-night."</p> + +<p>"The Deacon hasn't any sporting blood. He's afraid of his own pupil," +Powelton said, and the others laughed. Lucky laughed, too; he was the +pupil. Young played.</p> + +<p>That night Young won handily. He felt especially pleased to win that +night. He thought, "I'll stop the minute I have won back what I lost." +But he did not win back what he had lost, and so played on the next +night, and on the next. And so it went until he was brought to a stop +with a jerk.</p> + +<p>It came near the end of the term and of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> year, shortly before the +final examinations. The crowd had been playing nearly every night, and +of late, somehow, Young had been losing nearly every time he played; but +he said: "I can't afford to stop now. Surely this bad luck can't +continue. I must win! I will win next time!" He could not stop. It is +called "gambler's fever."</p> + +<p>He could not sleep; he was neglecting his studies. He had used up all +his allowance of "absences." He did not mind that, but he had within +these few weeks lost—he would not allow himself to reckon how much! He +had borrowed from the fellows, and he had been steadily drawing from the +bank the precious money for which he had worked so hard, and which meant +so much more to him than money meant to boys with monthly allowances +from home. One morning he made out another check to his own order. "This +is positively the last time," he said to himself. He had said that +before, but this time it was true.</p> + +<p>That night he began to lose with the first hand. He laughed, he played +recklessly, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> lost. He went home, and found a letter in his pocket +while undressing which he had forgotten to open, in hurrying to the +game. This letter said, "We beg leave to call your attention to the fact +that your account seems to be overdrawn to the amount of seventy-five +cents." It was from the Princeton Bank.</p> + +<p>This meant that William Young owned not a cent in the world, and was a +debtor even to the bank besides owing various sums to his companions. He +was bankrupt. It was pretty bad. But that was not the worst of it. That +was not the reason he stood by the table letting his lamp smoke while he +kept staring at the letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>He had kept with his personal account the fund of his class, and every +cent of it was gone with the rest. He had held it in trust as treasurer. +It had amounted to something over one hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>But he had drawn it out unconsciously? No; he knew he had used all his +own money long ago.</p> + +<p>But surely he had meant to return what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> he had borrowed from the class +fund? Oh, yes; but this kind of "borrowing" is called embezzlement—an +ugly word. It really means theft and breach of trust combined.</p> + +<p>Young could not take it all in at first. For awhile he stood there, +saying to himself, "Isn't it funny this letter was in my pocket all the +evening while I was playing—isn't it funny?"</p> + +<p>Then he looked up, sniffed, and said, "That lamp is smoking." He turned +it down, and stared at the flame for nearly a minute. Then suddenly he +blew it out, and was alone in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, it was all true. There was no way of getting out of it. He +realized it all now vividly. He, William Young, a member of the church, +son of honest old Farmer Young, was a gambler and—yes, he might just as +well call it by its right name—a thief!</p> + +<p>He was the one of whom the others at home used to stand in awe because +he was going East for a higher education. He was the one for whom the +minister predicted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> such great things. He was the one who had his +tuition remitted in consideration of "high moral character." He was the +one whose letters from college were read aloud at the sewing society by +a proud little mother, who thought he was the best son in the world.</p> + +<p>Why hadn't he stayed at home and remained an honest man, working hard in +the bank or as a plain farmer, like good little Charlie? Oh, how did he +ever sink so low? If he only had a chance to do it all over again—if he +could only wake up and find it all a dream—if he could only wipe it all +out of existence, how joyous and sunny would be life and duty and hard +work again!</p> + +<p>But it wasn't a dream! It was all very real, indeed. None of it could be +wiped out. It was all there and staring him in the face, real, horribly +real. And that was not all; matters could not remain only as bad as +<i>this</i>. He was an out-and-out embezzler, liable to be found out and +exposed as such at any moment—and then what?</p> + +<p>Leave college with a disgraced name—but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> that would not be all. The +news would go home; it would get there before he did. Everyone in the +county would hear it, and talk about him. Some of them would laugh and +sneer, and say, "Too bad!" and really be secretly glad.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the authorities would send and—it made him weak and sick to +think of it—have him arrested—by an officer of the law—and put in +jail. This would kill his honest, old gray-bearded father. And as for +his mother—but that hurt too much! He shut his eyes; he simply would +not let himself think of that.</p> + +<p>But what could he do? Time was flying. Just now he had heard Old North +strike four in the dark, silent distance—good Old North, on whose steps +he had hoped to sing as a Senior some day. Every moment brought him +nearer to ruin. Something must be done.</p> + +<p>He took hold of his head to quiet its buzzing. "It will do no good to +think about it any more," he said aloud. "Act, act, act—you must!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>First, he spent a few bitter moments on his knees by the bed It is no +one's concern what he said to God. Then he arose, quite calmly struck a +match, and with an almost steady hand lighted the lamp. Then very +deliberately, in a matter-of-fact way, he drew up the rocking-chair so +that the light would come over his left shoulder. He dragged over +another chair to put his feet upon. He sat down. He did a little +figuring at first on the envelope in his hand. Then he opened his +trigonometry and studied furiously until chapel-time. There was, you +see, good stuff in Will Young yet.</p> + +<p>It would do no good to tell himself any longer how low he had fallen; +but it would do a great deal of good to win the Freshman First Honor +prize; and he had no time to lose.</p> + +<p>To win was not a mere ambition now—it was a grim necessity. It was the +one way of keeping from being disgraced in the eyes of the world as +deeply as he was in his own and God's.</p> + +<p>The prize would not come until commencement. Before that time the class<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +might vote to use its money. They might instruct their "honorable +treasurer" to expend the funds on decorations and a brass band, as was +sometimes done at the close of examinations to celebrate their +Sophomorehood; and what would he do then! He decided that he must not +let himself think about that now. It made his heart stop so short it +fairly hurt; besides, it interrupted his work.</p> + +<p>He had figured it all out in his neat businesslike hand on the envelope. +On one side, under assets, he wrote, "Freshman prize, if won, $200;" on +the other side the following list:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>The Princeton Bank overdraw</td><td align='right'>$0.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Henry Powelton, borrowed</td><td align='right'>10.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Carey H. Lee, borrowed</td><td align='right'>25.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>William Sinclair Drew</td><td align='right'>23.35</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The class of Ninety-blank debt</td><td align='right'>117.20</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>———-</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Total</td><td align='right'>$176.30</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Two hundred dollars would "square" him, and just leave enough to buy a +ticket back to the old farm—that is, if he wanted to go there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST CHANCE</h3> + +<p>Many times that huge, dark thing in the background of his thoughts +jumped into the foreground and interrupted his work; but he accomplished +a good deal. He felt a glow of hope. It was only ten days to the +examinations, but it had only been during the past month of madness that +he had neglected his studies. He could soon make that up.</p> + +<p>Just as he started for chapel, he suddenly began to wonder if he had +been mistaken about that prize. Wasn't it only $100 after all? He took +down a catalogue and looked it up. He was right, the prize was $200.</p> + +<p>"A prize of $200, part of the income of the J. S. K. fund;" but what was +this?—"To be paid in quarterly instalments during the following year"! +He had never noticed that before. For a moment it made him feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> sick at +the stomach. Then he decided that it was not so bad after all, for if he +only won the prize he could borrow money on the certificate of it that +would be presented the winner at commencement.</p> + +<p>For the first day or two the club guyed him for turning poler, and they +thought his serious and grave demeanor was very funny when he declined +to join with them in their pursuits. At first he paid no attention to +their jeers; he had no time. Then came the day he got angry and said. +"It makes no difference to me what you fellows think. I've quit my +foolishness for good, and that's all there is to it. Now let me alone."</p> + +<p>He struck the table a heavy blow, and looked as if he meant everything +he said; and no one felt inclined to guy him again. He looked like the +old Deacon who had done up Ballard.</p> + +<p>"The Deacon must have an attack of R. E. Morse," Billy Drew said, as he +left the room.</p> + +<p>"I think he's pretty hard hit financially," said Lucky Lee, who had been +pretty hard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> hit of late himself. "He's working his way through college, +you know. I wish he hadn't lost so much money."</p> + +<p>"He had no business playing, then," said Powelton.</p> + +<p>"I respect him for stopping, anyway," said Todd, who seldom played +cards; recently he had not played at all; he had been doing some +studying, "just for fun," he said.</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Lee, in a low voice, and the others agreed—in lower +voices.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Young was studying as if his life depended upon it, and the +strain was telling. He had lost twenty-four pounds since the football +season.</p> + +<p>The fellows saw nothing of him now except at meals, where he kept his +white face turned down to the book beside his plate. They had left off +guying him, and were worrying about him instead.</p> + +<p>They began saying: "See here, old man, you've got to quit this. You'll +kill yourself if you keep on this way. The prize isn't worth it." But it +did no good. Finally a number of them came up to his room one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> evening +to see what they could do about it. They were headed by Lucky Lee.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would let me alone," was all that Young would say. "I've +simply got to win that prize."</p> + +<p>"Why have you got to?" asked Lucky, in his nice, refined voice.</p> + +<p>At that Young only smiled queerly, and turned to the table where his +books were.</p> + +<p>"See here, you old chump," said Lucky. "I believe you've got a +notion—say, fellows, the Deacon's got a notion that just because he +owes some of us a couple of dollars or so we are in a hurry to be paid +back. If he thinks that, he's an old ass, isn't he, fellows?"</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly," said Powelton.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Young, curtly; "but as I said before, I intend to +square up at commencement."</p> + +<p>"Why, we can get along just as well till next fall," Lucky went on, +although he had pawned some of his clothes as well as his bicycle last +week. "In fact, if you're worrying about it, why—well—they were +gambling debts, Will, and——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lucky," said Young, flushing, "that's no way to talk. I'm an honest man +and"——then he stopped suddenly; he was not an honest man, and this was +the first time he had been called "Will" since he left home, and home +was what he hated most of all to think of in these days, and this was +Lucky Lee, who never would have had gambling debts, if it had not been +for him, and whose kind mother he had promised—— Altogether he felt +very queer and wrought up, and for a wild moment he had a notion to tell +them all about it, and make a clean breast of it.</p> + +<p>If he had done so they might have helped him out and sworn secrecy; but +Young was not the sort that could do it. "Please go away, fellows, and +leave me alone. You're mighty good, but—you don't understand," he said.</p> + +<p>They could see something was troubling him greatly. They did go away, +and they did not understand, but they felt very sorry. After that Todd, +without telling the reason, left off studying hard and took to rambling +in the woods again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to try for the prize, then?" they asked him.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't stand any chance against Young," he answered. But the others +were not so sure about that.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile every hour brought final examinations sixty minutes nearer, +and Young, all alone in his little bake-oven of a room, was studying as +probably no student had ever studied in that old room before. Sometimes +he felt that even his powerful constitution would not stand the strain +much longer; but he could not afford to break down or die until after +commencement, until after disgrace had been averted from his family +name. It was that thought which kept his heavy eyelids open.</p> + +<p>Examination week was like a long, hideous nightmare.</p> + +<p>There were tasks that seemed superhuman to perform, and with them the +sickening dread that he could not perform them. When the last paper was +finished and handed in he had a horrible conviction that he had lost the +prize. He felt sure of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he could not be sure until commencement day itself, and before that +came four days of preliminary commencement gayety. Each one of these +contained for Young twenty-four hours of suspense, and these were worse +than examination days—there was nothing to take his mind off what he +did not want to think about. He could not sleep. His nerves were used +up; and everybody else was so happy!</p> + +<p>The campus was bright with hundreds of attractive girls in summer +costumes, and alive with rollicking old graduates holding noisy +reunions. But even at the baseball game, when the nine was beating Yale +and everyone else was crazy with exultant joy, Young was saying to +himself: "How should I break the news to mother? Should I let matters +take their course, or—what are they all cheering for now? Oh, I see, +Cap has made another hit!"</p> + +<p>The worst of it was that he had no one to take him out of himself. +Nearly all his classmates and all his intimates were packing up and +going home, as Freshmen usually do,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> without waiting for commencement. +Luckily they had not voted to celebrate their Sophomorehood! He wandered +about all alone; and all alone he went in to hear his fate decided on +commencement morning.</p> + +<p>Near the door he stood, squeezed in beside some graduates he had never +seen before, who wondered why this long, gaunt undergraduate started so +when the clerk of the Board of Trustees arose and began to announce the +fellowships and prizes.</p> + +<p>The awards were read from a long list in the clerk's hand, and after +each announcement there was a cheer from the members of the literary +society to which the victor belonged. It delayed matters so. Sometimes +they cheered several times. Then the clerk cleared his throat and went +on slowly.</p> + +<p>At last he came down toward the end of the list.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," said Young, bracing himself. "I know I am going to lose." +He did not dare look up. Just in front of him sat a good-looking girl. +He saw her put her pretty orange-and-black-bordered programme<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> to her +lips and suppress a yawn while the loud, monotonous voice of the clerk +said, "The Freshman First Honor prize awarded to J. Milton Barrows, of +Pennsylvania."</p> + +<p>Young stood perfectly still. He did not move a muscle. He heard the loud +cheering. He heard a man behind him say, "Well! well!" He heard the band +strike up a lively air. Still looking at the girl, he saw her begin to +beat time to the music with her programme against her pursed lips.</p> + +<p>Then he shut his eyes tight for a moment and asked himself: "What was it +I was going to do? I cannot remember somehow. What was it? Shall—shall +I telegraph——"</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the valedictorian had finished his oration, then the +benediction was pronounced, and the audience flocked out laughing and +talking while the band played with all its might. Commencement was over, +and the college year was a matter of history.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A few hours later Young was speeding across the country at the rate of +ever so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> many miles an hour toward the old prairie farm, toward the home +he had disgraced.</p> + +<p>He did not know why he was going home, unless it was because the watch +he pawned brought just the right amount of money. Instinct made him do +it, perhaps.</p> + +<p>As the train started off down the grade he stood on the rear platform, +and looked back at the green campus and the dear old brown building.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he said to himself, "perhaps in time they'll forget that +there ever was a fellow named 'Deacon' Young."</p> + +<p>Then the car turned the curve, and the college was hidden from view.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>"HOME FROM COLLEGE"</h3> + +<p>She was standing beside the neatly painted horse-block, waiting to +welcome her boy. Will had spied her from the road.</p> + +<p>As the buggy turned in through the gate he began to brace himself for +meeting her. This was going to be harder, he knew, than had been the +meeting at the railroad station a little while before, with his father, +whose honest old eyes had looked at him so searchingly.</p> + +<p>He was coming nearer and nearer. She was smiling. It was the same +motherly smile he had known he would see. Now she was speaking his name. +The next moment he was out of the buggy, and she was kissing him just as +when he was an innocent little boy. She was frightened at her son's +pale, haggard face, but she did not want him to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> know it, and only +said, patting his cheek laughingly, "Why didn't you take better care of +yourself, child?"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 352px;"><a name="ILL_008" id="ILL_008"></a> +<img src="images/ill_008.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt="THE MEETING" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE MEETING<br /><br /> +"I don't know, mother," he said slowly, "I don't know...."</span> +</div> + +<p>They were walking up the path. Will looked down at her. The tears were +forming in the little mother's eyes. He looked away again. "I don't +know, mother," he said, slowly, "I don't know why I didn't take better +care of myself."</p> + +<p>"There, don't talk. You must rest after your long journey. Keep still +now. You can tell me all about everything later on." They opened the +screen door and went in.</p> + +<p>Even Mr. Young had been alarmed when he saw his son step off the train. +At least he treated him very considerately and said, as he shook his +hand: "I guess you've been studying too hard there at school, ain't you? +'All work and no play'—you know the rest of it."</p> + +<p>Will dropped his eyes as he thought of the kind of playing he had been +doing. Then he said, abruptly: "Well, I'll have plenty of time to get +well in," looked up the street and remarked that everything seemed the +same.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, everything's the same with us," his father replied, unhitching the +horse.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Molly," Will said to the mare, "do you remember me?"</p> + +<p>He was embarrassed in his father's presence, and Mr. Young seemed to +notice it, for as they got into the buggy he said, in an uneasy manner: +"Mother got your telegram, but I had to come to town anyway, so I +thought I might just as well drive you out home myself. Had a pleasant +trip?"</p> + +<p>Indeed, his father, who had never once written him a letter during the +nine months' absence, was the last one Will expected to meet at the +station, but that was not what caused Will's constraint. It was the +queer searching way he looked at him every now and then.</p> + +<p>"Could he have heard about it!" Will kept asking himself. "No, he +<i>can't</i> know. If he knew—if he knew, he would be taking me to jail +instead of home. He would say it served me right for going against his +wishes."</p> + +<p>At supper-time his father and his brother Charlie came in from the +cornfields together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> "Hope you'll bring us rain," said Mr. Young. "We +need it." Charlie was brown and big, and he gave Will's hand a hearty +grip and said, "Glad to see you back, Will, blamed if I ain't."</p> + +<p>Charlie never had ambitions for higher education. "Lucky Charlie!" +thought Will, remembering how he used to look down on him.</p> + +<p>"They must make you study a lot, though!" Charlie added, looking at +Will's face.</p> + +<p>Mr. Young disappeared for a few minutes into the next room; when he +returned he interrupted the conversation with, "By the way, mother, Will +says he don't think he'll go back there to school any more."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Young did not want the matter discussed just now, for she saw a +pained look come over Will's face at the mention of it. "Whatever he +does," she said, in her bright, quick manner, "he must get well and +strong and happy again. Cheer up, Will, cheer up, look happy—my +goodness! just see his face," she went on laughing. "Don't you know +you're home, anyway, boy?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes, he was home, anyway. But what a way it was; not very much like the +proud homecoming he had pictured long ago.</p> + +<p>Mr. Young did not like to be switched off the subject. He went on, in a +queer tone: "Yes, I thought you'd come around to my way of thinking. I +thought you'd get tired of putting yourself through college, as you +called it. I ain't surprised, not a bit."</p> + +<p>Will did not feel piqued or indignant. He only asked himself how much +longer he would wait before telling them all that he, William Young, son +of his father, member of the church, and the boy who had his tuition +remitted in consequence of a "high moral character," was a gambler and a +thief, and was liable to be exposed as such at any moment. Even now at +this hour somebody there in the East might be making inquiries as to his +whereabouts.</p> + +<p>This load was becoming more than he could bear. Why not tell them all, +right then and there, and have it over with? "Listen, father," said +Will, his voice breaking a little. "You little understand the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> meaning +of my actions. Listen, everybody. I have something important to say."</p> + +<p>"Shissh, Will, keep quiet, you're nervous," interrupted his mother. +"Father, don't let the poor boy try to talk. He's sick. He's all wrought +up; look at him."</p> + +<p>"But I must explain—I <i>will</i> explain. You all must know. Now listen: +the reason I'm not going back—the reason I had to study so——"</p> + +<p>"Keep still, Will," said his father, in a grave tone; "you needn't go +on. I know all about it."</p> + +<p>Will's heart stood still.</p> + +<p>"You know all about it, father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the minister told us how hard you were working for the prize. And +we read in the Chicago papers that another boy won it——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't understand; you don't know why I needed to win it. You +don't know anything about it—anything about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I do, Will," said Mr. Young, fumbling in his pocket for +something, "yes, I do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Young put in excitedly: "It was because you had to have the money +to go back next year. That was the reason you worked yourself nearly +into the grave and wrote such short, irregular letters home and——"</p> + +<p>"Now, mother, keep still," interrupted Mr. Young, "I have something to +say." He dropped his eyes as though ashamed. He had taken out of his +pocket a slip of paper. There was some printing on it and some blank +places filled in with writing. He cleared his throat in the way he was +accustomed to do when he got up in prayer-meeting. "You had to have the +money. It was a necessity. You worked hard for it, but you missed it. +And I thought, seeing you missed the prize there at school, I would show +my appreciation of your efforts there at school, that—now, Will, take +this and stop looking at me in that way. You done your best. Now you +won't have to change your plans. I hate to see people change their +plans."</p> + +<p>His father had put the slip of paper in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> hand. Will looked at it. It +was a check drawn on the Farmers' National Bank. It said, "Pay to the +order of William Young Two Hundred Dollars ($200)." What did it all +mean?</p> + +<p>It meant that the obstinate will of good old Farmer Young, that could +not be budged by the arguments of the minister or bent by the coaxing of +his wife, had finally been melted away by his own full heart at seeing +this poor sick boy of his, who bore the marks of having struggled so +pluckily and so discouragingly to earn for himself what his father had +refused to grant. Also it meant that Will Young could lift his head once +more, a free man.</p> + +<p>"Why, where are you going, Will?" asked his mother. He had got up from +the table.</p> + +<p>"I'm not hungry," he said, in a strange voice; "I'm going up to my room. +I'll be down soon." Then as he opened the door he said, without turning +around: "I don't deserve this, father. I can't tell you just now how +little I deserve it, but I'm going to take it." The door closed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What on earth's the matter with the boy?" said Mrs. Young, sighing. "I +suppose it's because he takes losing that prize so to heart. He's too +conscientious. Don't deserve it!—nonsense!"</p> + +<p>When Will came down he looked better.</p> + +<p>"Did Charlie say he was going to drive to town," he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said his mother. "But you don't want——"</p> + +<p>"No, but I've got some letters here I'd like to go East the first thing +in the morning." And the next morning they were going East as fast as +the United States mail-cars could carry them.</p> + +<p>One of them was to the Princeton Bank, and it contained the check for +$200, and an apology for overdrawing his account the month previous, +which was "not likely to happen again," he said.</p> + +<p>The other contained checks also, drawn on that very bank for various +amounts to the order of Carey H. Lee and the rest, whose home addresses +he had looked up in the college catalogue.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>And then he had the first calm full night's sleep in over a month and +came down to breakfast singing "The Orange and the Black," and all the +family thought it a "real pretty song," and did not know that Will sang +it to a tune of his own.</p> + +<p>He felt like a new man. Perhaps he was.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Mrs. Young, "look at Will; he's better already. I knew my +cooking and a little home comfort would do worlds for him. And I guess," +she added, in Mr. Young's ear, "you cheered him up more by giving him +that money, father."</p> + +<p>Mr. Young felt that he had been pretty generous, but he only growled.</p> + +<p>They did not know the real reason Will was so exuberant this bright +sunny morning.</p> + +<p>Was it necessary for them to know? That was one thing left to worry +about: whether it would be right to overwhelm his parents by telling +them of what their son had been through, or would it be wrong to keep on +taking their love and sympathy (as it seemed he had received his +father's check) on false pretences? He kept on being perplexed until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> he +finally confessed his whole story to the minister and asked him what to +do about it.</p> + +<p>The minister, in his straightforward way, asked, "Have you confessed it +to God, Will?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Will, dropping his eyes.</p> + +<p>"And has He forgiven you?"</p> + +<p>Will paused a moment. "I think He has now."</p> + +<p>"Then I think that is enough. In one sense it is certainly deceiving +them not to tell them, but I think it is the lesser of two evils. It +would do little or no good to tell your good old parents. It would only +grieve them as much as it would amaze them. You can pay back what you +owe your parents in love and kindness as well as in money. Don't you +think so?"</p> + +<p>Will thought so and he made up his mind to try.</p> + +<p>It became a matter of comment among the neighbors the way Will Young, +whom they were inclined to look at sceptically since "he went East to +college," was pitching in and working harder than any hired man on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> his +father's place and, what was more surprising, seeming to enjoy it; they +did not know quite what to make of it. He was paying back the $200.</p> + +<p>It surprised his father also and pleased him, and so did Will's +respectful manner and his simple boyish endeavors to carry out all his +wishes. He was trying to pay back the other debt also.</p> + +<p>When the fall came again Mr. Young hated more than ever to have him +leave, but this time, as he told Will's mother, he would fix it, he +guessed, so Will wouldn't have to work himself to a skeleton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE END OF IT</h3> + +<p>"Hello, here comes Deacon Young with a brand new orange-and-black blazer +on!"</p> + +<p>"Yea-a-a," interrupted one fellow in a loud, shrill voice, and the +others all joined in and yelled, "Yea-a, Deacon!" and ran at him and +pounded him on the shoulders, jumped on his back and made other signs of +pleasure at seeing a classmate once more, while they asked him what kind +of a vacation he had had, and told him he looked as though he had been +training for football all summer. Will laughed and told how he had +trained.</p> + +<p>"It must be great to work on a farm," said Lee, punching the Deacon's +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Come on," one of them shouted, "we're taking a walk about the old place +to see how everything looks. Let's gather a crowd—Ninety-blank this +way!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>They shouted the old cry in concert and started off together.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do this year, Deacon?" It was Todd who happened +to be marching next to Young.</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, are you going to pole or loaf or be a dead-game or what?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered Young, "I'm going to do some of the first and combine +some football with it if I have good luck; but I am not going to try any +more of the last. I don't know as I need tell you that, Todd." He wanted +to say more, but only frowned as he thought of how hard it would be to +accomplish what he had resolved to accomplish with the club this year.</p> + +<p>Todd said, "I'm glad you told me, though. I think the whole club made a +fool of itself last year. It needs to take a big brace."</p> + +<p>Young turned and looked at him. Todd had spoken in his usual quiet, +careless manner, but Young thought his words implied something.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you think—say, Todd, do you think there's much hope of its +bracing?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless they're made to," laughed Todd. "Perhaps," he said, looking +the other way, "we can make 'em if we pull together. What do you say, +Deacon?"</p> + +<p>"Let's try," said Young. He held out his hand.</p> + +<p>Todd took it in an embarrassed manner, and then shouted: "Hi, there, you +fellows in front! Let's go down to meet the 2.17. There'll be a lot of +the class in on that train. Start up a song, somebody."</p> + +<p>They all marched off across the campus singing, with loud happy voices:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">"Here's to Ninety-blank—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 26em;">Drink her down—drink her down."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Arms were thrown carelessly over shoulders and perhaps they swaggered a +little as they marched. But it feels very good to be a Sophomore, +especially the first day.</p> + +<p>And all this fraternal joyousness, together with the superabundance of +orange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> and black, greatly impressed one of the very green Freshmen who +happened just then to be scurrying by with wonder in his eyes. And it +happened to be at about the same spot in the walk that another Freshman +had met another crowd of Sophomores and was called "Deacon" for the +first time in his life. But that was a whole year ago.</p> + +<p>Young had learned a good deal in that year, he was thinking. "Not all of +what you are taught at college," he said to himself, "comes out of the +text-books—especially in Freshman year."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>By Jesse Lynch Williams</h2> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>The Stolen Story</h3> + +<h3>And Other Newspaper Stories</h3> + +<h4><i>Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25</i></h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>Charles Scribner's Sons, Publishers</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Mr. Williams has had the good fortune—it really seems largely a matter +of luck in many cases—to treat his fresh material with a simplicity +which imparts a sense of strong reality. The newspaper life has a +lasting fascination for any one who has ever known it, and I think the +most ignorant must feel something of its charm in these tales."—<span class="smcap">W. D. +Howells</span> in <i>Literature</i>.</p> + +<p>"This is not, however, a volume of moral essays on journalism; it is +first and last a collection of stories, told in a compressed, rapid +style that carries you along with something of the zest that took +possession of Billy Woods when he was on the track of a beat."—<span class="smcap">Droch</span> in +<i>Life</i>.</p> + +<p>"Told with such fidelity and skill as to command the attention and +favorable comment of the men who make newspapers."—<span class="smcap">Chester S. Lord</span>, +Managing Editor of the New York <i>Sun</i>, in the <i>Book Buyer</i>.</p> + +<p>"Have not only taken the newspaper world by storm, but the reading world +in general are turning to bestow more than a second glance at the work +of this brilliant writer.... More than a quarter of the work is new +matter, now appearing for the first time."—<i>The Boston Courier</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>By Jesse Lynch Williams</h2> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>Princeton Stories</h3> + +<h4><i>EIGHTH EDITION. 16mo, $1.00</i></h4> + +<p>"Here is the evanescent charm, the touch of poetry and sentiment that +pervades a thousand unpoetic and rather reserved young men. You will +find here the good-fellowship depicted without any rant about it. There +isn't a prig in these stories ... that are well written and well +constructed, judged from the standard of good American short-story +writing."—<span class="smcap">Droch</span> in <i>Life</i>.</p> + +<p>"Beside being well constructed and well told, they breathe a spirit of +commendable vigor and manliness. Princeton men are fortunate in having +the life of their college so favorably presented to the outside +world."—<i>Atlantic Monthly</i>.</p> + +<p>"The stories are told with a naturalness and truthfulness that are very +charming. The author ... enables the reader to find the real Princeton +man of to-day, not as he ought to be, but as he is."—<i>Boston Home +Journal</i>.</p> + +<p>"No stories of American college life that have yet appeared are equal to +'Princeton Stories.'"—<i>The Golden Rule</i>.</p> + +<p>"He has the real art of not saying the one word too much."—<i>The Book +Buyer</i>.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>Charles Scribner's Sons</h4> + +<h4>153-157 Fifth Avenue</h4> + +<h4>New York</h4> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of a Freshman, by +Jesse Lynch Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A FRESHMAN *** + +***** This file should be named 34986-h.htm or 34986-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/8/34986/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Adventures of a Freshman + +Author: Jesse Lynch Williams + +Release Date: January 17, 2011 [EBook #34986] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A FRESHMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print archive. + + + + + + + + + +The ADVENTURES +OF A FRESHMAN + + +By +JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS + +Author of "Princeton Stories" and "The +Stolen Story and other Newspaper Stories" + + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS +153-157 Fifth Avenue :: New York + + + + +Copyright, 1899, by +Charles Scribner's Sons + + + + +To +HENRY MEADE WILLIAMS +A SUB-FRESHMAN + + + + +[Illustration: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE SOPHOMORES +"You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk.... Well give you just five +seconds to take off that ugly hat, and if you don't----"] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Chapter Page + I. The First Day at College 1 + II. The "Big, Green Freshman from Squeedunk" 9 + III. The Great Sophomore-Freshman Rush 19 + IV. Welcome and Unwelcome Visitors 42 + V. Hazing 56 + VI. Work--Play--"Procs" 66 + VII. The Last Hazing of "The Meek Butt of all Classes" 88 + VIII. How it Feels to be a Hero 110 + IX. A Question of Money 125 + X. How he Stayed in College 137 + XI. The Trouble with being a Hero 153 + XII. Serving Two Masters 159 + XIII. The Last Chance 176 + XIV. "Home from College" 186 + XV. The End of it 198 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +_From drawings by Fletcher Ransom_ + + The First Encounter with the Sophomores _Frontispiece_ + + "You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk.... We'll give you + just five seconds to take off that ugly hat, and if you + don't----" + + Facing + page + + After the Rush 40 + + In walked ... the little Sophomore, and behind him a very + big Sophomore. Young recognised him as the one.... + + Hazing 58 + + "Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile." + + The Hero of the Bell-Clapper 70 + + Lee was one of the most prominent and popular men in the + class. + + "Meek Butt of all Classes!" 108 + + Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day, + the whole college was talking about it. + + "The Invincibles" 118 + + They had a dignified negro waiter, and they dined in the + evening and it all seemed very fine and luxurious. + + 2 A.M. 158 + + However, after saying good night ... he would sneak off to + his room, tie a wet towel around his head, and pole.... + + The Meeting 186 + + "I don't know, mother," he said slowly, "I don't know...." + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE FIRST DAY AT COLLEGE + + +"Hi, there! you big Freshman, take off your hat--yes, we're talking to +_you_--take off your hat to the class above you--stop, don't try to get +by, my sober-faced young friend. That would not be nice of you." + +At first the Freshman did not understand that he was the one addressed, +and, when he did, his first startled impulse was to hurry by and pretend +not to notice them. + +But he could not now; the walk was blocked by this group of four fellows +who were now calmly smiling at him in an amused way, as if he were a +curious child, though really he was as old as any of them. The only way +he could avoid them was by turning back toward the street, and this he +would not do. So he stood his ground and looked straight back at them. + +"Well, you seem to enjoy looking; how do you like us, Freshman?" asked +one of the Sophomores, taking his pipe out of his mouth. Three of them +were smoking pipes and all four wore those queer striped-flannel coats +of broad orange and black that had attracted his attention when he first +got off the train. Afterward he learned that they were called blazers. + +They were close beside him now and they were looking him up and down. +One of them remarked to the others, "O, ye shades of Aaron Burr, but +this is a green one. What's your name, Freshman?" + +Then one of the others interrupted in a loud tone, "Take off your hat, +Freshman." + +It was the same high voice that had broken in upon him at the first. Its +owner was the shortest of the lot, but he smoked the longest pipe. + +"Take off your hat," he commanded, "and don't look so sober. We aren't +going to hurt you." + +They were all looking at him. The Freshman felt himself blushing; he +smiled and tried to look good-natured. + +"I wouldn't smile if I were you," put in one of the others; "your teeth +aren't even." + +The others laughed at this, but the small Sophomore said, "Come, wipe +away that smile and take off your hat, I tell you." + +The Freshman stopped smiling and looked up across the campus instead. +Two men were entering an old brown building, busily talking, their arms +about each other's shoulders; they seemed very happy. He shifted from +one foot to the other. + +"See here, Freshman," cried the little Sophomore, in an amazed tone, +"didn't you hear me tell you to take off your hat?" He had a large, +sneering mouth, and he constantly tried to say sarcastic things. He held +his chin elevated, as if to make himself a little taller, and the big +Freshman, looking down at him, thought how he would like to pick him up +and spank him. The Freshman had no intention of taking off his hat. + +Perhaps the Sophomore knew what he was thinking; at any rate, he stepped +up close to him, and shaking a finger under his face, he snarled out, +"You big, green Freshman from Squeedunk, you're the freshest one I've +seen yet. We'll give you just five seconds to take off that ugly hat, +and if you don't----" + +"Look out--look out! there comes Matt," in a quick, scared voice, one of +the others interrupted. + +Matthew Goldie, the famous old proctor, was sauntering down the walk +wriggling his fingers, as was his habit, and looking apparently in the +other direction. This was also his habit. + +Even in those days, before hazing was abolished by the undergraduate +vote, when it was thought, even by the Faculty, that hazing had its +redeeming features, it was a rather reckless proceeding for a crowd of +Sophomores to take a Freshman in hand on the front campus in broad +daylight and in plain sight of the Dean's house. + +The small Sophomore's pipe was not two inches from the Freshman's face +when the warning was sounded and Matt Goldie was coming straight down +the walk toward him, and yet, to the surprise of all, he went on in the +same earnest manner, only now he was saying: + +"I tell you, my dear sir, you will thank me all your life if you join +Whig Hall. Why, there is no comparing the two literary societies. Now, +just look at the records of the past years: In the first place, Whig +Hall was founded by President James Madison when he was a student +here"----and then the small Sophomore went glibly on with the arguments +the Whig men usually employ when claiming superiority to their rival +society, Clio Hall. + +Matthew Goldie had approached, come even with the group and passed by, +oblivious of its existence, apparently. But the Sophomores knew he was +not so oblivious as he looked, so they began to move off. + +"Good-by, Freshman," they said, laughingly, "sorry we have to leave you +so soon. Come on, Channing." + +But Channing lingered a moment. "What's your name?" he demanded + +The Freshman thought it was none of this fellow's business, but he +wanted to show he was not afraid. "Young," he said. + +"Your initials?" + +"My name is William Young, if you want to know," answered the Freshman, +decisively. + +"Willie, eh?" + +Those of the others who were near enough to hear laughed at this. + +"Well, you are rather old to be called Young--Willie Young, especially. +Hereafter you shall be known as 'Deacon Young.'" + +"Aw, come on, Chan," called the others. + +"All right," said Channing, but he turned to the Freshman as he started +off and remarked, threateningly, "We'll meet again, you big, green +Freshman." + +"I hope so," promptly returned Young, "you little, mouthy Sophomore." + +And this was the very worst thing he could have said, as he was +afterward taught, if he had wanted to avoid hazing. He did not know that +the best way to get along with the Sophomores was to take their +initiating--not humbly, which was almost worse than getting mad about +it--but laughingly and good-naturedly, for as soon as he acknowledged +the fact that he was only a Freshman and recognized that he belonged to +the lowest of four grades of college importance, they would let him +alone. + +But Young was not of a sort readily to acknowledge subordination to +anybody, and he had never been hazed and he knew very little about +college custom and all that, because he had been a college man less than +twenty-four hours and the tray of his trunk was still unpacked. + +It was Wednesday afternoon, the first day of the term, and he was on his +way to chapel to attend the opening exercises of the college year, the +first real college duty of his life, and he had almost reached the +quadrangle when he was interrupted by the Sophomores and the +disagreeable voice which called, "Hi, there, Freshman," at him, and +which he thought he would never forget. + +And now he went on up the stone walk under the tall elms, wiping his +brow and telling himself that he was not homesick, but that he did not +propose to let anybody talk to him that way, even if he was green and +from the country, and he would show them. + +He was from the country, to be sure, but that had nothing to do with it. +He was guyed because he was a Freshman. + + * * * * * + +He was from the country, and he had come here to get a college +education, and he had worked hard to come. He meant to make the best of +his opportunities, and you could see that by the energetic way he strode +through the quadrangle and up the broad path to chapel and took his +place with two hundred others, who also were Freshmen and as green, many +of them, as he was, and trying just as hard not to show it, though he +did not know that. He thought they were upper-classmen and knew ever so +much, and were looking at him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE "BIG, GREEN FRESHMAN FROM SQUEEDUNK" + + +There were very important reasons why this particular Freshman had made +up his mind to do well at college. He had done very well at the High +School out at home, and it was one of the best in all Illinois. But that +was not the reason, nor had he graduated first in his class, indeed; one +of the girls did, as usual, though, to be sure, Young had done outside +studying with the minister and that was a handicap. He had a different +sort of reason for wanting to do well, now he was here at last. + +He could recall, as vividly as though it were yesterday, how his father +looked the time he said: "And I tell you now, once and forever, I ain't +going to spend my hard-earned money making a dude of any son of mine; +and that's all I have to say about it. On the first of next month you're +going to get to work in the bank; and you ought to be glad of it. Few +farmers' sons have such chances." + +Young remembered how sarcastic seemed his father's answer to the +question, "Won't you just lend me the money, father? I'll pay it back +with interest, in time?" + +"Lend you money!--where's your collateral, hey?" and Mr. Young laughed. + +"Then that is your final decision, father?" + +"Final as I can make. If you go to college you pay your _own_ way. +Good-night. I guess that settles it." + +Until this offer of the place in the bank came, just after Will's +graduation from the High School, his father had only said, "What's the +sense of going to college? You can't make any more money by it." And +Will had quietly gone on with his Greek lessons, not doubting that his +father would give his consent in the end. But now it was: "This is too +good a chance to miss, Will--why, you'll soon make a rich man of +yourself. Of course, you must take it. What's the use of having your +father a director of the Farmers' National Bank, any way? You'll soon +get over your fool notions. Charlie hasn't any fool notions about +'higher education.' He's my right-hand man on the farm." And the farm +was one of the most prosperous in the county. + +Will knew his father and said nothing more, and on July 1st took the +place in the bank and began to work at $5 a week. But he did not get +over his fool notions. + +You see, ever since Young could remember, he had dreamed and planned +about going to college, and what is more he had put in a great many +hours of good, solid study with the minister during the past years +preparing himself for it, and in consequence it was often 'way after the +dark by the time he had driven out home and had finished his "chores." +And he did not propose to let all that work count for nothing. He had +made up his mind to get a university education. + +It was out of the question now to study all summer and enter the next +fall, but the minister told him he was still young; he could enter the +following year. + + * * * * * + +"Your boy Will's catching on quicker than Henry Johnson or any of the +young men that ever worked under me yet." That's what the cashier said +to Mr. Young. + +"That means he's getting over his fool notions," thought Mr. Young. +Really it meant that he still had them. Will never mentioned the word +college to his father again; and to those of his old friends who said, +"Oh, so you aren't going East after all: why's that?" he merely replied +in effect that that was _his_ business, and bent over the ledger again. + +He knew that most of the town was talking and laughing about him because +from the time he first announced (with a somewhat superior air, perhaps) +what he intended to do after leaving the High School, more than one of +them thought, and said, that it was a queer idea for Will Young to go to +college when he did not want to be a preacher or a professional man; not +so very many boys went to college from that part of the country. + +But Will did not worry about that very much. He did not have time. He +was working every day in the bank from eight o'clock in the morning +until five or six in the evening--until nine or ten at night, sometimes, +on the first of the month--and was besides doing all the chores for Miss +Wilkins, with whom he boarded. And that was not all the work he did, +either. Those who passed by Miss Wilkins's house late at night generally +noticed a light in the little third-story window long after all the +other boarders' rooms were dark. And the nights he was not studying in +his room he was reciting at the minister's. + +It is no easy thing to save money on $5 a week, and pay board and buy +clothes and incidentals out of it besides. That was the reason he did +the chores for Miss Wilkins. He got his board for that, and he earned +it. + +Out of the first month's salary Will saved $10. Fifty per cent of +earnings saved is not a bad proportion. Out of the second month's +earnings he saved $25. + +That may sound impossible, but you see they had raised his salary to $10 +a week as they promised to do as soon as he had made himself worth it. +Besides, Mr. Young was a director. + +It was very slow and sometimes it seemed very discouraging, and he did +not know how he could have succeeded if it had not been for the Sunday +afternoon talks with his mother, who was with him from the start in the +project; and for the minister, who used to say, "You seem to think a +fellow must be a millionaire to go to college." + +The minister had a frank, friendly unstilted manner of talking, that +made some of the older people shake their heads and think him +unclerical. + +"Why, there are hundreds of fellows," the minister said, "paying their +own way through every year, and if you can't do it I'm mistaken in you. +That is one reason," the minister explained, "though not the most +important one, why I advised you to go to a large college. There are so +many more ways of earning money. There are more eating-clubs to be +managed (and all the manager has to do is collect a tableful of +congenial fellows and then he gets his own board free). There are more +men that want tutoring at a large institution, and the price of tutoring +is better, too--(a man in my class in the seminary used to get $3 an +hour); and there are more newspapers to correspond for and shoe-stores +and steam-laundries and railroads to act as agents for--why, there are +any number of ways to earn money if you only look out for them. And, as +I told you before, the college authorities will remit your tuition if +you show that it is necessary and if," said the minister, smiling, "if +you can give testimonials of high moral character. All you have to do +this year is to make enough to get started on, and that's what you are +rapidly doing." + + * * * * * + +One day after Will Young had been working in the bank for nearly a year +his father burst into the kitchen. "Mother," he shouted to his wife, +almost excitedly, "what do you think? Will is going to resign from the +bank! I just now heard it in town." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Young, gently, "I know." + +"What does he mean by it! He has had his salary raised twice inside of a +year. He'll be made assistant cashier soon. Why, the boy's a fool. Does +he expect to get a better place up in Chicago?" + +"No," said Mrs. Young. "He only went to Chicago on his vacation to take +his examinations for college and----" + +"For college! Chicago!" + +"And to buy his clothes--yes, they hold the examinations all over the +country." Then she went on, "You remember, father, you said Will could +go if he earned his own money, and now----" + +"When did I say that?" thundered Mr. Young; and then the storm broke. It +was rather severe while it lasted, but it did not last as long as she +had feared it would. Mr. Young was just, and he had to acknowledge, +inwardly, that Will was right from his standpoint, though it was a sore +disappointment: and he saw no reason why Will should be forgiven. + +"We'll see how long you stay there," was what Mr. Young said in bidding +Will good-by. He knew about how much his son had been able to save. + +"All right, sir," said Will, feeling sorry his father would not give his +approval even now. "Good-by, sir." And he glanced at his mother once +more and then looked away again, and the train pulled out. A moment +later he had a last, distant view of the straight white farmhouse, as +the cars dashed by, and of the big red barn with white trimmings, and +the wind-brake of tall, straight poplars, to the north, in even row, +planted by his father's own hand before Will was born; he saw their tops +waving in the breeze as they were cut off from view--and all that seemed +years and years ago, though, in reality, it was only Monday, the day +before yesterday, and here he was at last, actually at college and +sitting in chapel listening to the President's kind words of welcome; +and feeling somewhat important at being one of those particularly +addressed by such a famous and learned man and feeling very proud at the +thought that he was part of such an ancient and mighty seat of +learning--and hoping that the small account he had opened at the +Princeton Bank was going to tide him over till an opportunity for +earning money turned up. + +As he and his many classmates trooped forth into the sunny outdoors +again some orange-and-black-bedecked Sophomores on the steps murmured, +"right, left, right, left," in time to their footsteps, and then Will +Young did not feel so proud and important. + +But this big, green Freshman did not take off his hat to them as some of +his classmates did. In fact his hat did not come off until the evening +of the following day--and then not quite in the way you might expect. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE GREAT SOPHOMORE-FRESHMAN RUSH + + +Freshman Young had an experience on the second night of his college +course that he was never to forget. And few of those who shared it with +him forgot it, and not many of the hundreds of other men that have been +in college before and since have forgotten similar experiences of their +own on the second or third night of college existence. Not one of them +would care to miss it if he had it to do over again. + +He was in his room going over for the fifth time the Latin passages in +Livy, Book I. The recitation came the first thing in the morning. That +meant at half-past eight, immediately after chapel. + +His room was on the third story, back, of a queer, old-fashioned house +in a still queerer, old, crooked street called Canal Street, because, +he supposed, it led down to the canal. The little room seemed quite bare +and cheerless, but he did not mind that. He had got down to work as a +"college man." + +That day, for the first time, he had met his professors in the classroom +along with the other Freshmen of his division. He was the last man of +the last division, because his last name began with Y. Later on in the +term, when they were to be divided according to rank, he would not be in +the last division; he had made up his mind to that. So he was going over +the Livy lesson for the fifth time, although he had worked it all out +during the afternoon. + +Perhaps there was another reason for keeping his mind so busy. The old +white farmhouse with the well-trimmed lawn and the evergreen trees in +front and the tall, straight wind-pump to the west, and beyond that the +long, level sweeps of rich prairie acres, all seemed very far away +to-night. "I'm not homesick--of course not," he told himself, but all +the same he thought he could study better if he could hear the old +wind-pump go "kitty-chunk, kitty-chunk," as when he was studying his +High School lessons on windy winter nights, long ago; so long that it +all seemed like a different existence. + +It was because he was thinking very hard about that previous existence +that he started so when he suddenly heard a sound--away off in the +distance. It was in the direction of the campus. It was someone singing. +It was nothing to get excited over; men in the upper classes were all +the time going around in groups lazily singing, laughing and talking, +and looking as if they never thought of their studies. So he turned over +the leaves of his book again. But after awhile this singing came nearer +and nearer. + +There were many voices, all singing in concert, if not all in tune, but +Young did not notice that fault, for just then the singing stopped--the +quick, short college cheer cut through the air, and on the end of the +cheer the Freshman class numerals--_his_ class numerals. He waited a +moment to make sure. Then it came again: + +"Ray! Ray! Ray! Tiger! Siss-boom-ah! Ninety-blank!" + +Then another one, a "long cheer" this time--the same as the other except +that the Siss, the Boom, and the Ah were prolonged impressively: "Ray! +Ray! Ray! Tiger--sisses! Boom-m! Ah-h-h--Ninety-blank!" + +Now, it gives a freshman a peculiar thrill the first time he hears many +voices shouting in concert for his class. Young's heart began to thump. +"That's my class," he said to himself, and then he turned to his books +again because he had not come to college to have a good time, but to +study. But he sighed a little. + +Now the voices began singing to the tune of "Balm of Gilead": + +"Here's to Ninety--blank--Drink her down--drink her down-- + + "Here's to Ninety-blank-- + Drink her down--drink her down, + Here's to Ninety-blank-- + For she's always----" + +something that rhymed with the other part of Ninety. + +Young put down his book for a minute. + +They were coming still nearer. + +He could hear some of the individual voices now. + +Up Dickinson Street they came. + +They turned the corner at Canal Street. + +Now they halted. + +Then a shrill voice shouted, "Now then, altogether, fellows, Hip! hip!" + +"Ninety-blank! this! way!!" the many shouted in unison. It made a great +noise. + +Young opened his window. + +"Once more," cried the shrill voice. + +The call was repeated. + +Young stuck his head out. + +"Now then, fellows, a good rousing cheer for the honor of your class. +Let everybody talk. Hip, hip!" + +And the cheer fairly shook the house. + +"Now then," commanded the clear, shrill voice, "Ninety-blank this way +again once more--Hip, hip!" + +Young drew his head in from the window and the next minute he was +running downstairs three steps at a time. He could not help it. + +Two other Freshmen joined him from neighboring houses on the way to the +corner. + +There, with the street light glaring dimly upon them, stood the Freshman +class, or most of it, closely drawn up four abreast, cheering for itself +with all its might. The Juniors were leading the cheers with energetic +waving of the arms; other Juniors were marshalling the forces. + +Young and his two unknown companions began to run as they drew nearer, +and those in the rear ranks hearing their footsteps gave a yell of +welcome. It sounded like a prolonged "Yea-a-a." + +The three new-comers modestly fell in at the rear. A quick-stepping +nervous Junior came down the line looking each row over as he came +along. He wore glasses, Young noticed, and a faded orange-and-black +blazer. + +"Here, you big fellow, you'll do to go in front," he said, in a voice +husky from cheering, and with that Young was taken by the arm, led way +up to one of the front rows, shoved in beside three other fellows, and +the Junior said, "Now, Tommy, that row's complete." + +The Freshman next to Young grabbed him by the coat-sleeve and locked an +arm through his as if they had been comrades for four years instead of +just about to be. + +He had on a soiled canvas football jacket and was hatless. His hair was +long. "How much do you weigh, old man?" he asked in an excited manner. +There was a lull in the cheering; everyone seemed to be whispering and +chatting nervously; some of those in the rear were laughing at what one +of the Juniors was telling them. + +"About one hundred and eighty-five pounds," said Young to his neighbor +wondering who he was and what kind of a fellow. + +"Good! I weigh a hundred and seventy-nine and a half, stripped, just +now--go up, though, after training awhile. You play football, I +suppose?" + +Young had never seen real football played, but he did not like to say +so--and he did not have to, for just then another cheer was demanded and +they both joined in with the rest of the class, shouting with all their +might, and then the command to march was given, and the line started +forward, irregularly at first and with much treading upon heels, until +one of the Juniors shouted, "Spread out, fellows, spread out; you'll +have" (laughing) "all the close rank work you want when you get on the +campus," and then someone put them in step by saying, "Hep!... Hep!... +Hep!" And when the column was in step, a Junior in the rear who had a +high tenor voice started up the famous marching time of + + "Hoorah! Hoorah! + The flag that set us free. + Hoorah! Hoorah! + The year of jubilee." + +only the words they used were: + + "Nassau! Nassau! + Ring out the chorus free-- + Nassau! Nassau! + Thy jolly sons are we. + Care shall be forgotten, all our sorrows flung away, + While we are marching through Princeton!" + +"Oh, we'll do 'em!" remarked Young's comrade, excitedly, at the +conclusion of the song. + +Young wanted to say something in reply, but he did not know who "they" +were or how they were to be done. So he only said, "Think so?" + +"Dead easy--we outnumber them three to two." + +Soon the main street, Nassau Street, was reached; and by that time, +after much cheering and many "This ways," nearly two hundred Freshmen +were in the ranks and shouting like good fellows. + +The line turned down toward the main college gate. + +Along both sides of the streets walked a crowd of onlookers: +upper-classmen in flannel clothes seeming mildly interested in what was +to them an old story; little town boys in short trousers shouting "Ray +for de Freshmans!" and looking forward with excitement to what was +never an old story to them. The shopkeepers were standing in their doors +to see them pass. Upstairs windows opened and heads stuck out. + +In a pause between the verses of a song Young heard, far off in the +distance, the quick eager: "Ray! Ray! Ray! Tiger, siss, boom, ah!" of +the short cheer. It was much more sharply and crisply given than the +cheers he had joined in, and on the end of it came the numerals of the +Sophomore class. + +Now, he had understood vaguely that there was to be some sort of contest +between his class and the Sophomores, but this blatant, confident cheer +away off somewhere in the distant, indefinite darkness, gave him a +start; just for a moment he felt frightened. He was not the only one. + +"Oh, we'll do 'em," said the man next to Young. + +"Dead easy!" said Young, this time. + +They had passed the first gate by the Dean's house and were marching in +good order down the broad old street. + +"Column right--wheel!" said the Junior in front, and they turned in at +the carriage entrance. + +Before he quite realized it Young found himself walking on the soft, +green turf of the campus itself. + +The singing had ceased. The talking stopped now. Nothing could be heard +but the "tr'm, tr'm, tr'm," of many feet taking many steps at the same +instant. + +"Halt!" said one of the Juniors in a whisper. "Form close ranks--lock +step." The long line began to concentrate. + +Another of the Juniors went down the line saying, in a low voice, "Put +your caps in your pockets, fellows--put your caps in your pockets, +fellows." Many of them had already done so. Some only pulled theirs on +tighter. + +"Are you ready back there, Tommy?" asked one of the Juniors. + +"Yes, Jack." + +The man hugging Young's arm whispered, "That's Jack Stehman, the great +tackle." + +"Oh," said Young, looking admiringly at the powerful-looking football +hero. + +"Now then, fellows," Stehman was saying to the Freshmen, "the Sophomores +are lined up and waiting for you over by West College; one of our men +has just come from there. You fellows are nearly fifty men stronger than +they are. Stick together and you'll rush them dead easy." + +At this four or five excited Freshmen started a faint cheer but it was +crushed down by several vigorous "sishes!" "Keep your mouths shut," said +one of the other Juniors. + +"Now, follow me and, mind, _stick together_, what_ever_ you do. Stick +together!" This was big Jack Stehman again. Young admired him; hoped to +become well acquainted with him some day. + +The compact mass moved forward, their bodies close together and their +legs and feet beneath taking quick short steps as best they could. It +was like a huge dark centipede, except that centipedes probably do not +step on so many of their heels at once. + +On either side walked upper-classmen, some calmly smoking pipes as if +there was nothing to be excited about, laughing lightly and making +remarks. The way they looked at Young and his companions reminded him of +his father and the other farmers judging live stock at the county fair. + +"Pretty good looking Freshman class, Harry," said one fellow whose face +Young couldn't see in the dark. + +"Um," said the one addressed, nodding. "There's a fellow, looks----" +Young lost the rest of it. + +Up the gravel driveway the black mass crept toward the opening between +the dark Library and darker Dickinson Hall. + +Young was grabbing tight hold of the Freshman in front of him and +wondering what would come next. + +They were just through the opening and were about to turn toward the +quadrangle. Suddenly there was a rumbling sound, like distant thunder. + +Then shouted Jack Stehman, the big Junior: "Here they come! here they +come. Now then keep together, fellows, keep together, keep +together--come at 'em _hard_!" + +Now the many feet of the Freshman column began to rumble. On they +plunged, increasing their speed every second. + +The spectators on either side sprang back. On came the Sophomores with +still more momentum, showing a front row of hardened football men with +football suits. A distant light shone on them and Young had a vivid +glimpse of their determined faces. + +Then, with the Juniors crying, "Come faster! come faster! stick +together!" and the Seniors who coached the Sophomores shouting, "Rush +'em, rush 'em, rush 'em!" the two lines came together. + +Young was conscious of a dull crunching "thrump." It sounded as if bones +were breaking, though none was. Then he saw the two rows in front of him +lifted up in mid-air. The front rows of Sophomores were squeezed up +also. It was like colliding trains of cars. Young could see them up +there struggling, could hear them straining and grunting and pushing and +shouting while the distant light gleamed on their dishevelled hair. + +"Now! now! that's the way--now we're getting them!" one of the Juniors +was shrieking. + +"That's the way!" yelled another. + +"Stick together!" roared Stehman, jumping in and shoving mightily +himself. He seemed as strong and as regardless of his body as a mad +bull, and yet he was as calm as a man loading hay. + +"Rush 'em off the campus! Rush the Freshmen!" shouted the Seniors now +becoming alarmed. + +"Yea-a-! we're doing 'em," panted the well-built man beside Young. +"Shove! shove! shove!" + +Young was straining and shoving with his teeth set and he felt as if his +ribs would soon break. But he had the exultant joy of victory. His feet +were off the ground and he was being carried along by the force of those +behind him. + +The Sophomores had tried to take them by surprise before they got up the +grade by the Library. If they had been successful they would have made +short work of the Freshmen. As it was they had more momentum, but in +hurrying across the campus to accomplish their design their lines had +become loose. The Freshmen, on the other hand, were solid through and +through, and now the compact mass in the rear was beginning to tell. The +Freshmen were shoving the Sophomores back. Young heard shouts of +victory. + +But at this point the usual and natural result took place. The lines +were too long for their width, and so it was only for a moment that they +kept straight head to head; the pushing from behind bent them and they +doubled in upon themselves. The Freshmen 'way back there in the rear +thinking the Sophomores had retreated rushed on hard, shouting for their +class and their victory, while at the same time part of the Sophomores +did the same thing on the other side. And so sections of each column +passed each other shouting, "Rush 'em!" and the rest turned around on +each other and got hopelessly mixed up and excited. In this mix there +was much shouting and considerable cap-grabbing and some rough work. +And the confused, disorganized Freshmen did not know just what was going +on until a sudden cry went up, "Look out! look out! Here they come +again." + +"Get in line--for Heaven's sake," hurriedly shouted a Junior, and "This +way," roared big Stehman, "_this_ way, I tell you, you fools!" + +But it was too late. The rumbling was heard again, and from an +unexpected direction, and before the huddling Freshmen could even get +started, a compact mass of Sophomores came pounding down upon them, +ploughed through them, knocked some of them over and came out solid on +the other side. + +Then there was great shouting among the Sophomores, with much blatant, +exultant cheering. + +Meanwhile the rallying cry of "Ninety-blank this way!" began ringing out +again. It was over by the quadrangle and now the scattered Freshmen were +scurrying over toward the sound of it. + +"Ninety-blank?" shouted a boyish voice in Young's ear not two feet away +from it. + +"Yes," said Young, excitedly, and took the owner of it by the arm and +hurried along through the crowd toward their comrades. + +Just then an unseen hand made a grab at Young's hat--off it went; and +the grabber dodged out of sight in the crowd and darkness. + +"There goes my hat," said Young. + +"Mine went long ago," said his new-found comrade, meaning ten seconds +before. He was a little fellow and seemed very young. "We oughtn't to +have taken them out of our pockets." He was laughing excitedly as he ran +along. + +They hurried into line with the others by West College. + +A Junior dressed in a conspicuous white flannel suit came running over, +shouting, "The Sophs are just beginning to form over there by the +cannon. Hurry and you can get them on the flank." + +"All right," cried Jack Stehman, "come on, fellows. Never mind weights +and sizes. Now do something, do something for your class." + +"Come on," called another, "this time we get the cannon!" + +Without waiting for all the class to collect, or for perfect formation, +the Freshman column dashed down at the thick of the Sophomores who now +stopped giving "This-way" shouts and started forward to meet their +opponents. They knew that to be caught napping meant to be rushed, and +then the Freshmen would gain the coveted cannon. + +Again the two columns met like two big waves, and like spray the front +lines were dashed on high. Young was up there this time, literally face +to face with the Sophomores. He could see them straining and grunting +and pushing like himself. The little fellow that had fallen in rank +beside him was up there too, being tossed about like a cork. + +The Sophomores were only half prepared for the attack, and were being +charged back; Young felt them giving way before him. It felt good. + +"Hold them, hold them, fellows!" shouted the Seniors, and some of them +pitched in to help their allies, the Sophomores. + +But they could not hold them, and the little fellow beside Young began +screaming, "We're rushing 'em! we're rushing the Sophs," in the +Sophomores' very faces. + +A big Sophomore in the front rank got one arm free, reached up and +struck the little fellow in the face, then got hold of his coat and +began to jerk the little one down. + +Young reached over, grabbed the big Sophomore's wrist and freed his +little classmate. "Hi! Deacon!" cried a disagreeable voice somewhere in +the rows of Sophomores before him. Young was devoting all his energy to +the little fellow whose nose was now bleeding; this did not seem to +bother the latter, for he wriggled around, nimbly clambered up on +Young's big shoulders, then kneeling on them and having free play for +his arms he began to strike right and left at the Sophomores beneath him +as fast as he could, and he seemed to be able to strike both fast and +hard. + +Seeing his pluck those behind him now plunged forward harder than ever. + +"Yea-a-a--the cannon--the cannon, we've got it!" cried the little +fellow. + +Young felt himself brushing up against something hard and solid. Sure +enough it was the big iron breech of the old cannon that he had seen +standing muzzle down, in the centre of the quadrangle. + +The little fellow jumped down from Young's shoulders upon it, and began +to lead a cheer, though he did not know how to do it very well. But he +waved his hands about his head and everyone yelled exultingly. They had +won. + +Then Jack Stehman, the Junior coach, hustled the little one off, jumped +up on the cannon himself and led a cheer in the right way. The little +fellow was out of sight now, but not out of memory. He was a hero. + +Meanwhile some of the other Sophomores had zealously rushed some of the +other Freshmen off the quadrangle and were shouting themselves hoarse +for _their_ victory down by Clio Hall, but the Freshmen had the cannon. +That was what they were after all this time, as Young now learned. + +"It's all over now. Go home, you fellows," said the hoarse-voiced +Juniors, silencing the exuberant Freshmen. + +"We rushed them, though, didn't we?" eagerly asked a Freshman with +necktie gone and coat torn half off. Young saw it was his small comrade. + +"'Course you did," said Jack Stehman, his voice sounding gruff and +authoritative. "Go to your rooms as fast as you can; Sophs'll haze tar +out of you if they catch you to-night. They expected to have an easy +thing of it." + +The little fellow had spied Young. "Good-night," he said, holding out +his hand, "much obliged for what you did. My name's Lee." + +"Young is my name." They shook hands. "Hope you aren't hurt," Young +added, smiling. + +"Nope; see you again. Good-night." + +The Freshmen now began to scatter in all directions in the darkness, +some of them limping and some of them going slowly because out of +breath; and some had fewer garments than when they left their rooms. But +all had a great deal more class spirit, and that is the object of the +cannon rush. There was not one among them who would have missed it for +anything. + +Young reached his room without adventure. He limped a little as he went +upstairs, but he did not know it. + +He had been in his room but a few moments when a knock came at the door. +He had had no callers before this. + +"Come in," said Young, cheerfully. He thought perhaps it was Lee. + +[Illustration: AFTER THE RUSH. +In walked ... the little Sophomore, and behind him a very big Sophomore. +Young recognized him as the one....] + +In walked Channing, the little Sophomore, and behind him a very big +Sophomore, dressed in a football suit. Young recognized him as the one +that struck little Lee, and he seemed to recognize Young; at least he +grinned and showed the place where a front tooth was gone. + +And Channing wore Young's hat. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WELCOME AND UNWELCOME VISITORS + + +Suppose you were a Freshman and hazing were still in vogue, and the +first callers in your college course were two Sophomores, and each of +them had reasons for wanting to humiliate you, and one of the fellows +was a football player with muscles larger than your own; how would you +feel if they strode into your room, looking arrogant? + +You, possibly, might not mind it. If so, Will Young was different from +you, for he felt very queer as he arose from his chair. + +Channing said, "How do you do, Mr. Young?" Then, closing the door so the +landlady might not hear, "Well, Deacon," with his sarcastic smile, +"we've come for you." + +Young said nothing. Instinctively he offered chairs. + +"This is Deacon Young of Squeedunk, the freshest man in the class, +Bally. Bow, Freshman, to Mr. Ballard, of whom you have doubtless +heard--the famous centre rush of the famous Sophomore football eleven +that will do your futile Freshman team up so badly you can't see, later +in the term." + +"No, thanks," said the big fellow to Young, in a very big voice, "never +sit on chairs." He had seated himself on Young's table, with one foot on +a chair, and was looking around the room as Channing went on: + +"We secured several of your charming classmates on the campus. They +aren't far away from here now." Ballard chuckled at this. "But we missed +you on the campus, Deacon. You must have run home after the rush." + +The Sophomores both laughed at this, but Young said nothing, and +wondered how Channing had found out where he roomed. + +"You have given us some trouble. That is unfortunate for you. But you +were kind enough yesterday to oblige me with your name; so I went to the +registrar's office and asked where my dear old friend Willie Young +roomed. I told them I wanted to look you up and take care of you. We'll +take care of you, all right--eh, Bally?" + +Ballard laughed his loud laugh at this way of talking. He thought +Channing very witty, and so did Channing. + +Young was leaning against the mantelpiece. + +"But we mustn't waste time here," Channing went on; "pick up your hat +and come on like a good little boy; we're all going for a nice little +stroll to the canal together." + +Young had heard, since he last saw Channing, what the Sophomores did +with Freshmen at the canal. He did not move. + +"Oh, I forgot," said Channing, "you have no hat; you lost yours in the +rush this evening, didn't you? Well, well, that was too bad. You will +have to go bareheaded. However, Freshman," he added, patronizingly +stern, "this will teach you a good lesson--two good lessons. In the +first place, little Willie must wear a cap and not a big felt hat like +this." He took Young's hat off his own head and looked at it +critically. "I suppose this is the latest thing out at Squeedunkville." + +Ballard grinned. Young flushed and bit his lip. + +"In the second place, you must always take it off when you meet your +superiors and thus save us the trouble of taking it off for you; and," +he added, looking out of the window in the direction of the canal, "and +so save yourself some trouble also." + +Ballard was now beginning to look interested. "I guess the Freshman's +got another hat in his closet," he said, gruffly. Then he commanded, "Go +get it, Freshman, and come on." Ballard was standing now. + +Young did have a hat--a derby hat, the one he wore on the train and when +he first arrived--in his closet, but he did not go and get it, and he +did not come on. + +"Didn't you hear what I said?" growled Ballard. "Come on." He let +Channing do the guying, but he liked to take a hand in the bossing +himself. + +Apparently Young heard nothing; he had not said a word, and he was +quietly looking down at the carpet, but his heart was beating fast. + +"Now, see here, Deacon," said Channing, "we don't want to have any +trouble with you. Are you going to come along peacefully and have an +easy time of it, or are you going to make a little trouble for us and a +lot for yourself?" + +Young did not speak or look up. He seemed to be moving his tongue about +in his cheek. + +Ballard approached him. "You won't come, eh?" he said, angrily. And with +that he took him by the shoulder. + +"Take your hands off me," said the Freshman, shrilly, and wrenched +quickly away, backing up against the wall. He stood there breathing +hard, and he glanced from one Sophomore to the other. + +Now, it is not the easiest thing in the world for a big man and a little +man to drag out of a room one very good-sized man who looks as if he had +made up his mind to stay in it. At any rate, to do it without +considerable noise is impossible. Therefore Channing stepped across to +the open window, stuck his head out, and gave a long, peculiar whistle. +He waited a moment and then repeated it Then an answer came back from +the distance. + +"We'll soon fix _you_, Deacon," he remarked, nodding his head, as he +returned from the window. + +Young was still standing backed up against the wall. Ballard, braced +against the door opposite to prevent the Freshman's escape, was +scowling. + +"They'll be here in a minute," said Channing. + +He referred to the classmates he had signalled to. You see if they had +all come in together it would have aroused the landlady's suspicions. As +it was, Channing had been obliged to tell her that Ballard and himself +represented the college Y. M. C. A., and that they wanted to ask Mr. +Young to join it. + +"When they whistle I'll tip-toe down and let them in," said Channing. +"Listen! What's that?" + +Footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. + +"They couldn't have gotten here so soon," said Ballard. + +"I didn't hear any whistle," said Channing. + +The footsteps came nearer. + +"Is this the room?" said a voice just outside the door. + +"Yes, that's the one," came the reassuring tones of the landlady below. + +The Sophomores had stopped talking. + +A knock. + +No reply. + +Another knock. + +"Come in," said Young, defiantly. + +Ballard stepped to one side. + +The door opened. + +"Is this Mr. Young?" + +"That's my name," said Young. "Come in." He was still standing by the +mantelpiece. + +A dark-eyed, strong-faced, matured-looking man with rather long hair +stood in the doorway. "I am Nolan," he said, "of the Junior class, and +this is Mr. Linton," turning to a man behind him. + +"Hello there, Ballard," Nolan said, casually then suddenly taking in the +situation and smiling, "sorry to spoil your fun," he said. "Hello, +where's your young friend going in such a hurry?" + +Channing was seen slipping out of the still open door. "I'll be right +back," he said, grinning. The whistle had sounded while Nolan and Linton +were entering the room, and Channing wanted to get down in time to--but +it was too late. The Juniors had left the front door open when they +entered, and now the other Sophomores were on the way up the second +flight of stairs. "Where's the Freshman's room, Chan?" they said, in a +loud whisper. + +"Wait, there's no use coming now," began Channing. + +But Linton was now at the head of the stairs saying, in an amused tone: +"Oh, come right up; don't mind us." So, rather than seem afraid of the +Juniors they trooped in, all six of them looking as if caught at +something they were ashamed of. + +Linton smiled drolly at one of the Sophomores he happened to know +personally. "Hard luck, Valentine," he said. + +Nolan nodded gravely to one or two of them, and they said, "How do you +do?" very respectfully. + +No one said anything else for a moment. + +"Don't let us interrupt you," said Channing, grinning. + +"We had no intention of being interrupted," said Linton, without looking +up. And Freshman Young noticed that the others seemed to consider this a +good joke on Channing, and Channing noticed that Young noticed it, and +this was one thing more to remember against Young. + +"By the way," Linton went on in a lazy, matter-of-fact way, as he began +filling a pipe, "perhaps it would be just as well if you fellows all got +up and got out of here now. Billy and I came here to talk hall to this +Freshman, and we have a number of others to call on, and Billy mustn't +stay up late these days, you know." + +"Billy" meant Nolan, the one with long hair, and he was a university +football man, and the training season had begun. + +Linton made this remark in an ordinary tone, as if it were the most +natural thing in the world to request seven or eight men to leave a +room. He struck a match for his pipe as he finished speaking, and then +lifted his feet up on the table and leaned back without looking at the +under-classmen. + +The Sophomores said, "All right," meekly arose, murmured, "Good-night," +and smiling rather sheepishly departed. + +Young looked on with mingled feelings. They outnumbered the Juniors +seven to two, and yet the arrogant Sophomores did not even question the +Junior's power. He was learning something about these traditions and +customs; evidently the authority was not in bodily strength. + +But the two upper-classmen, without waiting to see what became of the +Sophomores, began forthwith to tell Young how different were the two +secret literary societies, whose mysterious, Greek temples looked so +much alike there side by side on the campus, and to point out how +superior was their own "hall," as they called it. + +Nolan, who was a famous orator in this hall, did most of the talking. +Linton only put in a word now and then, but he kept glancing at the +Freshman in a queer, quizzical way as he blew smoke. When they arose to +go Linton said, in a pleasant tone: + +"I suppose the Sophomores are bothering you a good deal?" + +Young wondered what made Linton say so. "No," he replied; "they tried to +make me take off my hat yesterday, but I wouldn't do it." + +He thought that would impress these upper-classmen. + +Linton glanced at Nolan, who smiled. + +"Say, Young," said Linton, kindly, "of course it's none of my business, +but--well, I'd take off my hat if I were you." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, well, because you're a Freshman." + +"But what right have they to make me take off my hat to them? They +aren't any better than----" + +"Because they're Sophomores. Come on, Billy." He opened the door. "You +think it over, Young. Good-night. Glad to have met you, Young." + +Then on his way downstairs he added to his friend Billy Nolan, "I like +that big, green Freshman, but he needs hazing." + +"He _is_ rather fresh. Do you think we'll secure him, Jim?" + +"But you can hardly blame him for taking himself so seriously," Linton +went on as they gained the street "You see he has always lived at home, +didn't go away to prep. school, was never guyed or anything of that sort +in all his innocent life, and he doesn't know how to take it. He was an +important person at home--probably led his class at the High School--has +a lot of little brothers and sisters that bow down to him; and they've +told him that he is a great man so often that he thinks there must be +something in it. His hands show he has worked on a farm, but the palms +are soft now--I noticed that shaking hands--so he's probably clerked in +a store or taught school; yes, he's probably taught school." + +Linton considered himself a student of human nature, and he did guess +pretty well this time, though Young had no sisters and had never taught +school. + +"Anyway," he concluded, and in this he was right, perhaps, "college will +be a great thing for him. No one ever made him realize his relative +unimportance in the world." + +"As we made big Bally realize it last year," interposed Nolan, smiling. + +"Yes, and as we, too, were made to realize it the year before. My, what +a big chump you'd have been, Billy, if you hadn't been hazed." + +"And, oh, what a supercilious ass you'd have made, Jim. Do you remember +that time----" + +And these two walked on toward the campus with arms thrown carelessly +about each others' shoulders, reminiscencing about days which, to hear +them talk, you would have thought were half a generation ago; and so +they were--half a college generation. + +Meanwhile Young was doing what Linton had told him to do, thinking over +what had been said to him. Also he thought over what he had observed +when the Juniors and Sophomores were in the room together, and he came +to certain conclusions. Then he went to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HAZING + + +The very next evening, as Young and a classmate named Barrows were on +the way from supper, someone stepped out from behind a tree-box and +said, "Here he is, fellows," and the next moment the two Freshmen, +surrounded by a dozen Sophomores, were on their way to the canal. + +Channing acted as ringmaster, as usual. To his surprise and, perhaps, +disappointment, Young was not sullen or stubborn; he seemed rather +good-natured about it. + +"Take off your hat, Deacon." + +"All right," said Young, smiling cheerfully, and lifted his hat. + +"Do it again and don't smile." + +He did it again and did not smile. + +"Who said you could put it back on your head? Take it off and keep it +off." + +Young held it in his hand. + +"Put it on again," shouted Channing. And so it went. + +"Now, Deacon, since you have taken off your cap and have shown how low +you can bow, show us how the prairie-dogs run, out home on the farm." +The group was getting beyond the houses now. + +"But there aren't any prairie-dogs where I live in Illinois," returned +Young, smiling. + +"That doesn't matter," growled Ballard; "do it anyway." + +So William Young, thinking of how the people out home were in awe of him +because he had gone East to college, got down on all fours and ambled +along the dusty road. + +"Now you do it, you little Freshman with the big head." + +Barrows gave his version of a prairie-dog's method of progress, laughing +as if it were a good joke. + +"Now both do it at once," said Channing. + +The Sophomores laughed gleefully, especially at Young, he was so big and +awkward. + +[Illustration: HAZING. +"Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile."] + +"That's pretty good," said Channing, as if he were the exhibitor of +trained animals. "Now both sit up on your haunches and chatter awhile." + +Everybody laughed, Young included. + +"Don't laugh," said Channing. + +"Cork up your laughter," said Ballard. + +Then they were made to crow like roosters and bark like dogs, and give +other imitations, until they reached the tow-path of the canal. Here +they were made to strip. + +"Can you swim?" one of the fellows asked. + +Both said they could. + +"Then jump in and swim across. Be quick about it." + +The water was cool, but it did not hurt them. + +"Now swim back and get your clothes." + +While dressing they were made to sing "Home, Sweet Home"--"in order to +keep warm," Channing said. + +"Now cheer for the illustrious class above you. Are you +ready?--Hip--Hip!" + +The college cheer was given with the Sophomore class numerals on the +end. + +"I don't think I heard your sweet voice, Deacon Young," said one of the +Sophs, a tall fellow with glasses. "Suppose you give us one all alone. +Now then, Hip--Hip!" + +Young kept silent. + +"See here, you cheer, Deacon. Do as we tell you." This from Ballard, who +bellowed. + +Young looked around at the Sophomores--there were twelve of them--and +then glanced at the canal; he did not want to go in there again; he was +shivering already. + +"Hip--Hip!" said Ballard. Young gave a feeble cheer. + +The man with the glasses said: "H'm, you'll have to do better than that. +Now then, a loud one." + +Young cleared his throat and gave a loud, full cheer. + +"That's the way to talk," they said, encouragingly. + +"It won't hurt you, you see," said one of them, rather kindly, in a low +voice. + +"You are improving, Deacon Young," said Channing, patronizingly. "We'll +make a man of you yet." + +Thus began a new epoch in the life of William Young. During the next +week or so of his college course he was hazed perhaps more than anyone +in his class, although from that first time he no longer resisted or +tried to maintain his superiority. + +Undoubtedly hazing, as Linton, the Junior, said, was a good thing for +his system, as it is for any young man, but Young certainly did not need +such severe doses nor so many of them. + +Some of the fellows said so the third time he was taken to the canal. +"The old Deacon is all right now," they said; "why d'you give it to him +so hard?" + +But Channing was one of these small men that love to get power over big +men; he loved to haze and he hated to have anyone call him little or +mouthy, and Young had called him both. The next night he and Ballard, +who, as will be seen later, had much of the bully in him, would bring +around a different crowd and Channing would take out his pipe, shake it +at Young and say to the others, "Now this old jay Deacon is innocent +and meek enough to look at, but he is atrociously fresh at bottom--isn't +he, Bally, you old horse?" + +Young said nothing and took his hazing cheerfully and patiently, hoping +they would soon get tired of it. + +"I suppose," he said to himself, as he hurried back to his room to work +until past midnight, in order to make up for lost time. "I suppose I +must be very fresh, or they would not keep it up so long. I did not know +I was so fresh." + +But he told himself that if he were only well liked by his own +classmates as he had expected to be, he would not care what his enemies +thought of him. That he had not sprung into popularity, he decided, was +due to that painful occurrence at his first recitation. It made him +flush to think of it even now. + +It was on the morning after the rush and after the Sophomores had been +turned out of his room. He went in to the Livy recitation for which he +had prepared himself so thoroughly--he went over it four and a half +times, you may remember--and took his seat, feeling strong and +confident, and, "Mr. Young, please to translate," said the professor, +before the class was hardly settled in its seats. + +It was in a low voice. Young was in the back of the room. He was not +dreaming of being called upon first anyway, and he wondered why the +fellow next to him was nudging him with an elbow. Young turned and +looked at him inquiringly. + +"Get up," whispered the man. + +"What for?" whispered Young. + +"Isn't Mr. Young present?" said the professor in a tone loud and clear, +and Young fairly jumped out of his seat, exclaiming, "Yes, marm--yes, +sir, I mean." + +He added it quickly but it was too late. Everyone had heard and everyone +was laughing, and even the professor joined in, though he did not mean +it unkindly, and then they all laughed still more. The walls fairly +echoed with it. Even after the professor had rapped for order and the +laughter had quieted down, someone in the front row tittered and that +set them all off again. A new class is always somewhat hysterical. Some +of those in the front rows turned and stared at him in their laughter. + +It was a natural mistake. This freshman had prepared for college at a +high school, and most of the High School teachers were women. Young +should have joined in the laughter, but he only stood there, scarlet and +serious-looking and wishing he could disappear forever. + +Finally the professor said, kindly, "Now then, Mr. Young." + +But Mr. Young was confused, and though he had been over the passage +until he had it nearly by heart, he now became all tangled up and +excited and finally took his seat dripping with perspiration and wishing +he had never come to college. Instead of being perfect his first college +recitation was a flat failure. But the professor did not count this +failure against him because he saw that the fellow was rattled and +because the next time he came in he made the best recitation of the day. + +But that was not the trouble. The fellows would not forget it and would +not let up on it. "Thank you, marm," they whispered as he arose to +recite, and "Thank you, marm," they shouted to him on the crowded +campus. The Sophomores took it up. It became a second nick-name. + +The worst of it was--in fact the reason of it all was--that he took this +as he did himself and everything else, with entirely too much +self-importance. Instead of laughing or answering back he looked sullen +and sedate when they said, "Thank you, marm," and naturally they said it +then all the more. + +It cut and hurt to have his own classmates--the men with whom he had +stood shoulder to shoulder in the rush and at the class meeting--treat +him thus. If they had known that he was taking it so seriously, they +would have stopped. But they did not know it. How should they? Most +people have to suffer before they learn to be sympathetic. + +So, altogether, with the Sophomores who hazed and the classmates who +guyed, Will Young decided that college life was not all it was cracked +up to be. But you may be sure he did not let this opinion get into the +letters he wrote home. Because he was discouraged was no reason for +making his mother discouraged too. But, oh, it would have helped a lot, +if he had only somebody to talk to about it all. He did not know how to +make friends with the others, and the others did not seem to care to +make friends, thank you, marm, with the sober-faced old Deacon. + +It was all very well for a fellow like Linton to say that something of +this sort was a good thing for a fellow like Young. But Linton was a +Junior, with friends that loved him; and Juniors forget. Besides, +sometimes we get too much of a good thing, and then it becomes a bad +thing. If it had kept on this way Young might have become meek and +backboneless, and such an extreme would be even worse than that of +self-importance. + +But it did not keep on. It all stopped one day quite suddenly. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WORK--PLAY--"PROCS" + + + "PRINCETON, N. J., Sunday. + + "DEAR MOTHER: Yes, the Sophomores _have_ hazed me a good + many times since I first wrote about it, but I do not mind + it much now. Honestly I do not. They mean it all in joke. + You must not worry. I ought not to have told you anything + about it. I am seldom homesick, and am very happy here at + college." + +And so he was. For each hour of discomfort there were many other hours +that were exceedingly comfortable and satisfactory, for he was working +with all his might at what he had always wanted to work--he was getting +a college education. And when all is said and done there is nothing like +hard work and a good digestion to make a fellow happy. That is if the +work is congenial and the food is good; and they were. + +His work was so congenial that his recitations sometimes made the +fellows in the front rows turn and look at him, the same fellows that +had turned and looked at him during that first frightful recitation; but +their faces wore different expressions now. He was getting a reputation +for being one of the "keeners" of his division. + +And as for his food, it was good--and so were the table-mates, for now +that the shyness was rubbing off he was beginning to enjoy meeting and +sitting down at the table with those dozen classmates more than any part +of the day, if only that long, thin fellow who was studying for the +ministry would not say, solemnly, after Young had handed the bread, +"Thank you, marm." However, he did not mind even that quite so much as +at first, because he was learning how to take good-natured chaff now, +and, more than that, to answer it. And that is something one is likely +to be taught at college if he learns nothing else. + +The letter continued: + + "A Junior manages, or runs, our club; that is, he gathered + in us twelve Freshmen during the first day or two of the + term, and brought us to Mrs. Brown's table. I told you how + several club managers asked me to join their clubs the first + day? Most of them were too expensive, though. This boarding + system is a good bargain for the ladies who supply the + tables, for they cannot collect the students themselves, and + a good bargain for the managers, for they get their board + free, and so save the largest item of expense at college." + +Young was finding out that there were, as the minister had told him, a +great many fellows at college who had to consider items of expense +seriously, but he was surprised to find it so hard to tell which ones +did and which did not. + + "Everybody talks as if he were 'dead broke' all the time, + and you would think all were, to look at them. It is not the + thing to dress well here. A student is made fun of if he + tries it. I wear the black cut-away coat only on Sundays, as + I used to, instead of every day, as you thought I should + have to do. I did not have to buy a new hat. I bought a + flannel cap instead, such as all the fellows wear." + +At first Young was rather shocked at the slouchy way these college men +dressed, and he made up his mind that he would not wear corduroy +trousers when he became an upper-classman. But there were not only many +long months, but a very serious problem to go through with, before he +became an upper-classman, or even a Sophomore. However, he had money +enough in the bank to scrape along for awhile; the term was only just +begun, and things might turn up before it ended, and meanwhile he did +not want to think about that, because it always reminded him of his +father's attitude in the matter. "Huh! We'll see how long you stay there +with those dudes." + +A fellow does not like to feel that he is doing something his father +does not approve of, no matter how old or independent he is. Mr. Young +had not once written a line to Will at college, and through Mrs. Young +had only sent the most formal messages. The Freshman concluded that his +father hated him. There came a time when he found how mistaken he was. + + * * * * * + +One day, about a week after college opened--though it seemed to Young +more like seven weeks than seven days, because he had seen and felt so +many new things and, though he was not aware of it perhaps, because he +had developed so much--at any rate, one afternoon just one week from the +time he had first met Channing and his crew, Young heard about another +new thing. This, too, resulted in developing him a good deal. + +It was a Wednesday afternoon, and he was on the way across the +quadrangle after "English," no longer feeling lost or out of place on +the campus, for he knew by this time nearly all its nooks and crannies +and the names of most of the buildings. "There are 225 acres in the +grounds," he had written home to Charlie in another cheerful sounding +letter, "and we have over thirty buildings." And he told with pride +something of the Revolutionary history of Nassau Hall, "the venerable +brown building they called 'Old North,' once the largest building in +this hemisphere and for a time the most important." But that was not the +reason he felt so proud just now. It was because he was walking beside +little "Lucky" Lee. + +[Illustration: THE HERO OF THE BELL-CLAPPER. +Lee was one of the most prominent and popular men in the class.] + +Lee was the class secretary and treasurer, and one of the most prominent +and most popular men in the class. He had sprung into considerable class +prominence when he sprang upon Young's shoulders that night in the rush. +But the next night he climbed still higher and into greater fame by +scaling the belfry of Old North at dead of night, where, with the aid of +Stevens, his room-mate, he carried off the bell-clapper, "and that was a +great thing, I tell you," Young wrote home. + +"Of course, no Freshman class would be respected," Linton, the Junior, +had explained the next time he and Nolan had come to "talk hall" with +Will--who explained it to Charlie--"they'd be disgraced if they didn't +steal the bell-clapper. The college authorities expect it to be done. +They have a barrelful of new ones down in the cellar. When the rope is +pulled and they find the bell doesn't ring, they simply fork out a new +clapper and climb up and fasten it on, and then start in to ringing as +though nothing unusual had happened." + +None the less it was a daring deed, and Lee and Stevens had come within +a small margin of getting caught by stealthy Matt Goldie, the chief +proctor. But they weren't, and the big heavy clapper was now in the city +of Trenton, being melted down into many diminutive souvenir clappers (to +be worn as watch-charms by the whole class) at this very moment, while +Lee was walking across the campus and Young beside him was hoping that +the fellows who called him "Thank you, marm!" could see him now. + +Just then "Minerva" Powelton, the recently chosen captain of the class +baseball team, joined Lee and Young, or rather he joined Lee; he paid +little attention to Young. He had been brought up to keep away from boys +whose family he knew nothing of, and he considered Young beneath him in +every way. He got over it in time. + +"Say, Lucky," he said in a low tone, putting his arm fawningly around +little Lee, "the Sophs will be getting out the procs pretty soon. We'd +better watch out." + +"Naw," said Lucky, with the conviction of superior knowledge. "Not till +after Saturday's game, at the earliest. Why, in my brother's Freshman +year they did not do it till after cane-spree." + +"Well, we'd better keep our eyes peeled, all the same," said Captain +Powelton. + +Young looked sober and said nothing. To tell the truth, he did not know +what they were talking about. Was it that the Sophs were going to turn +the college proctors against them in some cowardly way? But what +Saturday's baseball game between the two classes had to do with it he +knew no more than what a cane-spree might be; and he walked home +wondering. + +That evening at the club one of the fellows--who, perhaps, had also +overheard a conversation--said, in a pause, "I understand the Sophs will +bring out the procs pretty soon." + +Young was not so shy before his own crowd. "No, they won't," said he. +"Not until after Saturday's baseball game." + +"Why not, Young?" he was asked. + +"What are the procs, anyway?" inquired Barrows, at the foot of the +table, who had been Young's champion on the first trip to the canal. He +was a small, ingenuous fellow with a big head, and had taken a prize for +passing the best entrance examinations from his State. + +Young was about to laugh and own up that he did not know, when the +Junior who ran the club cleared his throat and explained. He was fond of +instructing these Freshmen. He had been very green himself two years +before, and he knew how it felt. He also knew how impressive an +upper-classman seems to the entering student. + +"The two lower classes," he said, with a great deal of Junior dignity, +"always get out proclamations on each other. It is one of the customs. +The Sophs generally bring theirs out first; they are like big bill +posters." + +"What's on them?" asked Barrows. + +"On them is printed a lot of nonsense in green type. They cast +aspersions on you, call you fresh and green and heap ignominy on your +prominent men and deride your eccentric characters." + +"Well, where do they put them?" asked the one who brought up the +subject. + +"All over the State." + +"What!" + +"They paste them all over this town and its environs, on the blank walls +and the sidewalks, and on every barn in the county, on wagons, on +telegraph-poles, on freight-cars--not only that, but they go off to +Trenton and New Brunswick and paste them all over the town and on +freight-trains about to pull out." + +"Well! what do we do all this time?" asked Young. Everyone was listening +now. + +"Pull them down," said the Junior, simply, "and soon afterward you get +out a proc saying sarcastic things about _them_, which they pull down, +feeling very indignant, and then they haze you worse than ever. Please +hand me the butter." + +"But I still don't see," said Barrows, the small fellow with the big +head, "what Saturday's baseball game has to do with it?" + +"They wait until after that," replied the Junior, smiling, "in order to +write verses on the score and jeer you on being so badly beaten." + +"Maybe we won't be beaten," said Barrows. + +"I sincerely hope you won't," said the Junior, benignantly. + +The series of inter-class baseball games lasting a week had begun as +usual on the Monday previous. They are played so early in the term +because football soon absorbs all athletic interest of the fall. + +The Freshman class, which was large and had had many aspirants to +athletic honors, had barely had time to pick out its nine, who were, so +said the Junior class baseball captain who was coaching the players, +unusually good material, but quite lacking in team play. This was only +natural, as only three of them had ever seen each other a week before. + +However, they made a very good showing against the Juniors on Tuesday, +and by Thursday they had improved so much that they beat the lazy +Seniors. To tell the truth the latter had not put a very ambitious team +in the field, and played horse throughout the game. But this encouraged +the Freshmen wonderfully, and confidence was just what they needed. +After the practice on Friday afternoon the Junior coach said, "I think +you fellows will win to-morrow--_if_ you don't get rattled," he added, +shaking his head and thinking of his own Freshman year. + +The Sophomore-Freshman game is the concluding match of the week, and is +always the special event of the series, owing to the intense rivalry +between the two lower classes. It is advertised in the bill-posters in +letters twice as large as the other games, and many alumni gather from +New York and Philadelphia to witness it, which makes the two lower +classes feel quite important. + +Great was the excitement in the Freshman class, and great was the hope +of victory. The Sophomores, though they did not show it, were also +excited, but they were blatantly confident of winning. It would be a +terrible disgrace if they lost to the Freshmen. + +Soon after the mid-day meal on Saturday the Freshman class marched down +to University Field in a body, and sat there cheering for itself and +its team all the afternoon. + +Just before the game began the Sophomores, in a solid mass of orange and +black, making a deafening lot of noise with college songs on kazoos, led +by a big brass band, entered the field with banners waving, took +possession of a solid section of the bleachers, derided the Freshmen, +drowned out their cheers, guyed their batters, rattled their pitcher, +and won the game by a score of 18 to 7. That night the country for miles +round was scoured by faithful Freshmen. Not a proclamation was found. + +The next night still a larger number of Freshmen lost half of their +eight hours' sleep in the cause, and in vain. + +The next afternoon Lucky Lee whispered to Young, coming out of +mathematics: "The Sophomores get out their procs to-night, sure; they +are being printed in Trenton--I have a detective down there who found +out all about it. I want you to come up to my room in University Hall +this evening after you have finished your 'poling'--I mean studying. +Wear your old clothes. You'll come, won't you?" + +Young had not been engaged in the previous nightly searches, and he had +not intended to join in this one. But it was Lee. "I'll come," said +Young--"soon's I get through 'poling,'" he added, for he wanted young +Lee to know that he too understood college slang, even though he was a +quiet Freshman. There was something fascinating to Young about that +bright-faced little fellow. Everybody liked him. + +The territory to be covered and the men to cover it had been divided up +beforehand among a number of leaders, and when Lee had said, in talking +it over in Powelton's room, "I'm going to get that man Young, he's a +big, strong fellow," Powelton had said, "What, that big, awkward poler +from the backwoods?--the man everybody guys? Bah! he hasn't any more +class spirit than my pipe." + +Everyone at college is called a student, but a poler is one who studies +to excess. + +"Poler or no poler," answered Lee, "he's got muscle all right, and he +stood by me in the rush in great shape!" + +Promptly at ten o'clock Young slammed shut his Homer and the Greek +lexicon and started for University Hall, a big rambling place full of +noisy, whistling students that scrape their feet along the wide +carpetless corridors. He had done a good evening's work for himself; now +he was going to work for Lee and for the class. + +Some Sophomores at the foot of the third flight of stairs said, "Quack! +quack! Freshmen!" as Young went by, but he did not mind that, and they +did not dare do more because Sam, the night watchman, was downstairs in +the main hall. + +"Wasn't that Deacon Young?" said a man joining the group. "What did you +let him go by for?" + +It was Channing, of course, and he went hurrying upstairs after Young, +to show off how bold he was. + +"Channing certainly has nerve," said one of them. + +By the time Channing caught up, Young had turned down the narrow +corridor which led to Lee's room. + +"You'll have to come back," said Channing, in a matter-of-fact way, +which made it all the more irritating. "Here! I said, 'come back.'" + +Young might have done it ordinarily, but he had promised Lee to come to +his room at ten o'clock and he was accustomed to keep his word; he did +not even look around. + +Channing, catching up with him, laid a hand on his arm, and said, +sneeringly, "Come back, or it'll be worse for you," and called Young a +name that he should have known better than to call anyone unless willing +to fight in consequence. + +For answer Young turned promptly about, grabbed the little Sophomore by +the shoulders, then taking both wrists in one of his strong hands and +shaking the other fist in his face, said, "You little reptile, you're +too small for me to hurt, but I'll give you what I wanted to give you +since I first laid eyes on you." + +With that he quietly picked up the small Sophomore, turned him over his +left knee and gave him a good sound spanking with his big right hand. + +"There," he said, holding Channing upon his knee a moment. "That's what +I think of you. Now run and tell everybody." And he gave him a gentle +push which was not as gentle as he meant it to be. + +Channing got up from the floor hastily, looked about, saw that no one +was near, and then sneaked around the corner in a hurry toward the +stairs. He hadn't said another word. As he drew near his friends he +slackened up and began to whistle carelessly. "Couldn't find him," he +said, "the old cow must have heard me coming, and scooted into some +room." Inwardly he was thanking his stars he had not been seen. + +But he had been seen. The door of one of the rooms along the hall had +been ajar; two upper-classmen within had just put out their lights to go +to bed, the whole scene had been enjoyed, and before Channing was many +days older the whole college was to know the story. + +Meanwhile Young had gone on to Lee's room, where he said nothing about +what had happened. The room was full of Freshmen and when the door +opened they were talking at a great rate about football in loud voices; +but as soon as they saw it was not a Sophomore they began to talk in low +tones about the procs again. + +Lee said, "I don't know whether you know all these fellows," and began +to introduce him in an informal way. + +"Oh, yes, I know Young," said one of them. It was the football man who +had been next to him in the rush. Others said, "I know your face--how +are you, Young?" Some only nodded and then seemed to ignore him. + +He felt a little constraint at first; some of these were prominent +members of the class, and he felt that they had a poor opinion of him, +but presently they all fell to talking about their plans so +earnestly--and included Young in their glances occasionally--that soon +he too began to get excited like the rest of them. He felt the thrill of +a conspirator. + +But they did not talk much longer, for Lee said: "Young and I are going +to bed. You fellows had better sneak off and get some sleep too." He had +already begun to undress. "You are to sleep here, Young," he added; "my +room-mate has gone to Trenton to start out early from there." + +The others were leaving--not all at once, for that would excite +suspicion if any Sophomores might be passing by. They left in ones and +twos. + +"Good-night, Lucky, we'll see you later, good-night." Some of them +remembered to say good-night to Young, too. "Good-night, old man," said +one of them, a jolly fat fellow. + +Young did not sleep very much, but Lucky was quite worn out and dropped +off immediately, and then sprang half out of bed when the muffled alarm +clock went off under his pillow. It was four o'clock. They were to meet +the others at a spot on the Theological Seminary grounds at 4.30. From +there they were to work their way down toward Trenton on the old +stagecoach highway and meet Stevens (Lee's room-mate) and the others +coming up. + +It did not take long to slip out of the room and into the silent +corridor. The lights were all out. It was dead dark. + +"Take hold of my arm," said Lee, "I know these corridors as well as our +own house at home." + +Their footsteps seemed to echo and re-echo as they went down the three +flights of stairs. + +The big clock in the hall ticking loudly showed thirteen minutes after +four. "We have plenty of time," whispered Young, as Lee opened the front +door. + +The outside air was cold and damp; Young shivered as it struck his face. +He was glad he had put on his blue flannel shirt, the one he used to +plough corn in. It was black outside except for a symptom of dawn in the +East, which made the darkness even more ghastly. Someone was walking +somewhere. They could hear the footsteps on the pavement. + +They reached the corner. + +"What's that?" said Young. + +"Where?" exclaimed Lee, in a whisper. He was one of the pluckiest men in +the class, yet he jumped back a little. + +"There," said Young, "on that tree-box. It's a proc." + +"By George, you're right--the sneaks! They must have begun early." + +It was too dark to make out anything but the first three lines in big +letters: + +"ATTENTION! +YE FOUL AND FOOLISH FREAKS +OF FRESHMEN!" + +"It hasn't been up long," said Young. "The paste is still wet." He began +to tear it down. + +"They must be near here," whispered Lee. "We'd better first go and +meet----" + +"Sist! who's that?" said a low voice in the darkness. + +The two Freshmen stood motionless. + +The voice now whispered, "Ninety-blank this way." It sounded friendly, +but the thing for Young and Lee to do was not to wait to see whether it +was friend or foe but turn, and run in opposite directions and then +bring up afterward at their appointed meeting-place where the others +were. That indeed was Lee's impulse, but, "Wait, it's one of our +fellows," said Young, innocently, and just then several figures darted +in at them and before Young or Lee could do anything more they were +surrounded on all sides, seized by the arms and held tight. + +"No use scrapping, fellows," said one of them in Young's ear, +triumphantly. "We've got you, we've got you." + +Just then the first figure walked close up to Young, turned the slide of +a detective's dark-lantern, and remarked, calmly, as the dazzling light +shone on Young's blinking eyes: "Yes, this is the old Deacon; well, +well, that's good! that's good!" + +It wasn't necessary to see the face. Young recognized the disagreeable, +sneering voice. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE LAST HAZING OF "THE MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES" + + +It was all Young's fault that his little friend Lee was, like himself, +in the embarrassing embrace of these Sophomores, and he knew it; and +that worried him more than anything they might do to himself. This was a +fine way to repay Lee for his kindness! + +Channing was still sticking the lantern up close to Young's blinking +eyes, and saying, mockingly, "Well, well, you poor old fool of a Deacon! +you poor old pathetic fool." + +If Young could only jerk himself free he thought he could snatch Lee +away from the two Sophomores holding him and then in the darkness they +could surely escape. There was everything to gain and nothing to lose in +the attempt. + +"Now," said Channing, "let's see who the other foolish Freshman is." + +Then through Young's mind there darted the thought: "Now's the time! +Their attention is diverted." The dazzling light had been taken off his +eyes. At the same instant, and as quick as the flash of the lantern, he +neatly whisked his arms out of the hands that held them, sprang +backward, throwing, as he did so, the two startled Sophomores forward by +the shoulders, and wheeled around toward Lee. + +Now little Lee, you may be sure, was watching for a chance to make a +dash for liberty. Hearing the scuffle of feet in front of him he tried a +similar trick. But his captors also had heard the scuffle; instinctively +they tightened their grasps. Lee shook off but one of them, whirled +around, and started off; the smaller of the two Sophomores was hanging +like a bull-dog to his left arm. + +Young, half-blinded in the change to darkness from dazzling light, +bumped into Lucky, hurriedly grabbed him by the free hand and away they +dashed. It was not quite two seconds from when Young made his first jump +to the time he was going down Nassau Street and making good speed +considering that he was pulling Lee by the left hand, who in turn +dragged unwillingly with the other hand the Sophomore whose knees were +scraping the flagstones. + +Of course, by this time the other Sophomores were after them--were now +only a few yards behind and were gaining at every stride. + +For about forty yards Young ran as he never ran before. The only hope +was that the clinging Sophomore would get tired of sweeping Princeton +pavements with his knees; a moment more and he would surely drop. "Stick +to him," the other Sophomores were shouting in the dark. Two of the +pursuers were almost up to them. Lee gave a furious wrench. It was a +little too furious. He tripped and fell. Young slackened up and tried to +pull Lee to his feet, but Lee purposely loosed his hand and cried, "I'm +a goner, run!" At that instant two Sophomores dropped on him as they +would on a rolling football and cut off his wind. + +But Young did not run--he turned around to try and free his friend--a +third Sophomore running at full speed tackled him furiously, as football +players tackle. They both tripped over the bodies on the ground. Lee +felt two more men come tumbling down in a tangle upon those already on +him. + +"We got 'em both, fellows," screamed one of the Sophomores in the +darkness to the others behind. + +"Are you hurt, Lee?" asked a voice near the back of his neck. + +"How'd you--get--in this?" Lee panted. "Thought you were--block 'way +by--this time." + +Young was panting, too, so he only said, "No--still here." He had got +Lee into this mess and he meant to stick by him. + +The Sophomores, keeping tight hold of Lee and tighter hold of Young, +slowly arose, allowing their recaptured prisoners to stand up. + +"I hope you're not hurt, Lee?" asked one of them in a somewhat +sympathetic voice. He still kept tight hold of the Freshman, however. + +"Nope, I reckon not," said Lee, who hadn't been playing football since +the age of twelve for nothing. + +They all leaned against the fence and panted for a moment + +Young made out nearly a dozen Sophomores in the half-dark. + +Lee stopped panting and smiled. "Well, what are you going to do with +us?" he asked, grimly. + +"Shut up, Freshman, that's our business," said one of them. It was the +same man that had asked Lee if he was hurt a moment before. + +"So, Deacon," said Channing, "you _wouldn't_ come back when we told you +to, you old hay-seed Deacon!" + +Young knew what he referred to, but only looked sober and said nothing, +as usual. + +"Well, well," went on Channing, "so you two proc.-hunters thought you'd +get away, didn't you? Too bad, too bad; teaches Freshmen a good lesson: +little boys must not be out at night. It's not nice." + +"Well, Channing, where shall we put these two foolish virgins?" asked a +gruff voice. The dawn was coming in and Young and Lee saw that it was +that big Ballard. + +Now, it was customary on occasions of this sort to take all prisoners to +some room, generally right there in University Hall, and lock them up +for the rest of the night, and that's what the Sophomores would have +done in this case but for Channing. "Put them!" replied Channing, +indignantly, "we sha'n't put them anywhere until we have dealt out due +chastisement for their rash impudence in trying to escape from their +lawful lords and masters. Am I not right? They should make recompense +for the trouble they have given us." It was Channing's usual vein. + +"Aw, see here, Chan," said one of the others, "we've got a lot of work +still to do and it's getting light already. We can't stop to do any +hazing. Let's lock them up in George Black's room." + +But Channing was not going to let this opportunity slip by for getting +square for what Young had done only a few hours previous. He did not +know that there had been witnesses to the spanking--as yet. "Let the +prisoners follow," he said, and he led the way back to the corner where +the two parties had met. + +Near by, on the ground beside the iron fence, stood a bucket of paste, a +big brush, and a roll of proclamations. Young and Lee had not seen them +before. + +"Here are paste and proclamations," said Channing, "and here are strong +hands and willing. What is to hinder the strong hands being set to work? +Arise, Freshmen, gird up your loins and paste procs, for the day soon +cometh when no man can paste." + +"Right," said the others, smiling. "Kill two birds with one stone." + +Little Lee fairly gasped to himself: "Going to make us paste +procs--procs against our own class!" + +Ballard, who had apparently just got the idea through his head, began to +laugh, and said, "That's a good scheme, Chan, haw, haw, haw!" + +"Don't laugh so loud," said Channing. "Come on, Freshmen, that blank +wall across the street is a good place to begin." + +They were led across the street to the corner grocery store. A tight +hold was kept on Young and Lee this time. + +"Now, this is the way it is done." Channing quickly and rather daintily +pasted up a proclamation. + +By this time it was light enough for the letters to show green, and the +Freshmen read the thing. + +Up near the top Lee, the class secretary, was called "a puppy drum +major" and "Mamma's blue-eyed baby boy, the little toy secretary." In +the portion in finer type, beneath the slurs on the baseball team and +the arrogant prohibitions against the wearing of the college colors and +silk-hats and the smoking of pipes and carrying of canes, Young spied +his own name. + +"Next in the line of freaks," it said, "will amble that poor, meek butt +of all classes, Deacon Young, the overgrown baby of Squeedunk, who +always does everything you tell him to, and says 'Thank you, marm!'" + +"That means me," thought Young, scowling, as he remembered how important +he had always been considered by everyone out at home. "What would they +think of me now, I wonder?" + +Channing had finished his work. + +"Now then," he said, and unfolded another proc and advanced toward the +Freshmen. "Don't all speak at once, children; will Little Willie Young +show us how they handle the brush when they whitewash the fences on the +farm?" + +"Naw, let the class secretary do it first," interrupted Ballard, in his +rough voice. + +Though the crowd had often hazed Lee they had always found him such a +bright, good-natured little chap that Ballard was never allowed to +humble him as much as since the rush he had always wanted to. Here was a +fine chance. Young could wait; it was not much fun to haze Young, +anyway, he was so meek. + +"Get to work there now, Secretary," Ballard shouted in his loud voice. +He did not have brains enough, Young thought, to be sarcastic, but he +had plenty of lungs. "Close in around them, fellows." + +Of course the Freshmen required the use of their hands if they were to +paste procs, so the two were shoved in toward the wall and the dozen +Sophomores with locked arms formed a semi-circle about them. It would be +out of the question for the two to try and escape now. + +Young and Lee were standing by the paste-bucket with their backs to the +Sophomores, who were about twelve feet away from them. + +"Come, get to work there, little boys," said Channing. "You and Young +have nearly fifty more to paste before breakfast." + +"Hurry up there," Ballard echoed, shouting in a tone to wake the +neighborhood. + +Just then a lazy voice was heard. "Heads out! Sophomores are making +Freshmen paste procs! heads out--, everybody look!" It was a Senior +leaning from an upstairs window of University Hall. He was in his +pajamas. + +Meantime, Ballard, who loved to show his power, had stepped arrogantly +into the ring saying, "Do you hear what I say, you little fool! Pick up +that brush and get to work." + +"Heads out, everybody, heads out! Lots of fun," cried the sleepy-looking +Senior. + +Windows began to open and frowsy heads and yawning faces to stick out +from all over the University Place side of the big building. + +Lee thought, with true loyal horror, of how, if he should do as Ballard +said, the Sophomores would taunt him forever afterward. He fancied how +his own classmates would feel about it when they heard that their +secretary had aided in posting those scurrilous proclamations. But what +was there to do? He had only one classmate with him and there were a +dozen Sophomores about him--no, eleven, for the twelfth was now standing +close beside him, shaking a big fist in his face and saying, "See here, +you little fool, are you going to do what I tell you or not?" + +Little Lee calmly looked up into Ballard's face and said, "No, and you +can't make me." + +"You'll see whether I can make you or not," returned Ballard, and with +that he grabbed the little fellow by the coat-collar and shaking him +back and forth roared, "Now, you little fool, you paste that proc or +I'll paste you on the jaw with this fist." Possibly he really meant to +do it, but, at any rate, he did not, for just then Young cried: "No, you +won't, Ballard! No, you won't! Don't you shake him that way; don't you +lay hands on him; don't you touch him." The voice was very high and +earnest. + +"Yea-a. Good enough for you, big Freshman." The upper-classmen were +becoming interested. By this time in the windows across the street were +about twenty lookers-on. Ballard knew that, and he was a Sophomore. +Young was a Freshman. He laughed scornfully. "What have you got to do +with it, you big, overgrown baby?" + +"I'll show you what I've got to do with, you big bully." Young's voice +trembled. "Let go that boy," and much to everyone's astonishment the +Freshman took hold of the Sophomore very much as Ballard had hold of +Lee. + +At this, Ballard, in sheer astonishment that any Freshman should have +the audacity to touch him, Ballard, the centre rush of the Sophomore +team, dropped Lee, wrenched away from Young and whirled around toward +him with fist drawn up in fighting position, dancing up and down, and +saying, "You impudent pup of a Freshman, you impudent pup!" + +["Yea-a! big scrap!" shouted those upstairs--"Aw! Freshman's afraid."] + +Now, Young considered himself the better man, but all he wanted was to +make Ballard let go of Lee, and he had succeeded. + +["Aw! Freshman's bluffed out--too bad!"] + +Ballard had turned once more toward Lee. "Get to work," he bawled. + +Lee stood still. + +Ballard drew back as if to demolish the little fellow. "Now," he +began--but just then in ran Young. His unclenched hands were stuck out +awkwardly in front of him; it made the upper-classmen in the windows +shout with laughter; some of the Sophomores in the ring giggled +excitedly. Young did not hear it. He guarded off one blow, was struck on +the chest by the second, dodged the third--and as he ducked, he plunged +in and grappled. + +They clinched and began to wrench and twist and scuffle about the ring; +the rest of the Sophomores falling back to keep out of the way whenever +the two big fellows came over too near the edge. + +Now, Young was no boxer, but he had, like many another country boy, +wrestled ever since he first put on trousers, and he had not forgotten +all his tricks. He made a feint as if to try a hip throw, then slipped +his arms down on Ballard, twisted his feet around, threw his chin and +his weight forward, and down they both came, Young on top, while the +voices up in University Hall yelled approvingly: "The Freshman is doing +him! the Freshman is doing him!" This made Ballard beside himself with +rage. + +But Young having proved himself the better man, released Ballard +quickly, jumped up, stepped across to Lee, and in a sober manner was +saying, "Now, Lee, I think----" when a staggering blow from Ballard's +fist on the half-turned face nearly upset Young, who was entirely +unprepared for this unexpected attack; he might have fallen but for Lee. + +Up to this point Young, though very much in earnest, had been quite cool +and deliberate. But now, with the cowardly blow stinging on his face, he +became infuriated. He turned and charged at Ballard like one of the +bulls on his father's farm, with his head down and regardless of +consequences. His eyes were wide open and teeth set. His fury gave him +double strength. + +Paying no more attention to Ballard's blows than to so many raindrops, +he dived down and grasped him around the middle, lifted him up, got him +on the right hip, and whirled him over and down upon the ground between +the sidewalk and the curbstone, a full, clean throw. + +The men up in the windows were now really excited, "Good enough, +Freshman! good enough! Served him right! Do it again!" + +That was just what Young, with teeth set and nostrils distended, was +proceeding to do, though not because they told him to, for he was now +oblivious to everything but showing Ballard that there was a limit to +hazing and to Freshman meekness! + +Up went Ballard's legs in the air once more with the enraged Freshman's +long, strong arms locked tightly about him. And again he came down hard +upon the ground. And he had barely got to his feet when in rushed the +Freshman again with his head down, and for the third time Ballard was +thrown flat and fair. This time it was in the gutter, and it was lucky +for Ballard that it was full of leaves, for Young fell heavily on top of +him. + +Up to this point Ballard's classmates had been busy keeping out of the +way of his whirling heels. Now they began to realize that they were +becoming disgraced; something must be done. Channing was calling, +excitedly, "Get in there, somebody; don't let a Freshman do that, +fellows," while he himself kept well out of the way. + +Perhaps they did not admire Ballard for what he had done, but he was +their classmate. One of the bigger fellows dashed in and got Young by +the legs and began to pull. Quick as a flash little Lee ran in and +immediately tripped him up. No one had been watching Lee. Another Soph. +slipped in and pulled Lee off. A couple of them held him. Then the +others began grabbing Young's arms and legs. He held on like a bull-dog. +One man was sitting on his head. Two were on his body. Ballard was +wriggling and swearing. He got one arm over Young's neck. + +"Here, here, give the Freshman a show; give him fair play!" cried some +authoritative voices. It was some Juniors and Seniors hurrying out from +University Hall--some half-dressed and some not dressed at all. + +They ran across the street and brushed Sophomores right and left, +saying, "Get off there--get off there, I tell you!" + +Some Sophomores jumped up; others were pulled off. + +"Ballard has hurt his ankle! Ballard has hurt his ankle--let him up." It +was Channing's shrill voice. + +"Well, if he's hurt let him up," said the Juniors. The Freshman was +still on top. + +"Get off, Freshman, you did him; Ballard has hurt his ankle." + +Young jumped up quickly. "Is he hurt?" he asked, panting, and looking +around; he was amazed to see so many people about him. He had an ugly +bruise under his left eye, where Ballard had hit him; he didn't feel it +now. + +Ballard had hastily jumped up. He did not look at Young; he did not say +a word. He was panting hard; he leaned on Channing's arm and limped +quickly and quietly away. The other Sophomores followed behind; none of +them looked back. There was a dramatic silence. + +"He's not much hurt," said a Junior who knew Ballard of old, and he was +right, for before the Sophomores quite reached the corner Ballard had +stopped limping and was walking as well as anybody. "Say, Channing," +another upper-classman called after them, "how about that spanking?" and +before the small Sophomore was out of earshot he had the pleasure of +hearing the upper-classman begin a narration which was received with +squeals and shouts of laughter. + +Meanwhile Young, in the centre of another ring, was sitting on the +curbstone panting like a good fellow. Lee was bending over him mopping +his face with his own handkerchief and patting him on the back and +laughing excitedly. + +"Are you hurt, old man?" asked one of the Juniors. + +Young shook his head. + +"What's his name?" asked one of the others. + +"Young's his name," answered little Lee, proudly, like the exhibitor of +something rare. + +"Well, he's a good one," said one of the new arrivals. Others were +hurrying down the steps of University Hall and across the street every +moment; they all asked questions. Several of the first arrivals were +telling the new arrivals all about it, with gestures. + +"Tried to make the big fellow paste procs," one man was saying, while +another was crying: "But you ought to have seen that beautiful spanking +last night! Oh, dear! I'll never forget Channing's look when...." + +The big roll of proclamations, by the way, which had been lying on the +ground, had disappeared. Some of the new arrivals were Freshmen, and +Lee, who had hidden it under his coat, gave it to them to carry away. +First they tore down all the procs that were in sight. A Junior picking +up a piece was reading aloud, "the meek butt of all classes." + +"This is 'the meek butt of all classes,'" said Lee, laughing. + +Young got up from the curbstone. + +"Come on, Lucky," he said, "we'll have to hurry to meet those other +fellows on the way from Trenton." + +Lee tried to help him up; Young would not allow it. But as they started +off Lee insisted on putting his arm about him. + +"What! that big, awkward-looking chap?" Young heard a new arrival ask +one of the others. Then just as they reached the corner Lee and Young +suddenly heard: + +"Ray, ray, ray! Tiger, siss, boom, ah! 'Meek butt of all classes!'" It +was the Juniors giving a cheer for him in the early dawn. + +Lee turned around and waved his hand at them. Young blushed, but did not +turn his head. Lee reached up and lifted Young's hat to them, which made +the others laugh. It made Young laugh a little, too. Then they turned +the corner and were out of the crowd. + +[Illustration: MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES! + +Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day the whole +college was talking about it.] + +Before curfew rang in Old North at the close of that day the whole +college was talking about it: "Big green Freshman ... thought he didn't +dare say his soul was his own.... That irrepressible little Channing, +first ... worm turned ... yes, on the third floor of University--Bob +Ellis saw the whole thing himself ... caught big Freshman this morning +with Lee--yes, that nice little fellow.... Sophs undertook to make him +paste procs--no, Lee first.... Little one was game.... Big Bally--yes, +went at Lee.... Big Freshman turned on Bally--Bally punched him--um, +right up here, under eye, a nasty one--then big, meek Freshman.... Oh, +my! lovely!----" + +Only in the telling it became twenty or thirty Sophomores, and it was +over a fence that Ballard was thrown. + +Deacon Young was a hero now. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOW IT FEELS TO BE A HERO + + +Several weeks had passed since Deacon Young had become a class hero, and +a great many things had happened. + +The Freshmen had published and posted their own proclamations since then +(with a good crack on a man named Ballard), and the Sophomores had torn +them down, long ago. The Ninety-blank class football team had been +started, and Young was trying for the position of right guard--and +finding football not so much a matter of mere muscle as it looked; the +class glee club had been organized; a great many friendships had begun; +nearly everybody had joined Whig or Clio Hall (whether they cared to +debate or not); and they were all becoming thoroughly accustomed to +being at college and had begun to love it. But Freshman Young was not +yet accustomed to having people treat him with so much consideration, +and he did not know quite what to make of it. + +It was still amazing to him that such a comparatively small matter could +make such a difference in the way he was regarded. One day he was the +most obscure and despised man in the Freshman class, and the next +day--he was the most talked of character on the campus. He did not wake +up to find himself famous; he had become famous all in a minute, before +he had a chance to go to sleep. Ever since, it had been, "How are you, +old man," from the very ones who used to laugh and say, "Here comes +'Thank you marm.'" Prominent fellows in the class who formerly merely +nodded to him, said, "You must drop up to my room some evening." The +Sophomores bothered him no more; Channing and Ballard--somehow they were +always looking in the other direction when Young met them on the walk. +Even upper-classmen said, "Hello there, Young," condescendingly but +pleasantly, and that fellow Linton stopped him one day and +congratulated him. "Only," he added, puffing his pipe, "only don't get +stuck on yourself, Young." + +"Hello-o-o, Deacon, hold up a minute," called Minerva Powelton one day +on the way from Recitation Hall. "Say, Deacon, old man, come over to my +room, I want to talk to you." He threw an arm carelessly over one of the +Deacon's good shoulders. + +"It's about something important," he said in an undertone as they passed +between the Bulletin Elm and Old Chapel, where the crowd was always +thickest. More than one Freshman, looking on, wished he could be on such +familiar footing with Young. There were others who wished they could be +thus sought out by Powelton. + +It was right here, Young remembered, Powelton put this same arm in the +same way about Lee that day he first heard about the proclamations. +Powelton ignored Young that day. But that was before the Ballard +episode. + +"Deacon," said Powelton, when they had reached the latter's +room--everyone called him "Deacon" now, and he liked it--"a crowd of us +fellows are getting up a new eating-club, so we can all be together; at +present, you know, the gang is scattered all over town. We thought we'd +go some place where we could have an extra room to loaf and read the +papers in, like the upper-classmen clubs, besides getting better grub, +even if we have to pay a little more for it. There'll be Lucky, of +course, and Stevie and Todd--Polk would come, only he has been taken to +the 'Varsity training table" (that was the football man who was next to +Young in the rush), "and White, and, well the whole gang of us, you +know, and we want you to join us. It's the best crowd in the class, all +right enough, even if I do say it myself." + +"Much obliged for asking me," Young interrupted, "but I can't afford +it." + +A few weeks ago Young would have given some other excuse, or would have +blushed and hemmed and hawed before he got out this one. And a few weeks +before, the other Freshman might not have known how to reply to it: but +they had both gained some new ideas since they came to college, and also +had lost some old ones, which is equally important. + +"Lucky told me you were hard up this year," Powelton said, as if he were +often equally hard up himself. "As I was going on to ask, what would you +say to managing the club--would you mind the bother? Then it wouldn't +cost you a cent. It wouldn't be much bother. Somebody's got to run it, +and we want somebody that's congenial. Come on, won't you?" + +"Well, Minerva," said Young, finally, "I'll think about it and tell +you." + +"That's right. Think it over. You've got a week to make up your mind in. +So long." + +"Thank you for asking me. Good-by." + +Young had no objections to managing a club; that was not the reason he +hesitated. It was because he did not agree with Powelton that the +fellows named were the best crowd in the class. In fact, he did not +approve of most of them, and some of them seemed not to realize what +they had been sent to college for. + +He walked on to his room, debating the matter, and finally wrote a +letter to his mother. + + "DEAR MOTHER: + + "... The sixteen fellows composing the proposed club are the + most prominent men in the class. It is a great compliment to + be asked to join them, I suppose, and what is more + important, I should be saving money by it. But although they + are all nice to me, I do not altogether like them--except + that little fellow, Lee, I told you about, and one or two + others. + + "To be sure, I do not know much about them, but I know + enough to know they do not study much--or 'pole,' as we call + it--and more than that, some of them--well, I don't think + you would like them. Now my friends at my present + eating-club all study hard and have a definite aim in life. + They are helpful and congenial friends. I should not like to + leave them. They say they would hate to have me go, too. But + they also say I would be foolish, for financial reasons, not + to accept the offer." + +When Mrs. Young read this letter, she at first wanted to say, "keep out +of fast company, whatever you do!" But on second thoughts she saw that +if Will did not embrace this opportunity he might not be able to stay +in college at all--and as for the new associates, she knew that her boy +was no weakling. Finally she agreed with Will's friends that he would be +foolish to let the chance go by, and wrote immediately, saying so. "And +your own conduct will be a good example to the others," she wrote. + +Will had already made up his mind that way before receiving this letter, +and felt so glad and relieved about it that he played very well at right +guard that day; twice he broke through and stopped the opposing +quarter-back from passing the ball, and was duly applauded by those +watching from the terrace behind Witherspoon Hall. He was commended even +by Nolan, the Junior who coached the team. "Now that you're learning to +use your weight," said Nolan, "you're improving a little. By next year +you will know something about the game; by Junior year you might run a +chance of making the 'Varsity." And this was a good deal for a reserved +man like Nolan to say, and quite enough to make Young's heart beat +faster, though it was going pretty fast already from the hard exercise. + +"Wait a minute, Young," said the Freshman captain, "we're going to let +you stay at right guard. Come up to my room to-night and get measured +for your suit." This meant that he was no longer trying for the Freshman +eleven, but had earned his place upon it. So he dog-trotted back to his +room, feeling exuberant and strong and hopeful, and very glad that he +had determined to run the new club. "Well, it's beginning to look now as +if I might get through the year," he said to himself as he jogged along. +"Haven't any board to pay now, and if I get through this year, I guess I +can manage as a Sophomore all right. There's the Freshman $200 prize--I +run a chance at winning that at the end of the year; and I'll still have +this club next year. I'll still have tuition remitted. Perhaps I can get +one of those rooms in Old North: the rent is free there, and the rooms +are big, too; and maybe I can get some newspapers to correspond for, or +else I can get some tutoring. Oh, I'll manage somehow, all right, if +I'm careful. Then, what'll father say?" + +Panting and perspiring he hurried upstairs to his room, sponged off and +rubbed down with witch-hazel, put on dry clothes, and then walked over +to the club--the old club still; the new one was not to begin till next +week--glowing and glad to be alive. + +They all shouted, "Yea-a-a, Deacon!" at him when he came in, and jumped +up to congratulate him on making the team and pounded him on the back, +for Barrows had overheard what the captain said. Young could tell from +their manner that they were genuinely glad of his success. + +After eating a huge meal with his congenial clubmates he returned to his +room, spent a studious evening with Xenophon, went to bed and slept like +a bear, or rather like a healthy young athlete that is in perfect +condition and has a clear conscience. Oh, these were happy days! + +The next day Young made the arrangements with a woman in Nassau Street +who was famous for good cooking, secured two fine front rooms, +subscribed for a number of New York and Philadelphia daily papers, and +showed Powelton, the president of the club, and the other members of the +Board of Directors, how skilful he was in business affairs. His +experience in the bank helped him here. + +[Illustration: "THE INVINCIBLES." +They had a dignified negro waiter, and they dined in the evening and it +all seemed very fine and luxurious.] + +On the following Wednesday he took his place at the head of the table. +"The Invincibles" the club called itself, and they had a dignified negro +waiter and they dined in the evening, and it all seemed very fine and +luxurious to Young. He missed Barrows and old Jim Wilson, the long, thin +fellow who was studying for the ministry, and he felt a little abashed +at first before these more noisy, jolly fellows. He was afraid they +would think him very green. + +But they respected him all the more for being quiet, and his soberness +of mien, which had formerly made him ridiculous, now impressed these +fellows as something fine. They were younger than he. + +"He doesn't say much," one of them remarked after the first day at the +new club. + +"No," said another, "but when the time comes he can act." + +"He's matured, and has reserved strength and all that. You can see it in +his face." That was Lucky Lee, who had reason for admiring Young's +strength. + +Naturally it was quite flattering to Young--and so it would be to you or +me--to find these fellows of whom he had been half afraid, treating him +as if they were half afraid of him. He could not help discerning how +pleased some of the younger members were to find themselves walking to +chapel or recitation with the right guard of the class team--"the man +that did up Ballard." Nor could he help being pleased at it. + +And, Young soon decided, they were not such a bad lot as he had at first +thought. Undoubtedly they were not a poling crowd and perhaps some of +them were "sporty," but not so many of them as he had feared. College +was a great place to broaden your mind, he concluded. + +However, as he remarked to some of his former clubmates, when they asked +how he liked the new crowd: "They may be doing a great many things when +I'm not around that I don't know anything about. Sometimes at the other +end of the table they make references to things, and they seem not to +want me to understand. I know the other day when I came in late from +football practice, I heard one of 'em say, 'Shut up, Billy, here comes +the Deacon!'" + +And this shows why Wilson, the man studying for the ministry, told +Young, when alone, "Deacon, you have an excellent opportunity for +exercising a steadying, sobering influence upon that set of gay, +thoughtless fellows--they all respect you heartily." + + * * * * * + +The Divisional examinations came along soon after the organization of +the club, and Young was in great demand by those taking the academic +course like himself. Few of the Invincibles had studied conscientiously +during the preceding weeks. They had rather prided themselves on not +being "greasy polers" as they called fellows like Young's former +clubmates, but now they were all poling at a great rate themselves, and +some of them declared they would not get through, though to Young's +amazement they seemed not to care whether they were to be conditioned or +not; they considered it a joke. + +Perhaps one or two of them would not have passed, if it had not been for +Young. "The old Deacon is a valuable man to have around," said Billy +Drew. Most of them landed in the lower divisions, but one of them proved +quite a wonder to Young. His name was Todd, and he had never opened a +book, apparently, since the term began. To Young's knowledge he took +long walks into the country--up over the hills to the north of +town--every afternoon after examination instead of studying, and +invariably he was the first to finish his paper and leave the +examination-room. And yet when the lists of divisions were posted, much +to everyone's surprise, Todd's name was in the First division--along +with Young's. + +They jokingly called him "Poler Todd," and made him treat the whole club +to cigars on the way back from dinner. Apparently he was as much +surprised as anyone, but he seemed not to care very much, and the +dignified Deacon did not know what to make of him. Young himself felt +very much gratified over his success and wrote home to the minister +about it, and confided to him, that he was going to try to capture the +Freshman First Honor prize. The minister wrote back a fine, long letter, +wishing him success and congratulating him on his progress, and also +upon his making the team. Will had no idea the minister would be so +pleased over athletic success. + +So, every day now it was, "Deacon, how many lines of Homer do we have +to-day?" "How do you demonstrate this, Deacon?" + +At first he liked to have them appeal to him, but after awhile it became +a little tiresome; not that he minded the trouble--it was no trouble; +but he did not like to be thought of only as a man who always knew where +the lesson was. He began to wish they would treat him more in the +hail-fellow well-met way they treated each other. With Todd, for +instance, they were as familiar and free and easy as they were with +Billy Drew, and yet Todd was a First division man, like Young. Sometimes +he found himself watching them after dinner, and it was a matter of +wonder to him how Todd could always answer Powelton back, with a witty +piece of repartee, quick as a flash, without looking up from the +dessert-plate at which he was aiming tobacco-smoke. Somehow, Will +thought, he would like to be able to do that way. + +The truth was they did not dare to be familiar with Young; they +respected him too much. Sometimes he felt tired of cold respect and +wanted warm liking. + +You see he was a hero to these boys. You and I know that he was made of +flesh and blood, and weakness and strength, like the rest of us. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A QUESTION OF MONEY + + +The great Yale-Princeton football game, which took place during the +Thanksgiving holidays in New York, was now a matter of history--and of +rejoicing, to one side. But as all those interested in football know +which side won the championship that year, it is not necessary to +recount the game and rub it into the losers. + +Everyone, almost, had gone to see the great contest and to cheer for the +team, and Princeton seemed as deserted as in mid-summer. The Invincibles +secured a huge four-in-hand coach and were half frozen driving up Fifth +Avenue to the game; but they had the privilege, granted to Freshmen on +such occasions only, of wearing the sacred orange and black--yards of +it, hung all over their hats, their clothes, the coach, the driver, and +the horses. They cheered themselves voiceless, and had a time they were +never to forget. + +The Freshman team had played the Columbia University Freshmen in the +morning, and had no difficulty in defeating them by a large score. Right +Guard Young put up a very fair, steady game, the critics said, but had +no chance to make any brilliant play, as he had hoped. + +But the Deacon felt very big and important when his exultant classmates +ran out at the close of the game and carried him and the rest of the +eleven off the field on their shoulders, cheering for each player by +name. + +He felt less important in the afternoon, when the great contest, the +event of the day, took place; he wondered if many of those flocking in +realized that he was Right Guard Young of the Freshman team; again he +feared that he looked like the big green farmer that he did not want +people to think he was. + +The enormous grand-stands and bleachers, and the coaches and carriages, +and even the neighboring houses were jammed with thousands and +thousands of eager human beings, wearing violets or chrysanthemums; and +some of the old grads had come from as far as the Pacific coast to see +this manly match, which was to decide the championship of the two best +football teams in the western hemisphere. Young had never before seen so +many people at once--"more than the population of the whole county +you're in," he wrote to his brother Charlie--and never before had he +been so thrilled as when long Jack Stehman made his famous tackle after +that Yale half-back had dodged past all the rest of the Princeton +team.... But the game and its noise and victory and defeat were all over +now, and the two universities had returned to go on where each had left +off before Thanksgiving. + + * * * * * + +Big Freshman Young had to go on along very pleasant lines, enviable +lines they seemed to many a Freshman who longed in vain to be prominent +and popular, and a member of the dashing Invincibles; but the Deacon had +his worries. It had been very fine at first to be looked up to and +admired, but the novelty had worn off by this time, and he had been +hoping and hoping that his table-mates would soon begin to act toward +him in the same easy, familiar, good-fellow way they acted toward each +other. Why they had not, he failed to understand; he knew it wasn't +because he was poor and ran the club; he wondered if it was because he +had not prepared for college at a large school, and hence was green and +ignorant of the ways of the world. That was one of the things that had +off and on worried him, but that was not the worst; that was not what +was making him stay awake at night thinking. It was that alarming +question of money bobbing up again. + +He had supposed that with the club to run, which wiped out the largest +item of expense, he would have enough to worry along with until +something else turned up. But his account in the Princeton bank was +slowly but surely being drained, and thus far nothing had turned up. + +He had intended to be more economical, but--well, for instance, the +other Invincibles were always "blowing in" money for spreads in their +rooms and all that; and Young did not like to accept favors without +returning them. To be sure he might have declined their invitations +occasionally, but he wanted to show them that the "dignified Deacon," as +they called him, was not so terribly dignified and stiff, as they seemed +to think. Then, too, when subscription lists were passed around for +various purposes, and they came to him among the first as "one of the +influential men of Ninety-blank," he felt that he ought to do his share; +"it's my duty to the good old class," he said, "I hate stinginess, +anyway." + +As a matter of fact he had been doing more than his share, and it was +the appearance of stinginess, possibly, that he hated even more than +stinginess itself. + +Now, he might easily have said: "Here, I can't afford this pace; you +fellows get money from home--I have to earn mine, and so, much as I'd +like to, I simply can't keep step with you--and that's all there is +about it;" he would have been liked none the less and respected all the +more. "Why, certainly; you are dead right," they would have said. But he +did not want to; he preferred to keep step, and did not like them to +know how little money he had. It was nothing to be ashamed of, surely. +It was not on account of money, as his own experience had shown him, +that a man became popular or prominent. + +More money had gone when he went to New York at Thanksgiving time. His +expenses up and back were paid, of course, by the Freshman football +fund, but Lucky Lee had invited him to stay over Sunday at his home +there; and Young felt ashamed of his cut-away coat--though Lucky said, +"Nonsense"--and so he bought something which he considered very +magnificent at a large ready-made place on Broadway, together with some +brilliant neckties, something like Billy Drew's, and a huge scarf-pin +(but decided not to tell his mother how much they all cost, in the +letter describing what a good time he had and how nice Mrs. Lee was). + +So, altogether, with the new term staring him in the face, and room-rent +to pay, and books--though that was a small item compared to what he had +"blown in" foolishly--it was beginning to look as if Deacon Young would +have to hustle if he meant to stay in college much longer. "We'll see +how long you stay there," his father had said. + +"All right," thought Will, "we'll see! More fellows earn their way +through college than the people out home have any idea of, and I think +I'm as good as the next man. I'll talk to Barrows and Wilson and some of +those quiet fellows about it." + +But it was all very well to say: "Why, there's Dougal Davis in the +Junior class who commands $2.50 an hour for tutoring, and there's +Harris, the Senior, who sometimes makes as much as $20 in a week writing +for the New York and Philadelphia papers;" it was easy enough to point +out how many men made money in various other ways; no doubt many did; +but that was just the trouble--so many did that all the opportunities +seemed to be snapped up already. + +Now, a year hence, if he won the Freshman First Honor prize, he would +not only have the $200 but, in consequence of his high stand, he could +get all the tutoring he would want; but this year he was still a +Freshman and there was no class below him to tutor. Next year, also, he +would have some of those newspaper correspondences of Harris's. Young +had already arranged for that--but this year Harris was still in +college. Young might also get the agency for shoes, or athletic goods, +or photographic supplies next year, or possibly the contract for issuing +the programmes of the baseball and football and track athletic games; +or, he might, as a Sophomore, publish syllabuses of the lecture courses +(and sell them for a dollar each). In fact, now that he was on the +field, he saw more ways of earning money while getting a college +education than he had dreamed of--hundreds of ways, very good ways, if +only he had hustled and availed himself of them at the beginning of the +term. Other Freshmen had secured the jobs of distributing the _Daily +Princetonian_ and _The Nassau Literary Magazine_ and _The Tiger_, or +had taken the agency for steam-laundries at Trenton, and so on, and so +on, while he, who needed money more than most of them, had only spent it +foolishly, had not earned a cent, had not done a thing for himself, but +accept the club management which had, so to speak, been thrown into his +lap--and this is what he kept telling himself as he walked to and from +recitations, and repeated when he went to bed at night, and remembered +when he awoke in the morning ... until--how time flies at +college!--Christmas vacation was only a week off and still nothing had +turned up. He couldn't go through another term this way. + +Meanwhile what made it all the harder for Young was to watch the ease +with which Lee and Powelton and the others with whom he sat down three +times a day at the club, received their comfortable allowances from +home. + +"Ah!" they would say, cheerfully, when a check came fluttering out of a +letter. All they had to do to get money was to open envelopes and then +sign their names. "You fellows," Young used to think as he watched +them--"You fellows don't know how lucky you are." But of course he said +nothing to them of what worried him. He was not that kind. They had +great respect for his abilities and thought he could do anything. They +did not guess what was going on in his mind these days, while they +talked of the fun they were going to have during the holidays. "I can't +bear to think of your being away from us at Christmas," wrote the +Deacon's mother. "Perhaps," said Young to himself, "I sha'n't be away, +after all." + +Then he wondered what the fellows would think and what the people "out +home" would say. + +He knew just how his father would laugh at him, remarking, "I told you +so," and how his mother, who kept everyone informed of how Will was +getting on at college, would cry; for it would be as great a +disappointment to her as to him. It would surprise her, too, for he had +not let her know how much he had spent, telling himself that it would +only worry her unnecessarily, that when the time came he would pitch in +and do something. + +"Deacon," said Lucky Lee on the way to luncheon, "you're to come home +with me for the holidays--at least mother says so in this letter. +Course, I don't want you, but I'll obey my mother." + +The sober Deacon laughed at the pleasantry, and thanked Lucky, but shook +his head at the little fellow's repeated importunities. Young felt that +he couldn't afford even to buy a ticket to New York and back. + +His excuses were so lame, however, that the bright-eyed little Lucky +suddenly got an inkling of what was the trouble. "Say, Deacon," he began +when they were alone, "if you should ever get hard up, I hope you have +decency enough to give your friends a chance to----" + +Young blushed and shook his head. + +"I don't mean particularly about this vacation," Lucky went on. "You're +coming home with me all right, if I have to carry you on my back all +the way. I mean in general. For instance, if you--er--that is, well, +blame it, we're good enough friends. If you are 'temporarily +embarrassed,' as they say, when you come back after Christmas, you'll do +what I would do if I were hard up, won't you? If you wouldn't you're no +friend of mine." + +"What would you do, Lucky?" + +"I'd let you lend me some dough--naturally." + +Young hesitated. "Lucky," he said, "I am hard up--don't tell anybody, +but I'm mighty hard up. I'd rather leave college, though, than borrow +money to stay here with." + +But Young spent Christmas holidays with Lucky Lee in New York, and it +turned out to be a very good thing that he did--not only on account of +the temporary rest from worry. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOW HE STAYED IN COLLEGE + + +"Business is the systematic supplying of wants. When all visible wants +are supplied, you must simply create new wants to satisfy. Patient +willingness to do whatever turns up will only bring success when things +turn up. Under the conditions of modern competition things seldom turn +up of themselves." + +Mr. Lee, Lucky's father, had said this one evening after dinner during +the happy holidays; and Will remembered every word of it, not only +because he had great respect for successful Mr. Lee's opinions, but +because what he said seemed to apply to his own quandary. Mr. Lee seemed +to have taken a fancy to Young, and talked to him frequently. Mrs. Lee +liked him, too. She seemed to consider his preferring to eat his peas +with a spoon a very small matter (though Will himself blushed scarlet +when he discovered his mistake). She said she was glad her son had +chosen for one of his intimate friends a young man with so much maturity +and character--this she said to Young himself--"And I know you will look +after him," she said; "he's such an impressionable boy, but he admires +you so much that you can influence him any way you desire." + +The Deacon blushed and said he would try, but what Lucky's father said +made more impression upon him at the time. + +"When all the wants are satisfied you must simply create new wants." It +seemed to Young that this ought to apply to the little world of college +quite as well as to the big world of commerce of which Mr. Lee spoke. +Every day as he walked to and from recitations through the campus, now +muddy and monotonous after a wet snow, Young tried and tried and tried +to think of some new want to satisfy. + +Lucky said he was trying, too; but generally he forgot as soon as anyone +yelled, "Hold up, there, Lucky!" and joined him on the walk. It did not +mean so much to him. + +The Deacon was walking past Old Jimmy, the peanut-and fruit-vender, when +the idea came to him. He suddenly stopped short, slapped his thigh, and +said: "I've got it! I've got it!" That night he unfolded his scheme to +Lucky, whose eyes grew big. + +"Deacon, you're a dandy! But, say, are you sure it'll work?" + +"Sure? No, I'm not sure it'll make much. But I'm sure I'll have to leave +college, anyway, if I don't do something, and----" + +"But why go to all the expense of the posters?" + +"To advertise it, get 'em talking, create the want! That's the way to do +business. And just now everything is dull in the college world--no +athletics to distract attention." + +"Well, I'll help you stick 'em up. It'll remind us of pasting procs, +eh?" + + * * * * * + +One morning, a few days later, the whole University, on its way to and +from recitations and lectures, saw a poster on the Bulletin Elm. It had +two black letters on it, C. C. There was nothing else there. They +glanced at it, wondered what it meant, and passed on. + +The next day a new one was there in letters twice as big, C. C. Again +the college wondered what it meant; but this time some of them did not +pass on until they had asked someone else, "What's that thing for?" +"What's the meaning of that?" No one could answer. + +A snow-storm washed it off during the afternoon. + +A fresh one was put up the next morning. + +"Here's that queer poster again," said the passers-by. "What's it for, +anyway?" + +"Nobody seems to know." + +The next morning the same letters on larger-sized paper were found not +only on the bulletin-board, but tacked up on all the available trees of +the campus, and in the town on all the billboards, old barrels, +tumble-down sheds, and stalled wagons. On the way to recitation, or +lectures, every one saw C. C. half a dozen times. They saw it on the +tree-boxes along the street. When they took walks they saw it on old +barns down toward Kingston. + +Now at Princeton, what there is of a town is little more than a setting +for the University. There are no outside distractions, such as theatres +and the like, as at most large institutions of learning. The campus life +is the only life, and the college students are dependent upon the +college world for all their amusements and between-hour interests. +Everyone keeps in touch with everything that is going on. + +So when this poster with its brief legend continued to appear and +reappear every day, and no one deciphered its meaning, the college began +to get interested--all the more so because it was midwinter, and +therefore neither football nor baseball was absorbing the undergraduate +interest. + +"What's going to happen?" everyone asked. "What's the meaning of this +mystery?" And no one could answer. + +The thing had now kept up for over a week. The _Daily Princetonian_ +commented upon it. Even the faculty began to inquire, in a dignified +way, as to "the meaning of those cabalistic symbols." The undergraduates +had begun to make up words to fit, and rumors floated about the campus. +"C. C.--college clowns," said someone; "it's to be a horse minstrel +troupe." + +"No, that's not it," said another, "it's Curious Customs:--a new book by +a member of the faculty." + +"What nonsense!" sneered a wise Senior, "it's only a hoax perpetrated by +some under-classmen who think themselves funny; it isn't worth talking +about," and he went on down to the club and talked half through dinner +about it himself. + +Those who considered themselves humorous began to make jokes about it. +"Look, here," one would say, and the other would reply, "I C. C." + +And now suddenly the posters disappeared. None could be found in any +part of the town; Bronson, a Junior, paid half a dollar for one to put +in his scrap-book. "What's become of it!" they asked. + +"C. C.--can't come," answered a funny man. + +They were still talking about its disappearance when, a few days later, +the posters again appeared, more of them than ever, and this time it was +a poster to make the undergraduate world excited. It was in the college +colors, for one thing, the paper being orange and the letters black. +That alone was enough to lend fresh interest, but that was not the most +important change. Under the letters C. C. were the words: + +"TO-MORROW, THE 12TH, AT NOON, BY THE CANNON." + +The Cannon is the centre of the front quadrangle and the hub of the +campus life. At half-past twelve o'clock all the morning lectures and +recitations of both upper and lower classes are over, and no one has +anything immediate to attend to. The next day, by the time the bell in +the Old North had finished announcing the noon hour, nearly the whole +university found it convenient to be in the neighborhood of the Cannon. + +Old Jimmy Johnson, the ancient negro fruit-and peanut-vender, stood +beside the Cannon, against which leaned his wheelbarrow heaped high with +a mass of small orange-and-black objects, and over them waved an orange +banner on which were two big black letters, C. C. That was all there was +to look at; and old Jimmy was as silent and bored-looking as ever. + +The crowd drew nearer. The orange-and-black things were small pasteboard +boxes, shaped like miniature bricks. On one side of them was printed +these words, "Made from the purest materials, in the most careful +manner, by a secret receipt in the possession of Fraulein Hummel of New +York." On the other side appeared the words, "Delicious College +Caramels, five cents a box," and on either end, "C. C." Old Jimmy kept +on looking solemn and silent. + +At first the crowd seemed inclined to laugh--not at Jimmy or his load so +much as at themselves, for being so worked up over a small affair. "Is +that all it is?" everyone thought, and some noisy Sophomores began to +shout, in loud voices, "Sold!" "Leg-pull! Leg-pull!" "Let's go," said +someone else; "all over!" + +But curiosity had been whetted too strongly during the past fortnight +not to have it satisfied as fully as possible. Besides, the boxes looked +very neat, and the simple inscription on them sounded very attractive. +Also it was several hours since breakfast; a number of fellows were +observed to swallow something when reading the word "delicious." + +First, three jocular Juniors, who prided themselves on always doing as +they pleased, strode over to Jimmy's wheelbarrow, arm in arm, announcing +to everybody as they did so, "We are going to have some C. C. We must +have C. C.," and bought a box, which they proceeded to open, and the +contents of which they ostentatiously and with much smacking of lips +devoured before the assembled crowed. + +"Oh, we like C. C.!" shouted the three Juniors. "Give us some more, +Jimmy," and then they marched through the crowd munching and saying, +"We are the first to see C. C. We are the first to see C. C. Three +cheers for C. C.!" + +By this time several other Juniors, grinning to show they, too, were +joking, went over to the wheelbarrow and put down five cents each. + +Then other Juniors, then some of the Sophomores--who always like to do +what Juniors do--and after that a few Freshmen, made bold to approach +the wheelbarrow, and finally even a Senior or two, "just to see what +they were like, anyway," sampled C. C., and they immediately stopped +looking superior and remarked, "By Jove, they are good! Try them." + +That was what everybody seemed to think, for within half an hour old +black Jimmy, who almost turned white making change, found his +wheelbarrow empty, and went toddling off to have it replenished; while +the undergraduate body of the University of Princeton strolled off to +its mid-day meal, chewing. + +Two of the crowd who lagged behind seemed pleased about something, and +one was quietly punching the other in the ribs, and saying: "Well, well! +Deacon, well, well! Your little scheme is certainly working, in spite of +my prediction. I hope it will keep on working." + +"Stop punching me, Lucky!" the Deacon said, but he laughed excitedly in +spite of himself. "It'll keep on working all right, you see if it +doesn't. There wasn't any good candy here, and all this needed was an +introduction." + +"Aren't you glad now you went home Christmas with me?" said Lucky, +exultingly; "otherwise you wouldn't have heard us talking about that old +woman and her bully caramels." + +For a week or so C. C.'s were sold as fast as they could be supplied. +They had become "the thing." Students munched them in their rooms, +during their walks, on the way to lecture-rooms, and even inside. They +sent them home to their sisters and to their roommates' sisters. They +told the story in their letters, and their friends sent stamps and +requests for other packages of "those delicious things." + +Of course the first boom died down, as Young knew it would; but there +remained a good, steady, normal demand for them, and before long he had +cleared, in all, $150. + +"Now," thought Will Young, "I am going to lean back and enjoy life like +Todd and the rest of them. Seems to me I have a right to." + +Of course it had leaked out by this time, as such things always do, who +was at the bottom of the C. C. business, and the college said: "What! +that big, sober-looking green Freshman that did up Ballard? He's quite a +boy, isn't he?" + +Now, when this got around to the Invincibles, and so to Will Young, he +only scowled and thought: "I don't see why they still call me green. I +should think by this time"--then he looked down the table. "Are you +coming up to get in the game this evening?" he heard Billy Drew murmur +to Minerva Powelton. + +They did not ask the Deacon, and for some reason the Deacon resented +it. Why? A few months ago he would have resented it if they had asked +him. + + * * * * * + +One wet, muddy day toward the end of the winter two dignified Juniors, +Jimmy Linton, the philosopher, and Billy Nolan, the football man, were +walking across the quadrangle to a four o'clock lecture. + +"Billy," said Linton, "a Freshman is a funny thing. You never can tell +how they are going to turn out. See that fellow ahead there?" + +"Why, that's Young the Freshman guard. Say, Jim, that boy's going to +make the Varsity before he gets out of college." + +Linton said, "He may make the team, but he's going to make a fool of +himself first." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Oh, it's the same old story," Linton smiled. "He's in with a sporty +crowd and is beginning to try to act the way they do. He's a Freshman." + +Nolan shook his head. "You're stuck on your ability to size people up, +but I don't believe Young's that sort of a fool." + +"No, and he doesn't, either. That's just the trouble. It's coming on him +unconsciously. You see he's heard his table-mates talk so much about +things he used to abhor that he's got accustomed to them, and he's +ceased to abhor them. But he doesn't stop there; they seldom do, you +know. You can tell by his walk that his way of looking at things has +changed." + +"But, Jim, Young's not such a kid." + +"He wouldn't be, but, you see, he's had too much success in too many +ways--it has dazzled and rattled the young man from the country. Success +has turned his head. He's flattered at being taken up by these prominent +young sporty Freshmen, and he doesn't know how to let well enough +alone." + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that he wants to get clear 'in it.' He doesn't want to be +considered a big, green giant. He wants to make himself like the rest of +the--Invincibles, I think they call themselves. That is the way to be a +college man, he thinks." + +"Well," said Nolan, "can you account for the way people in general, not +only here in college, but in the big, outside world--people that ought +to know better, people you'd never expect it of--can you account for +their making fools of 'emselves to stand in with the crowd? Asses!" + +Then these two moralizers changed the subject to baseball. Both thought +of taking an early opportunity of giving the big Freshman a friendly +tip, for they knew him well enough by this time. And both went off and +forgot; and if it recurred to them, they put it off till they "felt more +like it." + +What had Deacon Young actually done? Oh, nothing at all, or next to +nothing. Billy Drew one morning at breakfast was telling about his +experience of the night before, and then stopped suddenly when Young +entered the room. + +"Go on, I want to hear the rest of it," said the Deacon, smiling +broadly. "I heard the first part while I was taking off my coat in the +hall. Go on." So Drew went on in the grinning, boastful way of a certain +sort of Freshman, with his account of how he fell upstairs, and how he +tried to catch the bed as it whirled around. + +Some of them began to chuckle. Lucky Lee looked at Young; so did one or +two of the others. Young knew they were looking at him. Here was his +chance to show them he was not so stiff and sober and green as they +imagined. He leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. Then Lucky +Lee and the rest of the table laughed heartily. + +And after that no one took pains to keep things away from the Deacon +again. That seems a very little thing, but, as Linton said, he was not +very likely to stop there. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TROUBLE WITH BEING A HERO + + +The winter, with its jolly long evenings about cosey fire-places, was +over, and the Freshman-Sophomore snowball fight was almost forgotten. +The University baseball candidates had left the "Cage" and were +practising outdoors on the diamond. The glorious spring term had come, +and the Seniors had begun twilight singing on the steps of Old North. +The elms were putting on their new leaves; the undergraduates their new +flannel trousers. + +The Invincibles were on their way from the club, to stretch out under +the old elms and hear the Seniors sing the old songs. + +Powelton was saying: "I don't see why you are so anxious to put him up +for any office. To tell the truth, the old chump has been disgusting me +lately." + +"I'm not anxious," returned Todd, "but you see, he'll take with the +poling element." + +"But will he, _now_? He isn't such a gospel shark as we all thought at +first." + +"Of course, he's no saint, but they don't know anything about the +Deacon, except his high stand and his serious-looking face, and the +reputation he made with that C. C. business. Now, as we're running you +and Ashley for president and vice-president, I think it would be foxy to +put up somebody like the old Deacon for the secretary-treasurership." It +was drawing near the time for the election of class officers for the +next year, and Todd was somewhat of a politician. + +"Maybe you're right, but I don't care to serve with him. He's so +uncouth." + +Powelton need not have worried about that; he did not have to serve with +Young. Powelton was not elected; Young was the only nominee of the +Invincibles that was. + +The club had gained a reputation, not altogether deserved, for +snobbishness. They were also considered, rightly perhaps, the sportiest +crowd in the class; and either of these is dangerous, and the two +together are fatal to a crowd's chances when it comes to class +elections. Besides, the Invincibles had been running class affairs long +enough, and the class thought it would be just as well to distribute +authority and prominence. + +The Invincibles had made the error of taking it for granted that they +would continue to run the class, and bitter was their chagrin when they +found how very mistaken they were. They did not know how to take it; for +several days nobody said very much at the table; they only looked glum +and sour--except Deacon Young. + +"Oh, cork up that tuneless whistle," growled Minerva Powelton; "you make +too much noise." They were familiar with him now. + +Young laughed noisily, but kept on whistling and looked about the table, +as he had seen the others do. Then lighting a cigar, he arose, said, "So +long, fellows--see you later," and walked up the street with his hands +deep in his pockets, his body inclined forward in a kind of slouch, +like a certain upper-classman he admired. + +"Look at him," said Powelton from the window. "My, but he makes me tired +when he tries to do the dead-game act." + +He made them all more or less tired, though most of them liked him +somewhat still, but in a very different way now. He was not a hero any +more. + +He tried to make himself as much like them as he could, but he had only +succeeded in seeming unlike himself. They had not expected or wanted him +to be like them. + +They laughed at him, behind his back and to his face. + +He tried harder. + +They laughed more. He did not realize why. + +There were a great many things that he did not realize. When he was +nominated for the secretary-treasurership, as Powelton now felt like +telling him, it was not because they wanted him, but because the club +wanted the office. And neither did he realize that he was elected +chiefly because of his good reputation, now undeserved, with the +despised quiet fellows of the class. + +All he realized was that he, William Young, who had started out a poor, +ridiculed nonentity from the country, had conquered the famous bully of +the Sophomore class, had won a place as right guard of the Freshman +team, had been sought out by the Invincibles, had earned enough money to +take him through the year, and, finally, had been elected the secretary +and treasurer of the great class of Ninety-blank by popular vote. It was +the very office formerly held by the admired Lucky Lee. It was ill that +was needed to turn his head. + +So he strutted about and looked patronizingly down on his old friends +Barrows and Wilson, and blew smoke in their faces, telling himself how +narrow-minded they were. + +You see, he came to the Invincibles a hero dizzy with success. It is +hard on anyone to be a hero, and success had proved too much for him. +Instead of doing the Invincibles good, as he had intended, they had done +him harm, as they surely never intended. It was such a pity. He could +have made a very different thing of the whole club if he had only used +his influence in the right way. + +But this was another thing he did not realize; at least not until a +little later. And then he did not have the influence. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SERVING TWO MASTERS + + +Although Deacon Young was trying so hard to do the "dead-game act," the +Freshman First Honor prize was still a matter of daily effort with him. +He was really working exceedingly hard for it. He pretended that he was +not working at all. + +He was nearly always with the "crowd" in the evenings and was frequently +seen wandering around as aimlessly as the rest of them during the day. +That was the way he kept from being called a poler. + +[Illustration: 2 A.M. +However, after saying good night ... he would sneak off to his room, tie +a wet towel around his head, and pole....] + +However, after saying good-night yawningly to the other fellows, he +would sneak off to his room, tie a wet towel around his head, and pole +until 2 a.m. He utilized half-holidays when the others were reading or +were off running hare and hounds, or taking long rambles across country, +or canoeing up the Millstone, or shooting with the gun club, or paying +visits to the neighboring cities; also he had dropped out of literary +Hall work entirely, took little exercise, and devoted to his curriculum +studies even the spare time he had formerly put in at miscellaneous +reading. That was the way he kept up his high stand in class. + +So, as the fellows would see him with the idlers until bedtime at night, +and then heard of his making recitations as good as "Poler" Barrows in +the morning, it was no wonder that some began to think him a +"phenomenon" like Todd. That was what Young wanted them to think. He +thought a great deal about what others thought about him--a great deal +too much, some of his more intimate associates decided one evening, +while waiting for him in Minerva Powelton's room. + +"No, don't begin yet," Powelton was saying. "I promised the Deacon we'd +wait for him." + +"I don't see why he is always so anxious to get in the game," said Billy +Drew, inhaling cigarette-smoke. "I don't believe he really enjoys it +very much." + +"The trouble with the Deacon," said Todd, "is that he is too much afraid +of your opinion. If he hadn't got so bored when we called him dignified +he wouldn't have made the mistake in the first place of trying to be a +dead-game, you know. It isn't his style to be that, so he was guyed and +laughed at. But instead of bracing up and being like himself, he sticks +it on all the harder. He thinks to win favor that way. That's the plain +English of it." + +"Aw, you make me tired!" said Lee, good-naturedly. "Somehow, lately, +you're always preaching. The Deacon wants a little recreation, like the +rest of us. That's all. He has plenty of good stuff in him." + +"Plenty," said Todd. "Trouble is, he doesn't let it out." + +The door opened. + +"Yea! Deacon," said the others. + +"Been doing the poler act on the sly again, have you?" asked Powelton, +throwing a sofa cushion at him. + +"Naw. Hello there, Lucky! You here? Going to get in the little game this +evening, hey?" said Young, smiling. "Toddie, you are, aren't you?" + +"No, thanks," said Todd, arising and stretching himself. + +"'Fraid, are you?" asked Young. + +Todd laughed contemptuously. "I'm not afraid to have you think I'm +afraid, if it gives you any pleasure; it doesn't hurt me. Lucky, are you +coming with me?" + +"No," said Lee, looking at the Deacon, "I reckon I'll stay awhile." + +"Come on, Lucky," Todd said. + +Lee shook his head. + +Todd turned, watched the others a moment, while they got out the cards +and chips, and drew up their chairs to the table; then, smiling +quizzically at Young, he took his hat and left the room. + +Now Young may not have been poling just before he arrived, but together +with late hours and lack of exercise, he looked as pale and haggard as +the hardest poler in college. And by the strong light opposite him, as +he sat playing at the table, a fellow like Linton might have fancied he +saw other lines in his face--unpleasant lines that meant something +besides hard study and lack of exercise. + +Somehow, at this game, he did not look like the same Deacon Young who +trotted home from football practice last fall, glowing and glad to be +alive. + +The attitude of most of the club toward the class at large was very much +what Young's was toward Barrows and Wilson and those fellows. The +Invincibles had been frowned upon by the class for being "sporty"; +consequently they hated the class. Instead of changing their conduct, +they became "sportier" than ever, and they were fast gaining a +reputation throughout the college world, and they considered themselves +very dangerous. + +The poker game went on. It was getting late, but nobody noticed that. + +"Whose deal is it?" + +"Mine," said Lucky, picking up the cards with a nervous hand; he began +to shuffle them. + +Powelton smiled in his superior way. "Look at Lucky's fingers twitch," +he said. The others laughed, and Young added, indulgently, "The little +boy will get over that in time." + +Lee was dealing, and he was too much excited to hear or reply to this +sally; it was 1 A.M. of the first night he had ever played cards for +money in his life, and with a beginner's luck he had been winning all +evening. + +"Can you open it, Tommy?" asked Lee, the dealer. + +"Nope," said Stevens. + +"I can't," said Powelton. + +"Can you, Deacon?" + +"No, of course not." + +"Can you, Billy?" + +Drew shook his head. + +"No," said Jones, without waiting to be asked. + +"Sweeten it up, then," said Powelton. + +"Wait a minute," said Lee. "I can. Who's coming in?" He giggled +excitedly. + +Three of the six simply laid down their hands hopelessly. "I never saw +such luck," one of them said. + +Young hesitated a moment "I guess I'll come in," he said finally. "Four +cards please." He puffed on an extinguished cigar-butt. + +"Well, well! the Deacon's got nerve," said Drew. + +"Oh! he's getting to be an old hand," said Minerva Powelton, winking. + +"See how coolly he picks up his cards," remarked Billy Drew. + +Young paid no attention to these remarks. He was cool outwardly, but it +was the coolness of desperation. He had been losing all the evening as +steadily as Lucky had been gaining. But you see he was not a beginner +now; he had played five or six times and felt himself, as they said, an +old hand at it, and he too had laughed at Lucky's greenness--early in +the evening. But now Lucky, who was never persuaded to play poker until +the Deacon played, was winning away all his money. + +Young did not know how much he had lost; he would not let himself think. +But he knew it was more than he could afford, and he made up his mind +that if he lost this time he would not give himself a chance to lose +again. He picked up the four cards he had drawn in place of the +discarded ones, and looked at them. His heart gave a bound. He covered +the cards for a moment, and then looked at them again. + +"Yes, it's really true," he said to himself. "Surely this hand can't be +beaten." + +"Well, what do you do, Deacon?" + +For answer Young simply laid down a large bet. + +"Hully Gee!" whispered Powelton to Drew. "Big bluff the Deacon is +throwing, eh?" + +Lee overheard it. He meant to show the Deacon that he could not be +bluffed out, even if he were a beginner. Besides, he had a hand he was +willing to stake a good deal upon. He put down twice the amount of +Young's bet. + +"Hoho! the bluff didn't work," laughed Drew. "Now, then, Deacon, let's +see what you can do." + +"Shut up!" said Young. "Don't bother us!" He puffed on his cold cigar a +moment, and then put down another large bet. + +"I'm with you!" said Lucky Lee, and he increased the stake again. His +eyes were glistening. + +For several minutes they kept on increasing the amount in the centre of +the table, one thoughtfully, the other excitedly. The older players now +left off making patronizing remarks, and became interested. Finally +Young said, "No, I won't make it any higher. What have you got?" + +Lee slapped down his cards. His voice trembled a little as he asked, +confidently, "Can you beat that?" + +"Yep," said Young, and he coolly laid down his victorious hand. The +others all looked at it. "It's about time I was winning," he said, +calmly enough; but his heart was thumping. + +"Why didn't you keep on raising him?" asked Powelton, sneeringly. + +"I wish I had," thought Young, as he gathered in what meant a large +winning for one swoop. Lee was laughing loudly to show he did not care. +He was excited, and would have gone on betting for a long time, Young +thought. + +That was the turning-point. Had Young lost, he might have stopped; but +to stop now would look mean, he reflected. + +"The luck has turned," he whispered to himself. "I'll play a few more +hands." And when the game broke up at dawn, he had lost his winnings, +and more. + +That night he tossed in his bed, and said: "I must stop; that's all +there is about it; I _must_ stop." + +The next time they met to play, Young said, "Go ahead without me; I +don't feel like it to-night." + +"The Deacon hasn't any sporting blood. He's afraid of his own pupil," +Powelton said, and the others laughed. Lucky laughed, too; he was the +pupil. Young played. + +That night Young won handily. He felt especially pleased to win that +night. He thought, "I'll stop the minute I have won back what I lost." +But he did not win back what he had lost, and so played on the next +night, and on the next. And so it went until he was brought to a stop +with a jerk. + +It came near the end of the term and of the year, shortly before the +final examinations. The crowd had been playing nearly every night, and +of late, somehow, Young had been losing nearly every time he played; but +he said: "I can't afford to stop now. Surely this bad luck can't +continue. I must win! I will win next time!" He could not stop. It is +called "gambler's fever." + +He could not sleep; he was neglecting his studies. He had used up all +his allowance of "absences." He did not mind that, but he had within +these few weeks lost--he would not allow himself to reckon how much! He +had borrowed from the fellows, and he had been steadily drawing from the +bank the precious money for which he had worked so hard, and which meant +so much more to him than money meant to boys with monthly allowances +from home. One morning he made out another check to his own order. "This +is positively the last time," he said to himself. He had said that +before, but this time it was true. + +That night he began to lose with the first hand. He laughed, he played +recklessly, he lost. He went home, and found a letter in his pocket +while undressing which he had forgotten to open, in hurrying to the +game. This letter said, "We beg leave to call your attention to the fact +that your account seems to be overdrawn to the amount of seventy-five +cents." It was from the Princeton Bank. + +This meant that William Young owned not a cent in the world, and was a +debtor even to the bank besides owing various sums to his companions. He +was bankrupt. It was pretty bad. But that was not the worst of it. That +was not the reason he stood by the table letting his lamp smoke while he +kept staring at the letter in his hand. + +He had kept with his personal account the fund of his class, and every +cent of it was gone with the rest. He had held it in trust as treasurer. +It had amounted to something over one hundred dollars. + +But he had drawn it out unconsciously? No; he knew he had used all his +own money long ago. + +But surely he had meant to return what he had borrowed from the class +fund? Oh, yes; but this kind of "borrowing" is called embezzlement--an +ugly word. It really means theft and breach of trust combined. + +Young could not take it all in at first. For awhile he stood there, +saying to himself, "Isn't it funny this letter was in my pocket all the +evening while I was playing--isn't it funny?" + +Then he looked up, sniffed, and said, "That lamp is smoking." He turned +it down, and stared at the flame for nearly a minute. Then suddenly he +blew it out, and was alone in the darkness. + +Oh, yes, it was all true. There was no way of getting out of it. He +realized it all now vividly. He, William Young, a member of the church, +son of honest old Farmer Young, was a gambler and--yes, he might just as +well call it by its right name--a thief! + +He was the one of whom the others at home used to stand in awe because +he was going East for a higher education. He was the one for whom the +minister predicted such great things. He was the one who had his +tuition remitted in consideration of "high moral character." He was the +one whose letters from college were read aloud at the sewing society by +a proud little mother, who thought he was the best son in the world. + +Why hadn't he stayed at home and remained an honest man, working hard in +the bank or as a plain farmer, like good little Charlie? Oh, how did he +ever sink so low? If he only had a chance to do it all over again--if he +could only wake up and find it all a dream--if he could only wipe it all +out of existence, how joyous and sunny would be life and duty and hard +work again! + +But it wasn't a dream! It was all very real, indeed. None of it could be +wiped out. It was all there and staring him in the face, real, horribly +real. And that was not all; matters could not remain only as bad as +_this_. He was an out-and-out embezzler, liable to be found out and +exposed as such at any moment--and then what? + +Leave college with a disgraced name--but that would not be all. The +news would go home; it would get there before he did. Everyone in the +county would hear it, and talk about him. Some of them would laugh and +sneer, and say, "Too bad!" and really be secretly glad. + +Perhaps the authorities would send and--it made him weak and sick to +think of it--have him arrested--by an officer of the law--and put in +jail. This would kill his honest, old gray-bearded father. And as for +his mother--but that hurt too much! He shut his eyes; he simply would +not let himself think of that. + +But what could he do? Time was flying. Just now he had heard Old North +strike four in the dark, silent distance--good Old North, on whose steps +he had hoped to sing as a Senior some day. Every moment brought him +nearer to ruin. Something must be done. + +He took hold of his head to quiet its buzzing. "It will do no good to +think about it any more," he said aloud. "Act, act, act--you must!" + +First, he spent a few bitter moments on his knees by the bed It is no +one's concern what he said to God. Then he arose, quite calmly struck a +match, and with an almost steady hand lighted the lamp. Then very +deliberately, in a matter-of-fact way, he drew up the rocking-chair so +that the light would come over his left shoulder. He dragged over +another chair to put his feet upon. He sat down. He did a little +figuring at first on the envelope in his hand. Then he opened his +trigonometry and studied furiously until chapel-time. There was, you +see, good stuff in Will Young yet. + +It would do no good to tell himself any longer how low he had fallen; +but it would do a great deal of good to win the Freshman First Honor +prize; and he had no time to lose. + +To win was not a mere ambition now--it was a grim necessity. It was the +one way of keeping from being disgraced in the eyes of the world as +deeply as he was in his own and God's. + +The prize would not come until commencement. Before that time the class +might vote to use its money. They might instruct their "honorable +treasurer" to expend the funds on decorations and a brass band, as was +sometimes done at the close of examinations to celebrate their +Sophomorehood; and what would he do then! He decided that he must not +let himself think about that now. It made his heart stop so short it +fairly hurt; besides, it interrupted his work. + +He had figured it all out in his neat businesslike hand on the envelope. +On one side, under assets, he wrote, "Freshman prize, if won, $200;" on +the other side the following list: + + The Princeton Bank overdraw $0.75 + Henry Powelton, borrowed 10.00 + Carey H. Lee, borrowed 25.00 + William Sinclair Drew 23.35 + The class of Ninety-blank debt 117.20 + ------- + Total $176.30 + +Two hundred dollars would "square" him, and just leave enough to buy a +ticket back to the old farm--that is, if he wanted to go there. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LAST CHANCE + + +Many times that huge, dark thing in the background of his thoughts +jumped into the foreground and interrupted his work; but he accomplished +a good deal. He felt a glow of hope. It was only ten days to the +examinations, but it had only been during the past month of madness that +he had neglected his studies. He could soon make that up. + +Just as he started for chapel, he suddenly began to wonder if he had +been mistaken about that prize. Wasn't it only $100 after all? He took +down a catalogue and looked it up. He was right, the prize was $200. + +"A prize of $200, part of the income of the J. S. K. fund;" but what was +this?--"To be paid in quarterly instalments during the following year"! +He had never noticed that before. For a moment it made him feel sick at +the stomach. Then he decided that it was not so bad after all, for if he +only won the prize he could borrow money on the certificate of it that +would be presented the winner at commencement. + +For the first day or two the club guyed him for turning poler, and they +thought his serious and grave demeanor was very funny when he declined +to join with them in their pursuits. At first he paid no attention to +their jeers; he had no time. Then came the day he got angry and said. +"It makes no difference to me what you fellows think. I've quit my +foolishness for good, and that's all there is to it. Now let me alone." + +He struck the table a heavy blow, and looked as if he meant everything +he said; and no one felt inclined to guy him again. He looked like the +old Deacon who had done up Ballard. + +"The Deacon must have an attack of R. E. Morse," Billy Drew said, as he +left the room. + +"I think he's pretty hard hit financially," said Lucky Lee, who had been +pretty hard hit of late himself. "He's working his way through college, +you know. I wish he hadn't lost so much money." + +"He had no business playing, then," said Powelton. + +"I respect him for stopping, anyway," said Todd, who seldom played +cards; recently he had not played at all; he had been doing some +studying, "just for fun," he said. + +"So do I," said Lee, in a low voice, and the others agreed--in lower +voices. + +Meanwhile, Young was studying as if his life depended upon it, and the +strain was telling. He had lost twenty-four pounds since the football +season. + +The fellows saw nothing of him now except at meals, where he kept his +white face turned down to the book beside his plate. They had left off +guying him, and were worrying about him instead. + +They began saying: "See here, old man, you've got to quit this. You'll +kill yourself if you keep on this way. The prize isn't worth it." But it +did no good. Finally a number of them came up to his room one evening +to see what they could do about it. They were headed by Lucky Lee. + +"I wish you would let me alone," was all that Young would say. "I've +simply got to win that prize." + +"Why have you got to?" asked Lucky, in his nice, refined voice. + +At that Young only smiled queerly, and turned to the table where his +books were. + +"See here, you old chump," said Lucky. "I believe you've got a +notion--say, fellows, the Deacon's got a notion that just because he +owes some of us a couple of dollars or so we are in a hurry to be paid +back. If he thinks that, he's an old ass, isn't he, fellows?" + +"Why, certainly," said Powelton. + +"Thank you," said Young, curtly; "but as I said before, I intend to +square up at commencement." + +"Why, we can get along just as well till next fall," Lucky went on, +although he had pawned some of his clothes as well as his bicycle last +week. "In fact, if you're worrying about it, why--well--they were +gambling debts, Will, and----" + +"Lucky," said Young, flushing, "that's no way to talk. I'm an honest man +and"----then he stopped suddenly; he was not an honest man, and this was +the first time he had been called "Will" since he left home, and home +was what he hated most of all to think of in these days, and this was +Lucky Lee, who never would have had gambling debts, if it had not been +for him, and whose kind mother he had promised---- Altogether he felt +very queer and wrought up, and for a wild moment he had a notion to tell +them all about it, and make a clean breast of it. + +If he had done so they might have helped him out and sworn secrecy; but +Young was not the sort that could do it. "Please go away, fellows, and +leave me alone. You're mighty good, but--you don't understand," he said. + +They could see something was troubling him greatly. They did go away, +and they did not understand, but they felt very sorry. After that Todd, +without telling the reason, left off studying hard and took to rambling +in the woods again. + +"Aren't you going to try for the prize, then?" they asked him. + +"I wouldn't stand any chance against Young," he answered. But the others +were not so sure about that. + +Meanwhile every hour brought final examinations sixty minutes nearer, +and Young, all alone in his little bake-oven of a room, was studying as +probably no student had ever studied in that old room before. Sometimes +he felt that even his powerful constitution would not stand the strain +much longer; but he could not afford to break down or die until after +commencement, until after disgrace had been averted from his family +name. It was that thought which kept his heavy eyelids open. + +Examination week was like a long, hideous nightmare. + +There were tasks that seemed superhuman to perform, and with them the +sickening dread that he could not perform them. When the last paper was +finished and handed in he had a horrible conviction that he had lost the +prize. He felt sure of it. + +But he could not be sure until commencement day itself, and before that +came four days of preliminary commencement gayety. Each one of these +contained for Young twenty-four hours of suspense, and these were worse +than examination days--there was nothing to take his mind off what he +did not want to think about. He could not sleep. His nerves were used +up; and everybody else was so happy! + +The campus was bright with hundreds of attractive girls in summer +costumes, and alive with rollicking old graduates holding noisy +reunions. But even at the baseball game, when the nine was beating Yale +and everyone else was crazy with exultant joy, Young was saying to +himself: "How should I break the news to mother? Should I let matters +take their course, or--what are they all cheering for now? Oh, I see, +Cap has made another hit!" + +The worst of it was that he had no one to take him out of himself. +Nearly all his classmates and all his intimates were packing up and +going home, as Freshmen usually do, without waiting for commencement. +Luckily they had not voted to celebrate their Sophomorehood! He wandered +about all alone; and all alone he went in to hear his fate decided on +commencement morning. + +Near the door he stood, squeezed in beside some graduates he had never +seen before, who wondered why this long, gaunt undergraduate started so +when the clerk of the Board of Trustees arose and began to announce the +fellowships and prizes. + +The awards were read from a long list in the clerk's hand, and after +each announcement there was a cheer from the members of the literary +society to which the victor belonged. It delayed matters so. Sometimes +they cheered several times. Then the clerk cleared his throat and went +on slowly. + +At last he came down toward the end of the list. + +"Now, then," said Young, bracing himself. "I know I am going to lose." +He did not dare look up. Just in front of him sat a good-looking girl. +He saw her put her pretty orange-and-black-bordered programme to her +lips and suppress a yawn while the loud, monotonous voice of the clerk +said, "The Freshman First Honor prize awarded to J. Milton Barrows, of +Pennsylvania." + +Young stood perfectly still. He did not move a muscle. He heard the loud +cheering. He heard a man behind him say, "Well! well!" He heard the band +strike up a lively air. Still looking at the girl, he saw her begin to +beat time to the music with her programme against her pursed lips. + +Then he shut his eyes tight for a moment and asked himself: "What was it +I was going to do? I cannot remember somehow. What was it? Shall--shall +I telegraph----" + +In a few minutes the valedictorian had finished his oration, then the +benediction was pronounced, and the audience flocked out laughing and +talking while the band played with all its might. Commencement was over, +and the college year was a matter of history. + + * * * * * + +A few hours later Young was speeding across the country at the rate of +ever so many miles an hour toward the old prairie farm, toward the home +he had disgraced. + +He did not know why he was going home, unless it was because the watch +he pawned brought just the right amount of money. Instinct made him do +it, perhaps. + +As the train started off down the grade he stood on the rear platform, +and looked back at the green campus and the dear old brown building. + +"Perhaps," he said to himself, "perhaps in time they'll forget that +there ever was a fellow named 'Deacon' Young." + +Then the car turned the curve, and the college was hidden from view. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"HOME FROM COLLEGE" + + +She was standing beside the neatly painted horse-block, waiting to +welcome her boy. Will had spied her from the road. + +As the buggy turned in through the gate he began to brace himself for +meeting her. This was going to be harder, he knew, than had been the +meeting at the railroad station a little while before, with his father, +whose honest old eyes had looked at him so searchingly. + +He was coming nearer and nearer. She was smiling. It was the same +motherly smile he had known he would see. Now she was speaking his name. +The next moment he was out of the buggy, and she was kissing him just as +when he was an innocent little boy. She was frightened at her son's +pale, haggard face, but she did not want him to know it, and only +said, patting his cheek laughingly, "Why didn't you take better care of +yourself, child?" + +[Illustration: THE MEETING +"I don't know, mother," he said slowly, "I don't know...."] + +They were walking up the path. Will looked down at her. The tears were +forming in the little mother's eyes. He looked away again. "I don't +know, mother," he said, slowly, "I don't know why I didn't take better +care of myself." + +"There, don't talk. You must rest after your long journey. Keep still +now. You can tell me all about everything later on." They opened the +screen door and went in. + +Even Mr. Young had been alarmed when he saw his son step off the train. +At least he treated him very considerately and said, as he shook his +hand: "I guess you've been studying too hard there at school, ain't you? +'All work and no play'--you know the rest of it." + +Will dropped his eyes as he thought of the kind of playing he had been +doing. Then he said, abruptly: "Well, I'll have plenty of time to get +well in," looked up the street and remarked that everything seemed the +same. + +"Yes, everything's the same with us," his father replied, unhitching the +horse. + +"Hello, Molly," Will said to the mare, "do you remember me?" + +He was embarrassed in his father's presence, and Mr. Young seemed to +notice it, for as they got into the buggy he said, in an uneasy manner: +"Mother got your telegram, but I had to come to town anyway, so I +thought I might just as well drive you out home myself. Had a pleasant +trip?" + +Indeed, his father, who had never once written him a letter during the +nine months' absence, was the last one Will expected to meet at the +station, but that was not what caused Will's constraint. It was the +queer searching way he looked at him every now and then. + +"Could he have heard about it!" Will kept asking himself. "No, he +_can't_ know. If he knew--if he knew, he would be taking me to jail +instead of home. He would say it served me right for going against his +wishes." + +At supper-time his father and his brother Charlie came in from the +cornfields together. "Hope you'll bring us rain," said Mr. Young. "We +need it." Charlie was brown and big, and he gave Will's hand a hearty +grip and said, "Glad to see you back, Will, blamed if I ain't." + +Charlie never had ambitions for higher education. "Lucky Charlie!" +thought Will, remembering how he used to look down on him. + +"They must make you study a lot, though!" Charlie added, looking at +Will's face. + +Mr. Young disappeared for a few minutes into the next room; when he +returned he interrupted the conversation with, "By the way, mother, Will +says he don't think he'll go back there to school any more." + +Mrs. Young did not want the matter discussed just now, for she saw a +pained look come over Will's face at the mention of it. "Whatever he +does," she said, in her bright, quick manner, "he must get well and +strong and happy again. Cheer up, Will, cheer up, look happy--my +goodness! just see his face," she went on laughing. "Don't you know +you're home, anyway, boy?" + +Yes, he was home, anyway. But what a way it was; not very much like the +proud homecoming he had pictured long ago. + +Mr. Young did not like to be switched off the subject. He went on, in a +queer tone: "Yes, I thought you'd come around to my way of thinking. I +thought you'd get tired of putting yourself through college, as you +called it. I ain't surprised, not a bit." + +Will did not feel piqued or indignant. He only asked himself how much +longer he would wait before telling them all that he, William Young, son +of his father, member of the church, and the boy who had his tuition +remitted in consequence of a "high moral character," was a gambler and a +thief, and was liable to be exposed as such at any moment. Even now at +this hour somebody there in the East might be making inquiries as to his +whereabouts. + +This load was becoming more than he could bear. Why not tell them all, +right then and there, and have it over with? "Listen, father," said +Will, his voice breaking a little. "You little understand the meaning +of my actions. Listen, everybody. I have something important to say." + +"Shissh, Will, keep quiet, you're nervous," interrupted his mother. +"Father, don't let the poor boy try to talk. He's sick. He's all wrought +up; look at him." + +"But I must explain--I _will_ explain. You all must know. Now listen: +the reason I'm not going back--the reason I had to study so----" + +"Keep still, Will," said his father, in a grave tone; "you needn't go +on. I know all about it." + +Will's heart stood still. + +"You know all about it, father?" + +"Yes, the minister told us how hard you were working for the prize. And +we read in the Chicago papers that another boy won it----" + +"Oh, you don't understand; you don't know why I needed to win it. You +don't know anything about it--anything about it." + +"Yes, yes, I do, Will," said Mr. Young, fumbling in his pocket for +something, "yes, I do." + +Mrs. Young put in excitedly: "It was because you had to have the money +to go back next year. That was the reason you worked yourself nearly +into the grave and wrote such short, irregular letters home and----" + +"Now, mother, keep still," interrupted Mr. Young, "I have something to +say." He dropped his eyes as though ashamed. He had taken out of his +pocket a slip of paper. There was some printing on it and some blank +places filled in with writing. He cleared his throat in the way he was +accustomed to do when he got up in prayer-meeting. "You had to have the +money. It was a necessity. You worked hard for it, but you missed it. +And I thought, seeing you missed the prize there at school, I would show +my appreciation of your efforts there at school, that--now, Will, take +this and stop looking at me in that way. You done your best. Now you +won't have to change your plans. I hate to see people change their +plans." + +His father had put the slip of paper in his hand. Will looked at it. It +was a check drawn on the Farmers' National Bank. It said, "Pay to the +order of William Young Two Hundred Dollars ($200)." What did it all +mean? + +It meant that the obstinate will of good old Farmer Young, that could +not be budged by the arguments of the minister or bent by the coaxing of +his wife, had finally been melted away by his own full heart at seeing +this poor sick boy of his, who bore the marks of having struggled so +pluckily and so discouragingly to earn for himself what his father had +refused to grant. Also it meant that Will Young could lift his head once +more, a free man. + +"Why, where are you going, Will?" asked his mother. He had got up from +the table. + +"I'm not hungry," he said, in a strange voice; "I'm going up to my room. +I'll be down soon." Then as he opened the door he said, without turning +around: "I don't deserve this, father. I can't tell you just now how +little I deserve it, but I'm going to take it." The door closed. + +"What on earth's the matter with the boy?" said Mrs. Young, sighing. "I +suppose it's because he takes losing that prize so to heart. He's too +conscientious. Don't deserve it!--nonsense!" + +When Will came down he looked better. + +"Did Charlie say he was going to drive to town," he asked. + +"Yes," said his mother. "But you don't want----" + +"No, but I've got some letters here I'd like to go East the first thing +in the morning." And the next morning they were going East as fast as +the United States mail-cars could carry them. + +One of them was to the Princeton Bank, and it contained the check for +$200, and an apology for overdrawing his account the month previous, +which was "not likely to happen again," he said. + +The other contained checks also, drawn on that very bank for various +amounts to the order of Carey H. Lee and the rest, whose home addresses +he had looked up in the college catalogue. + +And then he had the first calm full night's sleep in over a month and +came down to breakfast singing "The Orange and the Black," and all the +family thought it a "real pretty song," and did not know that Will sang +it to a tune of his own. + +He felt like a new man. Perhaps he was. + +"Father," said Mrs. Young, "look at Will; he's better already. I knew my +cooking and a little home comfort would do worlds for him. And I guess," +she added, in Mr. Young's ear, "you cheered him up more by giving him +that money, father." + +Mr. Young felt that he had been pretty generous, but he only growled. + +They did not know the real reason Will was so exuberant this bright +sunny morning. + +Was it necessary for them to know? That was one thing left to worry +about: whether it would be right to overwhelm his parents by telling +them of what their son had been through, or would it be wrong to keep on +taking their love and sympathy (as it seemed he had received his +father's check) on false pretences? He kept on being perplexed until he +finally confessed his whole story to the minister and asked him what to +do about it. + +The minister, in his straightforward way, asked, "Have you confessed it +to God, Will?" + +"Yes, sir," said Will, dropping his eyes. + +"And has He forgiven you?" + +Will paused a moment. "I think He has now." + +"Then I think that is enough. In one sense it is certainly deceiving +them not to tell them, but I think it is the lesser of two evils. It +would do little or no good to tell your good old parents. It would only +grieve them as much as it would amaze them. You can pay back what you +owe your parents in love and kindness as well as in money. Don't you +think so?" + +Will thought so and he made up his mind to try. + +It became a matter of comment among the neighbors the way Will Young, +whom they were inclined to look at sceptically since "he went East to +college," was pitching in and working harder than any hired man on his +father's place and, what was more surprising, seeming to enjoy it; they +did not know quite what to make of it. He was paying back the $200. + +It surprised his father also and pleased him, and so did Will's +respectful manner and his simple boyish endeavors to carry out all his +wishes. He was trying to pay back the other debt also. + +When the fall came again Mr. Young hated more than ever to have him +leave, but this time, as he told Will's mother, he would fix it, he +guessed, so Will wouldn't have to work himself to a skeleton. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE END OF IT + + +"Hello, here comes Deacon Young with a brand new orange-and-black blazer +on!" + +"Yea-a-a," interrupted one fellow in a loud, shrill voice, and the +others all joined in and yelled, "Yea-a, Deacon!" and ran at him and +pounded him on the shoulders, jumped on his back and made other signs of +pleasure at seeing a classmate once more, while they asked him what kind +of a vacation he had had, and told him he looked as though he had been +training for football all summer. Will laughed and told how he had +trained. + +"It must be great to work on a farm," said Lee, punching the Deacon's +shoulders. + +"Come on," one of them shouted, "we're taking a walk about the old place +to see how everything looks. Let's gather a crowd--Ninety-blank this +way!" + +They shouted the old cry in concert and started off together. + +"What are you going to do this year, Deacon?" It was Todd who happened +to be marching next to Young. + +"How do you mean?" + +"Well, are you going to pole or loaf or be a dead-game or what?" + +"Well," answered Young, "I'm going to do some of the first and combine +some football with it if I have good luck; but I am not going to try any +more of the last. I don't know as I need tell you that, Todd." He wanted +to say more, but only frowned as he thought of how hard it would be to +accomplish what he had resolved to accomplish with the club this year. + +Todd said, "I'm glad you told me, though. I think the whole club made a +fool of itself last year. It needs to take a big brace." + +Young turned and looked at him. Todd had spoken in his usual quiet, +careless manner, but Young thought his words implied something. + +"Do you think--say, Todd, do you think there's much hope of its +bracing?" + +"Not unless they're made to," laughed Todd. "Perhaps," he said, looking +the other way, "we can make 'em if we pull together. What do you say, +Deacon?" + +"Let's try," said Young. He held out his hand. + +Todd took it in an embarrassed manner, and then shouted: "Hi, there, you +fellows in front! Let's go down to meet the 2.17. There'll be a lot of +the class in on that train. Start up a song, somebody." + +They all marched off across the campus singing, with loud happy voices: + + "Here's to Ninety-blank-- + Drink her down--drink her down." + +Arms were thrown carelessly over shoulders and perhaps they swaggered a +little as they marched. But it feels very good to be a Sophomore, +especially the first day. + +And all this fraternal joyousness, together with the superabundance of +orange and black, greatly impressed one of the very green Freshmen who +happened just then to be scurrying by with wonder in his eyes. And it +happened to be at about the same spot in the walk that another Freshman +had met another crowd of Sophomores and was called "Deacon" for the +first time in his life. But that was a whole year ago. + +Young had learned a good deal in that year, he was thinking. "Not all of +what you are taught at college," he said to himself, "comes out of the +text-books--especially in Freshman year." + + + + +By Jesse Lynch Williams + + * * * * * + +The Stolen Story +And Other Newspaper Stories + +_Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25_ + + * * * * * + +Charles Scribner's Sons, Publishers + + * * * * * + +"Mr. Williams has had the good fortune--it really seems largely a matter +of luck in many cases--to treat his fresh material with a simplicity +which imparts a sense of strong reality. The newspaper life has a +lasting fascination for any one who has ever known it, and I think the +most ignorant must feel something of its charm in these tales."--W. D. +HOWELLS in _Literature_. + +"This is not, however, a volume of moral essays on journalism; it is +first and last a collection of stories, told in a compressed, rapid +style that carries you along with something of the zest that took +possession of Billy Woods when he was on the track of a beat."--DROCH in +_Life_. + +"Told with such fidelity and skill as to command the attention and +favorable comment of the men who make newspapers."--CHESTER S. LORD, +Managing Editor of the New York _Sun_, in the _Book Buyer_. + +"Have not only taken the newspaper world by storm, but the reading world +in general are turning to bestow more than a second glance at the work +of this brilliant writer.... More than a quarter of the work is new +matter, now appearing for the first time."--_The Boston Courier_. + + + + +By Jesse Lynch Williams + + * * * * * + +Princeton Stories + +_EIGHTH EDITION. 16mo, $1.00_ + +"Here is the evanescent charm, the touch of poetry and sentiment that +pervades a thousand unpoetic and rather reserved young men. You will +find here the good-fellowship depicted without any rant about it. There +isn't a prig in these stories ... that are well written and well +constructed, judged from the standard of good American short-story +writing."--DROCH in _Life_. + +"Beside being well constructed and well told, they breathe a spirit of +commendable vigor and manliness. Princeton men are fortunate in having +the life of their college so favorably presented to the outside +world."--_Atlantic Monthly_. + +"The stories are told with a naturalness and truthfulness that are very +charming. The author ... enables the reader to find the real Princeton +man of to-day, not as he ought to be, but as he is."--_Boston Home +Journal_. + +"No stories of American college life that have yet appeared are equal to +'Princeton Stories.'"--_The Golden Rule_. + +"He has the real art of not saying the one word too much."--_The Book +Buyer_. + + * * * * * + +Charles Scribner's Sons +153-157 Fifth Avenue +New York + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of a Freshman, by +Jesse Lynch Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A FRESHMAN *** + +***** This file should be named 34986.txt or 34986.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/8/34986/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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