Page 18 - The Adventures of a Freshman
P. 18

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.
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