Page 39 - The Adventures of a Freshman

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.