"Well, I don't see where the joke on you comes in," said Holworthy, as Hudson paused. "Neither did I," answered Hudson. "I thought, in fact, that I had been pretty clever about the whole affair, until--until," he went on, gathering force by the repetition, "_until the engagement was announced_! By Jove!" hurling his cigar butt into the fireplace as the recollection grew on him, "that man and that girl had been engaged all summer; for a week I had been playing smart Alec and steady number three, making her hate the sight of me, while the Yale man was undoubtedly all the time laughing in his sleeve at seeing me make a fool of myself." "Go on," commanded the relentless Stoughton. "Go on, there is an epilogue,--or do you want me to tell it?" "No, I'll do the whole thing," said Hudson, humbly. "When Dick and I went round to call after the announcement, and congratulate Sheffield, my little friend Freddy came running into the room. 'Oh, Mr. Hudson,' he shouted, 'isn't it fun! Now we know why Nell got so mad about my bothering Joe. Joe's very nice, but really I would rather have had you, and I told her so.'" "That wasn't all he said," remarked Dick, "but I'll let you off the rest. I'll hold it over you for future occasions." When Rattleton returned from New Haven a few days later, he announced at the table that his friend Sheffield was coming up for Class Day, with his _fiancée_. He had sent a special message to Hudson to say that they were going to bring Freddy, because Freddy was crazy to see Harvard, and Hudson had promised to show him all over college and take him into all the clubs. "Whew!" whistled Hudson; "d---- that horrid little boy." THE DAYS OF RECKONING. June, June, beautiful, glowing, fascinating June, no doubt thou art tired of hearing thy charms sung by lovers more eloquent than I, but forgive this outburst from one who has known thee in the shades of Cambridge. Never art thou more seductive than where the old walls and stately elm trees trace their cool outlines on the turf of the Yard, where the earnest, eager students, prone on the greensward, blow upon blades of grass between their thumbs, and bet on sparrow fights and caterpillar races. The tennis-courts are alive; there are ball games on Holmes' Field, and the river winding through the green-flowing meadow (the tide being high and the mud covered) is dotted with swift-gliding shells. In the long-fading twilight the bright-beflannelled and straw-behatted groups sit upon the fences, and lounge about the streets, trying to screw up enough energy to disperse to their rooms, and study for the--FINALS.