Ah, June, that is the one worm i' the bud of thy beauty! It is hard, indeed, to eschew the racquet and the oar; to go over to the Library at an early hour and hunt up Story on the _Constitution_, or Dana's _Wheaton_, or Ruskin's _Stones_; to find it seized, and promised to five other men before yourself; to seek a retired alcove less hot than the rest of the drowsy place, and there, taking off your coat, to doze over a volume until four o'clock, when the reserved books may be taken out; then to carry a huge book over to your room, and with an awakening cigar, grind until dinner-time; to go at it again in the evening when the scent of early summer drifts through the open window, together with the singing and laughter of some inconsiderate jackass who has finished his examinations, or does not care whether he gets through them or not. Hard is all this, but still, oh, June, I would woo thee again in those shades even in that wise; for, perchance, I might finish my examinations early and then would I enjoy life to its fullest, and make it miserable for my less fortunate friends. I would join with those who had also finished their work, and we would have a grand reaction. We would urge the others to join us on the river and the tennis-courts; we would sing in the Yard of evenings, and the free would put their heads out of window and cry "More! More!!" while the still grinding slaves would cry "Shut up!" and other things that I should grieve to hear and will not state; and if haply we sat upon the steps of Matthews or of Holworthy, or any where within range, these same scurvy slaves would throw pitchers of water and other things, even eggs kept for the purpose, until we untrammelled souls betook ourselves elsewhere. Then would we go to the "pop" concert, or the Howard Athenæum, or other abode of intellectual rest; and after that we would sup with great mirth. We would found a recuperating club for weary minds, and as each friend threw off the yoke and joined us, we would receive him with becoming ceremonies. Oh! the last week before Class Day is well worth the pains of the other three. "What is so rare as a day in June!" carolled Hudson joyfully, as he danced into his room and thumped Burleigh on the back. "One in February," growled that portly gentleman, "there are two less of 'em in the year. Now look here; if you are going to kick up a row because you are all through, just get out of here, and make your ill-timed noise somewhere else." "Don't be so sour. Hullo, Lazy Jack; these be hard times for you, old Butterfly. How many more have you got?" "Five," sighed Jack. "Pol. Econ. 23, Fine Arts, Freshman English, and two entrance conditions." "Great Scott! The way of the transgressor _is_ hard." "Clear out of here," commanded Burleigh. "I am coaching this man Rattleton, and I don't want any interruption in my private tutoring. Get out," and Ned hove a dictionary at his exuberant room-mate.