He thought about it during the time occupied in splashing and spluttering at the club, and most of the time that he was shivering and whistling and putting on his ugliest sweater and oldest corduroys and most disreputable slouch hat, and his brown shooting-coat with quail blood on it. He even thought of it several times while his hands were deep down in his pockets and his shoulders were slouched forward and a pipe was in his mouth and an arm was around Jim Linton and they were floating about the campus calling hello to everybody that was back. The first thing undertaken by Lawrence, the entirely different, was the purchasing of some fine large text-books. For his foremost duty was of course toward himself. He had never bought any books since freshman year, but he knew where they were to be found, and a poler named Stacy gave him a list of the ones he required. They were all nice new copies, with the book-store smell about them. He did not like second-handed ones, and then, too, he was going to pole very hard and he might wear them out. Besides, his book bill had never been large--except in his letters--and he thought he could afford the extravagance in his senior year. He took great pleasure in writing his full name on the fly-leaf with a blotty pen, Henry Laurence Lawrence, Jr., in a flourishless hand like his father's. They made quite an imposing pile on the table, and he felt proud of it. He showed them to the fellows that dropped in that evening to say, "Glad to see you back," and ask him what he thought of Southern girls. This took until 2 A.M. So he could not attend to that other matter until the next day. He set the alarm-clock before going to bed and said, "Now, then, to-morrow I fix my freshman." He jumped out with only six hours' sleep, though he had just finished a long journey and his nerves required more rest, all to make chapel and see his freshman. He saw him. Although he said only, "How do you do?" in a serious tone, he knew that he was doing his duty, and felt so pleased with himself that he went to town that afternoon and took a Turkish bath at his place in Twenty-eighth Street--this was the only way to get the cinders out--and stole some clean linen from his brother-in-law's top bureau drawer, and dined with the family at home. Then, because he had not been with them during Christmas, and because he was to be a poler for the rest of his college course and would have few such chances, he stayed over Sunday and was given a pensum for too many unexcused absences when he came back. On Monday, however, he saw his freshman again. It was on Nassau Street. This time Lawrence said, "Hello there!" He saw him once more on Tuesday, coming out of Whig Hall, and said, "How are you, Darnell?" and smiled a little. He saluted the freshman in various ways every day but one for a week.