Within two minutes Lawrence was joined by a score of fellows who danced with him about the cannon, yelled "Fresh fier-r-r! Heads out!" until they had brought everyone out they could, then called "Leg pull. All over!" and ran back to their rooms again, feeling that they had done their duty. Windows slammed shut again. A voice from down in Edwards Hall answered "All over!" Every one went on where he left off. All felt refreshed and strengthened for their duties, and Lawrence leaned alone against the cannon. But he too felt better. He decided that this was a species of Providential interposition, a sort of vision as it were, the interpretation of which was that any man who would allow a little fool freshman to destroy the happiness of the culminating year of the best period of life in the dearest spot on earth would be an unmitigated ass. He now fell to distracting his mind with work and other things, and realized the beauty of existence, as all undergraduates should. Besides the beauty of existence there were others that he was in the habit of dwelling upon during sunset rambles through the woods down toward the canal; pretty little foolish thoughts which young men who are still students and have yet to choose an occupation have no business in thinking. But the way her hair swept back from that brow of hers on either side of the chaste part and then swirled-- But that will do. Lawrence and his affairs already occupy too much space. And as suddenly as they were interrupted in that paragraph were his walking-time thoughts cut short whenever that confounded freshman loomed up with an arm about the Thompson boy, followed by a brindle bull-dog and a trail of cigarette-smoke. II Gussie Thompson was an angel-faced child with pretty ringlety hair, and he had come to college from a strict boarding-school with the intention of making a bad man of himself. And when a boy wants badly to go to the devil there is no reason why he should find it very difficult. In this thought I find I have been anticipated by Virgil. But though the descent is easy it does not follow that it is always graceful. Thompson, who was conscientiously trying to do it properly, had his discouragements and sour balls just as often as the poler who sat in the next seat and wore trousers that were too short. People persistently considered Gussie disgustingly good, when in reality he was very bad and smoked big black cigars with red and gilt bands about them. And indeed it is discouraging to walk down to the football practice with the gang, breathing cigarette-smoke at every fifth step, and then have some class-mate you have nothing to do with ask you, before all the fellows, to lead class prayer-meeting the next Sunday. But all that was over long ago.