Snorky's worst forebodings were realized. Nuisance earned his title a hundredfold within the week. Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan had been fresh, was fresh and would freshen more, but Dennis was amusing and added to the gayety of nations. Nuisance was what his name implied, simply intolerable. You stumbled over him and you bumped into him. When state secrets were being discussed in whispers, Nuisance was always within earshot. He was the extra, the intruder, the tail to the kite. He did not actively offend against the traditions which govern freshmen in the incubator period. He was too clever for that. He had submitted to the mild hazing with a cheerfulness which robbed it of all its sting. He had climbed water towers and sung appropriate hymns. He had sat in washbasins and gravely pulled imaginary miles against the toothpicks furnished him as oars. He had submitted to the pi's as they came with a full recognition that the second and third men in the mounting heap were extremely more uncomfortable than himself with a mattress for a vis-a-vis. He was not insubordinate--he was just a nuisance. But if he kept skilfully within the letter of the law so far as the rest of the house was concerned he was irrepressible once in the company of Skippy. Nothing that Skippy could do could chill his affection or bring him to a proper realization of the deference which should mark the manner of a freshman towards one of the lords of the earth. "Nuisance is like a wet muddy Newfoundland pup that wants to live in your lap," said Snorky at the end of the second week. "Some day," said Skippy shaking his head, "my worse nature is going to rise up and get the better of me." "I hope I see it!" said Snorky enthusiastically. "Of course I'll have to hold in until after Thanksgiving," said Skippy disconsolately. "What? Oh, naturally." CHAPTER XL REALITY MINUS HIPPO THANKSGIVING over, Snorky confidently waited the explosion. "Skippy's going to the bad," he said to Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan. "He's nervous, he's fidgety, he talks in his sleep. There's no living with him." "Some day it'll come," said Dennis cheerfully. "Some day there'll be a bang-up, two by two procession, slow music, flowers omitted; and right on a nice green shutter will be stretched our Sister's darling boy." "Well, I'm getting tired of waiting." "Keep hoping," said Dennis wisely. "Human nature is human nature. Say, look at that!" Across the campus came Skippy, fists sunk in his pockets, hat-brim down, stalking rapidly, and at his heels the irrepressible Nuisance. "It's shocking," said Snorky, "poor old Skippy!" "That's what love means," said Finnegan contemptuously. "Do you know what he reminds me of? A poor lonely cur going down the road with a tin can tied to his tail." "Hello, Skippy," said Snorky sadly. Skippy looked at them and grunted. At this moment Nuisance caught him by the arm. "Say, old chap, what are you going to do now?"