Harvard University -- Fiction; Love stories; Plantations -- Virginia -- Fiction; Youth -- Fiction
His musings were suddenly interrupted by a burst of long-drawn
“A-a-ays,” that soft, exhaled applause peculiar to college men. Then
the cheers burst forth again, and the fellow on his left, a fellow whom
he had never seen before, brought his hand down with a resounding smack
on Phillip’s knee; and then, instead of apologizing, only smiled and
nodded; and Phillip smiled back as though it was quite the most natural
thing in the world. After the speeches were finished the band had its
innings, and the junior who had borne the crimson megaphone in the
march to the field climbed onto the platform and told them earnestly
that the singing had got to be improved and that they would start off
with “Glory for the Crimson,” and please wouldn’t every fellow learn
all the songs by heart? And every fellow declared loudly that he would;
and the band struck up, the leader waved his hands and the assembly
broke forth into:
“Raise the Crimson ensign to the place it held of yore!
In the loyal spirit that shall live forevermore!
The sun will set in Crimson as the sun has set before!
For this is Harvard’s day!”
After it was all over, after they had stood and sung “Fair Harvard”
through――most of them repeating the words of the first verse over and
over, for the reason that it is a matter of precedent never to know
anything but the first verse――after he had dropped Guy in the square,
Phillip went home and, seizing pen and paper impatiently, told “Dear
little Mamma and Margey” all about it.
CHAPTER X
Under a leaden sky, buffeted by an icy wind from the east, some
thirty-four thousand persons huddled upon the towering stands that
completely inclosed the field, shivering under coats and rugs and
furs, stamping their chilled feet, and all the while, in the manner of
Anglo-Americans, laughing at physical discomfort so long as athletic
prowess was the reward.
The bare, unlovely expanses of yellow pine boards were no longer
visible. From the gridiron the sloping banks of humanity might, for all
evidence the eye could obtain, have hidden tiers of marble seats like
some huge amphitheatre of old. The effect was of substantiality and
permanence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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