The lower floor, in the east wing of Therenton Hall, at the Seminary, was devoted to social purposes. It was the meeting-place of the students immediately after supper, where all sorts of recreations were indulged. A song, a piano solo, a burlesque, or a bit of clever mimicry was usually in order in that place. It was ostensibly a reading-room, where, on the tables, were to be found magazines of interest to theological students. It was in this room where our freak visitors came to describe to us their specialties: men who came and tried to woo us from study to strange, emotional cults; men who came and told us, to our faces, with prophetic fearlessness of consequences, that by our alignment to the Seminary, and to _any_ institution of learning, we were making ourselves heretics and outcasts. One evening, at the supper table, in Commons, Bobbett announced that “Professor Hoyle, a fellow that feels bumps, a phrenologist, would be in the reading-room, ready to read our capabilities, our faults, and our destinies for twenty-five cents a head, special price to theological students from the usual fifty-cent rate. No satisfaction, no pay!” Town lassies, in medieval Europe, never flocked to palm-reader or card-turner, with more curiosity or “pooh-poohing,” than did we. On the way through the yard, the same critical faculties which we had brought to bear on “hallucinations” and “superstitions” in our studies of psychology and savage religions were brought to bear upon our impending interview with “Professor Hoyle.” Certainly the majority of us, by the time we had entered the parlor, were there on account of no other emotion than the wish to bring to bear on this man’s acts our trained, critical, scientific acumen; though it cost us twenty-five cents! The “professor” was waiting for us, a tall, slightly stooped, well-dressed young man. He made no claims, no speech. He merely said, “Come up, one following another, and after I have examined you and made a note of my findings, I will write out each one’s report on paper and if it does not suit, why none need pay.”