On top of the hill, just before entering the campus, some fraternity houses, lavishly appointed, had their verandahs filled with students, singing snatches of songs and bantering one another. Then there flashed into view again, the campus and the business street, only on this occasion it was a far different campus and a very different business street from what I had seen on my previous visit. The sidewalks were thronged with students, some leaning against shop windows, others sitting on steps, while others roamed along engaged in conversation. On the campus, keeping to the paths, were groups of Freshmen walking timidly enough past Sophomores in sweaters and negligee attire and past Seniors in graver dress and mien. On the front lawn of a dormitory four neatly-dressed youths were beating rugs and as their energetic actions continued they were half smothered in the clouds of dust. “I should imagine that they would don rougher clothes while they dust rugs,” I commented to the Senior. My companion smiled, knowingly, “They have no chance to change clothes,” he replied. “They are Freshmen which some of the upper-classmen have picked up from the campus and compelled to do that work. It will be the Freshmen’s turn, next year, however, so that it isn’t much of an imposition. Now you’ll see some fun. Watch that football man with the sweater!” The football man in the sweater had come out of the dormitory and had gone over to the Freshman who was working more energetically than his fellows, and said to him, “Say, Freshie, what’re you sleeping on the job like that for, eh? Do you want the Sophs. to give you a black mark so soon?” He glared with mock savagery at the bewildered Freshman, who replied, “Please sir, I am working very hard, sir!” “If you call that work, then,” stormed the football man, “I wonder what you do when you loaf? Die probably, eh?” “I thought, sir--” persisted the Freshman, but he was cut short by the football man who said, “Just carry that up to my room, put it straight, set the furniture in place, and then go to work and copy those marked extracts from the coach’s note-book which you’ll find on the desk. Hurry and have it done in two hours’ time!” As the football man ended those savage orders, he turned away with an amused smile and as he came towards us he winked and said to the Senior, “That young cuss’s got the making of a fine kid in him, even if he is the son of a several hundred thousand dollar Senator. Just watch him make the dust fly! Ain’t he a peacherino, though!” The Senior informed me, after the football man had strolled away, that the fagging was in full force just then and that the Freshmen took it in good humor, and, in fact, would have considered themselves not actually at college had that feature been omitted.