Robbins turned red and the raised cup trembled in his hand. What a frightful mistake he had made. How stupid he must have appeared not to have known the famous football player. "I-I-I-beg your pardon, Mr. Hawley," he stuttered. "Don't mention it. Davis and I have agreed to disagree on the subject of football. You would not think from the way that he speaks of my cinches that if it had not been for him they would have numbered three and not two. Yes, and but for Miss Gray here (indicating Rawson's young lady) I surely would have had another one in conics," and he seemed to enjoy the recital of what, to Davis, was a tale of shame. "But you must consider," began Miss Gray, looking up, "that the faculty asks too much of the athletes. From the president down they say that athletics are a good thing. They also admit that it is through the few picked athletes that the other students are stimulated. And they come to the games and shout as loudly and feel as proud as anybody. Yet, when a man takes upon himself all the hard work of training spends four or five hours a day for the benefit of the college-the faculty turns about and sets up a higher standard of scholarship for him than for an ordinary student. He must not have more than seven hours of conditions. There is no such restriction placed upon the bum on North Hall steps. Don't you think it is a little inconsistent, Mr. Davis?" "Thank you, Miss Gray," spoke up Hawley. "I now feel amply vindicated and my self-respect is quite restored." In the interval, little Robbins' poise returned and he plied Hawley with a perfect volley of questions during the rest of the meal, to the utter neglect of his chops and hot cakes. His morning duties over, James picked up his notebook, and, with a blithe heart, stepped up the campus to his first recitation. The days now began to repeat themselves with uniformity as Rawson fell into his work. He was entering upon a new world and every moment had its charm. He sprang to his duties with eagerness which did not abate before the drudgery that took up almost half the day. He was up with the midsummer sun and did not turn his lamp out until ten or eleven at night. But between these hours he had a few free periods, when he did a little wholesome lounging, made acquaintances, and found out college manners and customs. On this point, he was at a disadvantage, compared with most of the other freshmen, who had come from secondary schools. They had, to begin with, quite a circle of friends of former school days, not only those who had come in with them, but also such as had preceded them from the same schools. Then, they had talked over college affairs so much in their "prep" days that matters of form and those infinite "red tape" details which confront a student at every step in his freshman year were somewhat familiar to them. But Rawson was working off his handicap every day, making acquaintances with other members of his class on campus and in recitation rooms. It is not hard to make friends at California. "Say, how do you work this problem?" or "Have you got your English?" is all the introduction necessary. Sophomores, juniors and seniors all looked alike to James at first. A regularly "prepped" freshman would never have dared to do what he had done in the armory. He did not feel the other freshmen's diffidence about approaching upper classmen. He had the country way of saying "good morning" to everybody he met. And many an upper classman who would have passed a "kid freshie" unnoticed (Rawson, let it be noted, was about five years older than the average freshman) unbent to James. As for the freshman-sophomore "mutual disregard " that plays so large a part in the first two years at college, Rawson was amused by it, because he could not understand it. However, he was soon to be enlightened on this point. Rawson's busiest days were Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. On each of these he had four recitations, besides drill and gymnasium. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays he had but one hour of recitation. In classroom, James took matters almost too earnestly. He gave his undivided attention to the instructor, because that, thought he, was what they were both there for. His chair remained unadorned by initials or class number. His hand was first and invariably up if a question were asked. In his English course the young instructor noticed this before the week was out, and, glad to have somebody to talk to who seemed well awake in the lazy atmosphere, he fell into the habit of speaking straight at James. Most of the new freshmen held the Minto course for a bore, because there was too much "digging" attached to it. James took actual pleasure in this. It was something to grapple with. Physics was opening up an entirely new world to him-the world he lived in. German, too, was something entirely |