six books. I saw geographies, spellers, Ella Wheeler Wilcox's
poems, Science and Health, and the Congressional Record. Learning was
just naturally rampant out there. Students were studying on the fence.
They were walking up and down the campus "boning" furiously. They were
even studying in the trees. You get fifty college boys to turn actors
for a day and you will see some mighty mixed results. There was "Bay"
Sanderson, for instance. "Bay's" idea of being a wild and Western
student was to sit on the front gate with a long knife stuck in his
belt and read detective stories. He did it all through the performance,
and whenever the guest was led past him he would turn the book down
carefully, pull the knife out of his belt and whoop three times as
solemn as a judge.

You never saw any one so interested as the Reverend Ponsonby Diggs. His
eyes stuck out like incandescent globes. He had been pretty well jolted
up, and he yelled in a low, polite way every time he made a quick
movement, but his thirst for information was still vigorous. As head
host Petey was pumpee, and he was always four laps ahead of the job.

"Eh, I say," said Pubby, after surveying the scene for a few minutes.
"This is all very interesting, you know. But what a little place!"

"Hell, Reverend," said Petey emphatically, "she's the biggest school in
the world."

The Reverend was a man of guile. He didn't bat an eye.

"How many students has the college?" he inquired.

"We've got a hundred, all studying books and learning things," said
Petey proudly.

"Reahly, now?" said the Reverend; "I say, reahly? And these cows! Might
I ask if these cows are a part of the college?"

"Sure thing," said Petey. "Sophomore roping class uses 'em. Great class
to watch."

"I say now, this is extraordinary," said the Reverend. "You don't mean
to tell me you tie up cows?"

"Rope 'em and tie 'em and brand 'em," said Petey. "What's college for if
it ain't to learn you things?"

"I say now, this is extraordinary," said the Reverend. I gave him four
more "extraordinaries" before I did something violent. He'd used two
hundred that morning. "Might I see the class at work?" he inquired.

Petey didn't even hesitate. "Sorry, Reverend," says he. "But the
Professor of Roping and Branding has been drunk for a week. Class ain't
working now."

The college bell tapped three times. "That's cleaning-up bell," said
Petey.

"Oh, I say now," said the Reverend, hauling out his notebo