h some other fellow mean anything more to Her
than charity. He gets cold chills every time he reflects that at any
minute a member of some royal family may pass by and notice Her, and
that he will have to promote international spasms by hashing him. He
realizes that he has misspent his life; that football is a boy business;
that frats are foolish, and that there ought to be a law giving every
college graduate a job paying at least two thousand dollars a year on
graduation. He is nervous, feverish, depressed, inspired, anxious,
oblivious, glorified, annihilated, encouraged and all cluttered up with
emotion. The planet was invented for the purpose of letting Her dig Her
number three heels into it on spring afternoons. Sunshine is important
because Her hair looks better with the light on it. Every time She
frowns the weather bureau hangs out a tornado signal, and every time She
smiles somebody puts a light-blue sash around the horizon and a double
row of million-candle-power calcium lights clear down the future, as far
as he can see.

That's what love does to a college boy in spring. It's a kind of
rose-colored brainstorm, but it very seldom has complications. By the
next fall, the ozone is out of the air; and after a couple has gone
strolling about twice, football and the sorority rushes butt in--and
it's all over. Freshman girls are a help, too. Beats all how much
assistance a Freshman girl can be in forgetting a Senior girl who isn't
on the premises! Even in the spring-fever period we didn't get engaged
to any extent. The nearest I ever came to it was to ask the light of my
life for ninety-several if she would wear my frat pin forever and ever
until next fall. And, let me tell you, there wasn't any local of the
Handholders' Union on the Siwash Campus. That's another place where you
soubrette worriers have us figured out wrong. Rushing a Siwash girl was
about as distant a proposition for us as trying to snuggle up to the
planets in the telescopic astronomy course. For cool, pleasant and
skillful unapproachability, a co-ed girl breaks all records. We just
worshiped them as higher beings, and I find that a lot of Siwash boys
who have married Siwash girls are still a little bit dazed about the
whole affair. They can't figure how they ever had the nerve to start
real businesslike negotiations.

This very high-class insulation in our love affairs caused us fellows a
lot of woe once in a while. You never could tell whether or