formidable array of faculty and
faculty wives waiting to receive me, I should have beaten a precipitate
retreat. I had never before been received; I had never before been a
guest at any formal social function, and it was appalling to have to
charge this battery of solemn eyes. But there was no escape. Boller
pushed me into the hands of Doctor Todd, who gave another hearty
handshake to the thirty-ninth and presented him to Mrs. Todd. She
assured me that it was a great pleasure to meet me, a statement
entirely at variance with the severity of her countenance and the
promptness with which she passed me on to Professor Ruffle, who
combined the chair of modern languages with the business management of
the college. He with a dexterous twist consigned me to his good lady,
and thus I passed from hand to hand down the dreaded line.

The ordeal was over. I had had my baptism of social fire. Fear left
me, but not embarrassment. I forgot that thirty-eight other young men
were being received and were undergoing numberless bewildering
introductions. It seemed that the whole college was there simply to
meet me, and I returned its greeting in a daze. If I lost Boller in
the press, I felt the need of his supporting arm and peered longingly
among the jostling crowd to find him. He was continually going and
coming, but he never forgot me for any time. He was wonderfully kind
about informing as to whom it was worth my while to be agreeable. . . .
Don't trouble with Brown; be pleasant to Jones, but look out for
Robinson, the fellow with a Kappa Iota Omega pin. He had hardly warned
me against Robinson, before that young man was addressing me with great
cheerfulness. I saw nothing whatever repulsive about him; but to
Boller I was evidently in danger.

"There's a young lady here who is dying to meet you," he whispered in
my ear as he drew me from the sinister clutches.

Oh, subtle flattery! This was the first time I had ever had a young
lady dying to meet me. Of course I understood that Boller had spoken
figuratively, and yet I did not question that the young lady had seen
me, and I was vain enough to hold it not at all unlikely that something
in my appearance had interested her. Had not vanity overcome my
embarrassment, curiosity would have done so. I wanted to see what she
was like who had been so affected by the sight of me. And when I did
see her, when I stood before her on shifting feet, I would have given
the world