her hands on Halleck's shoulders; a small,
sandy-haired girl with blazing eyes.
"Untie him, you great brutes!"
The man with the rope stared at her irresolutely, furtively slipping the
knot tighter. By this time, Halleck was on his feet again and had
recovered from his surprise.
"Excuse me," he began.
The girl looked him in the eye.
"Get that rope off!"
She was just a little thing, but her gaze never wavered. The direct gaze
is something that wild beasts and bullies, Freshmen or otherwise, cannot
bear. Pete Halleck looked around for moral support, but his men were
shame-faced and the bleachers were silent. He bent down and slipped the
rope off Smith's feet.
With the rout of their leader the whole fighting class, weighing some
ten tons in battle trim, vanished like chaff before the spirit of one
Freshie co-ed. By twos and threes they slouched away, trying to look
unconcerned.
She turned to the man she had rescued.
"Are you much hurt, Mr. Smith?" she asked, her voice sweet with
sympathy.
The Sophomore president stood there, rumpled, winded, flaming with
embarrassment. Away up on the bleachers a girl in an Easter hat tittered
and a general laugh followed. That laugh brought Smith to himself, but,
before he could turn to thank her, Hannah, with a swift, frightened
glance at the people, had fled to the Quadrangle. With swelling bosom
and eyes stinging with restrained tears she leaned her face against a
cool pillar and watched the swallows circle mistily about the red
tiling.
People, coming from the ball-ground, passed her, unnoticed in the
shadow. A man's voice, ringing with merriment, cried:
"Poor old Captain! I never saw him have such a chap. It's pretty hard on
a man to have a girl do the Pocahontas act like that!"
A peal of Roble laughter answered.
"Pocahontas! O--oh, that's a cute name for her!"
HIS UNCLE'S WILL.
His Uncle's Will.
"It's a wise child that resembles its richest relative."
MODERN PROVERB.
Walter Olcott Haviland came to Stanford in September at the age of
eighteen, and was rushed by the fraternities.
There is nothing remarkable about this, unless considered from
Haviland's point of view. With his High School pin illuminating the vest
on which a mystic Greek symbol was ere long to shine, he passed down the
line of inquisitive Sophomores in Encina lobby, and into the Den of the
Bear, presented his receipt f
|