o longer able to repress
his rising indignation, "that, though I steadily improved in my class
work, and then passed the examination, in spite of it all you are going
to give me a condition because according to your figures I am still one
point below?"

"Most certainly."

"And I'll have to take another exam?"

"Precisely."

"Good evening, professor," said Will, rising abruptly.

There was nothing more to be said, and he felt that it would be wise to
withdraw from the professor's presence before, in his indignation, he
should say something he was certain to regret. When, however, he
returned to his own room, there the flood tides of his wrath broke
loose. He related the interview to Foster, and bitterly declared that if
a smaller specimen of a man could be found with a microscope he thought
he would be willing to spend his days and nights searching for him.
There was neither justice nor fairness in it. He had improved steadily,
even Splinter acknowledged that he had, and had passed the required
exam, and yet for the sake of the professor's pettiness and the red tape
of the college rules he must take another, and then if he should pass
_that_ he would be all right. Bah! Greek was bad enough, but Splinter
was worse. What kind of a man was he to put in charge of a lot of
fellows with live blood in their veins, he'd like to know. For his part
he wished he was out of it. Such things might do for kids, but it was
too contemptible to think of for college students.

Foster wisely waited till the outburst had been ended and then said,
"Well, Will, you're up against it, whatever you say. What are you going
to do about it?"

"Do about it? I'm going to pass that exam. There isn't any other way
out. I've got to do it! but that doesn't make it any nicer for me, does
it?"

"Splinter's here and is likely to stay. And if you and I are going to
stay too, I suppose we'll have to come to his tune."

"I fancy--you should hear Splinter say that."

"Say what?"

"'Fancy,' only he calls it 'fawncy'. I 'fawncy' my father is dead right
when he says that I'll find a splinter everywhere and just as long as I
live; but I don't believe I'll ever find one as bad as this one is."

"He may be worse. Don't you remember that little bit of Eugene Field's
verse where he tells how when he was a boy he was sliding down hill with
some other little chaps in front of the deacon's house? And how their
yelling annoyed the deacon till at last he came