Casper Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 17, 1917, Page 6

i { a I ; : 4 } z] tie tt | ; { a f r ee Sa pure him, “Wee months and at the end of this HERE comes a time in the life of every young freshman who goes to school and acquires of- fices and notice and various kinds of success In his class when na- ture gives way under the strain just behind his ears, and the consequences are horrible in the extreme, I know, because I was that kind of a fresh- man and I had that kind of trouble, and I wes operated upon for it by my elders and betters. It was a success- ful operation. Most of them are, But it makes me writhe still to think of it. Of all the cruelties on this savage old earth the custom of operating upon a freshman for domus balloonicus, with- out giving him ether, is the most heart- less and Inhuman. The Humane so- clety ought to broaden its scope a very little so that it could take in freshmen and give them the protection it is lavishing on the dumb varieties of animals. Looking back from this period of riper wisdom, I can see every excuse for the freshman whose hatband breaks with a loud ernck along in the winter term. Freshmen are young— fome of them inecoanceivably young. The bones of the head, you krw, are soft and elastic in the very young. They haven't the stern resist!ng power of the older noodle cases. You take a seventeen-year-old freshman with wide sutures In his green young skull and O11 his head full of compliments and responsibilities and admiration and success; churn these all up and mix them with a few cigarettes and a little spare time in which to think about himself, and what is the result? The mess begins to ferment and put a pres- sure on the skull. And what happens then? That young chap’s head begins & expand and swell and get vast and bulbous and full of gas, and it leaks down into his conversation, and pres- ently he Is fifmly convinced that if you were to set him in the center of darkest Africa and let him talk for a few hours the monkeys would be wear- Ing dark glasses and quoting Latin. It isn’t the freshman’s fault. It’s a Msease of his youth. I have no pa- ‘ence with the people who think that when a yquig fellow of eighteen gets te ninking funny noises about himself , fad stands around on the horizon wait- ‘lng for science to come and determine his height by triangulation he Is going to be a Ufelong annoyance and ought fe be drowned like a superfluous pup- py. It isn’t the first time in his life that he has been loud and unnecessary, and if he goes Into politics it will not be the last time, Of course, he is a very great nuisance, and I am in favor of sompelling him to go around with his head in » grain sack for about six months, But he will get over it; and he has a better chance in college than anywhere else, because the upper-class men in college have studied this mat- ter and have given It their careful at- tention. Let a young man who is try- Ing to wear one of the rings of Saturn for a hathand escape from college into the world In this condition and it will Probably kick him to death trying to But leave him in school for ® tt he has not been overlooked ‘Sd has had proper care and treat- 0 he will be wearing a thimble for ® &ku)) Pap and it will be coming down o¥er tie ears at that, Before I had attended Siwash col- lege three months T had mislaid my shyness and modesty and was a roar- ing, unmitigated nuisance. When I considered what I had accomplished in those three months I felt so proud that it was difficult for even me to imagine the respect to which I was entitled. I had come to Siwash, young, unheralded, unknown, bashful, timid, ondersized and ignorant, and I had, by my own sterling worth and ability forced immediate recognition. I was president of my class. I had led the rooters through the football season and had invented four new yells. I had made the banjo club. I was mentioned for cotillion leader. I had got over my fear of strange girls and was so popular that it almost broke my heart when I took a young Indy to a party to think of the blighting disappointment that would canker in a dozen gentle bosoms. I belonged to the finest frat in college—had chosen It myself after carefully considering the merits of oth- er applicants. The president spoke to me by name. ‘The college paper joked about my in- fluence. Siwash was a better college for my coming. Of course, I was wasting my time, but I was no snob, and even if it was a little school I intended to stick to it until my junior year, any- way, and pull It up—give it some tone. And wherever I went—to Yale or Har- yard or Columbia—to finish up, I would always think kindly of Siwash and defend it. After I had reflected along these Mines for a couple of hours along about the middle of November I used to look doubtfully at a couple ef trol- poles and fold my ears back before dared to edge through between them. \ I remember, oh, how plainly, the ‘Drst little shadow that fell across my Bliss. It was tn Lit. class. I made it Curing by Suggestion GEORGE FITCH rather a point to attend thongh it was unne Suppose any professor would have dared to make trouble. Still, I was in college for the purpose, and besides, it was a bad thing for us leaders to cut classes and start that sort of business among the student body. Lit. was a ghastly bore. It was nothing but a bunch of obituaries and a boost for a lot of books on the back shelves of the Ubrarics. Beowulf was about a valu- able to me as the duke of Bucking- ham's head would have been, and I didn't care a holey sock whether Chaa- classes, sary, for I didn't cer lived in the thirteenth century or in’ hoe signo vinces. I de- clined to bone on the stuff, but it was easy to stall through it, and it was a good class,'in which to study types. There were a lot of queer folks in 1t—people who seemed to think that sort of thing was important—folks you'd never meet in the ordinary course of college life. I was sitting in Lit. class one day late in November, with my feet | stretched out, thinking rather intently on a Uttle stunt I was working up for the banjo club, when I suddenly heard a silence—funny how loud silence can be. I looked up quickly. Every was glued on me, and Professor Timmons was looking at me with a queer smile. Then I knew I had been called on. “I beg your pardon,” said I to the professor, “Did you call on me?” I was very polite and considerate. “I did,” said Professor Timmons, | still smiling. The class laughed right out. It nettled me a little, but I let it pa “What was it?” I asked. e class laughed again. Professor Timmons laughed too. “I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Simmons,” he sald, “but will you kindly tell us upon what the fame of Cowper chiefly rests?” I was perfectly frank. “I'll hanged if I know,” I said pleasantly, If the class had had any sense tt would have Inughed at my Joke as well as at the professor's. But there wasn't a giggle. Professor Timmons didn't Say anything for about ten minutes— or maybe ten seconds. Then he cleared his throat. “You haven't favored us with very much knowledge this term, Mr Sim- mons,” he said in a disquietingly quiet way. “Are you planning to re- main with me permanent ri That was all. But It finished Professor Timmons me, I didn’t open my mouth, and when be through that bunch as if been red ants. I ne mad in my life. T down before the class mons, its president cheap professor, who wasn’t anything but a cold-storage warehouse for dates. I simply bo 1, For a minute I thought of quitting school. I dropped the idea, however. It wasn't the col- le, s fault. But when I met Ashcroft, who was leader of the hanjo club, T burned that bunch up good and plenty. I told him just what I thought about the whole business. “If I hadn't been too much of a gentleman,” T stormed, “I would have shown up that old fos- sil right before his class. I would have asked him what he was doing for the coll, besides trying to flunk the students who are putting up a fight for it. But T didn’t, and it wasn’t because T was afraid of the faculty either,” That was Ashcroft's chunce to come {n with a little sympathy. But he didn't. When I had finished there was another of those stillnesses that you can almost chew up and swallow. T looked at Ashcroft. He was smil- ing in a sort of queer way. Finally he reached over and patted me—me—on they had r had bt n sO had been called me, Petey Sim- it was enough. | with | the class was dismissed I stalked ont } —cniled down by a | THE CASPER DAILY TRIBUNE would see what comes of being too | preciated it. “I'll just bid you good|than I ever had thus far in my life. darned fresh. I thought it all out and it made me good-natured. I strolled over to the side lines, carefully unconscious of the fact that every one was looking at me, | and nodding bere and there at the fel- lows of our crowd and the other se | dents whom I knew. I always made | it a point to speak to a large number | of students because I wanted to be democratic. Hogboom, the captain, | was out of practice that day with a Jame ankle and was sitting on the side | lines. I strolled over to him, pushed his hat over his eyes, kicked him in the ribs, and finally tackled him about the knees and put him down, neatly | as you please. There were seniors | who would have given their eyes to be that familiar with Hoggie. He called me a fool and told me not to twist his ankle any more than I could help. While he was picking up | his hat Beems of the Fly Gams, a senlor who was sitting near, called | over, “Say, Hogboom,” he said, | “haven't you salted your freshmen yet?” | Everybody laughed, and I saw he|: meant to insult me. I cou'd feel my- | self getting red, and it made me mad, for if there is anything I detest it is | the way my face butts in and tries to! « rdvertise my feelings. right back at Beems. “Here's one you fellows didn't get al chance to salt,” I said. Some fellow back of me snickered, but nobody laughed, and all of a sud- | den it oceurred to me that I would have given a lot more money than I had not to have said that. Nobody sald anything, and I stood around and | whistled a minute to show the whole crowd that they could go to grass, in- dividually or collectively, Just as they pleased. I turned around and walked over and examined the team’s sweat- After that I went up the fleld and looked critically at the sunset, and then I went away and walked around the town a while. I felt awfully funny —something like a cat that has killed the canary. I couldn't understand it. T was too big a man to feel that way. And yet, was I? I didn't want to go up to the house for dinner that night because I didn’t feel sociable, and I finally decided to go down to Mark Smith’s room and eat supper with him. I would have to I just shot it help get it and it would be a lot of Anyway, I hadn't seen much of} fun. Quitha, Mark for quite a while, and I didn’t want him to think I was feeling su- perior, So I bought a pie and some stuff and went up to Mark's room and told him I had come.to supper, and for him to get a big hustle on apd get it ready and I would help. We ni a nice supper and I felt better. Mark was feeling greut becnuse he had u chance at a laundry agency that would net him $4 a week and let him go to a boarding club, and we had a jolly old visit. Mark was square, anyway, and a lot more of a fellow than some of the bluejays I was trotting with. the back just as if I had been a yellow dog. “Never mind, Petey,” he sald. “We all have our brainstorms. You'll be better pretty soon.” Nice thing to hand out to a fellow, wasn’t it? I was furious. Ashcroft wasn’t so much, anyway. If I hadn't come into his old banjo club that fall it would have had hard pulling on the solo part. I just turned on my heel as conspicuously as I could and left him, I figured that about five months of cold politeness on my part would teach him a few things about courtesy. I strolled over to the football field, where the team was having final prac- tice before the Thanksgiving game, and I got sorrier for myself at every step. No matter what a fellow does in the world, he isn’t appreciated. He can work himself into the grave for his school, and the yaps who stand around and do the light yelling will kick him the first chance they get. By the time T had reached the field I had a right good notion to cease all my activities for a few months and just let the school sweat along. In fact, T decided to do it. It made me feel better. I began to picture to myself the pleas- ure I would take in explaining my rea- sons to the delegations from the banjo club and the rooters’ chorus and the freshmen class and the cotillion club. I would be just as pleasant as I could | be, but firm. And when they had wormed ne reason out of me they He had depth and understanding, and it was with perfect confidence that I told him about the insult I had gotten that afternoon, I wanted to put it up to him as strongly as I could, so I told him the whole thing—how I felt about it’ and everything. “Now,” I asked whep I had finished, “what do you think I had better do?” Mark was busy darning a sock and evidently thinking the thing over. But when I asked him he looked up. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said carelessly; “every one makes a break now and then.” *I know it,” I said eagerly. “Professor Timmons isn’t a bad fel- low,” said Mark. “No,” T said generously. real good old chap.” “If you went up to him before class tomorrow and apologized he'd laugh at the whole thing.” “Me!” IT gasped. “Apologize!” I saw it all in a flash, Mark was on the other side, too. It made me so mad in a second that I could have bitten Siwash college out of the map. I was so mad I couldn't think. I got up. “The whole bunch of you “He's a think you're pretty smart,” I said sput- | teringly, “but you can go chase your- | Selves, I'm thronzh with you.” “Too bad,” said Mark. He was laughing. Thet made me madder, if possible. 1 struck out blindly. “Ive been wasting a lot of time with, you,” I sald. “You don’t seem to have ap- “HIS YOUNG LADY FRIENDS OUGHT TO SEE HIM IN THAT RIG. MIGHT SAVE A LOT OF BROKEN HEARTS.” night.” I took my hat. I thought that would land Mark, for I was the most influ- ential friend he had. I didn’t really meun to go, at heart. But he got up and opened the door for me. “Come back when it's all over, Petey,” he said soberly, “and [ll be glad to see you.” “What's all over?” I snapped. “What's coming to you In the next few months,” he said soberly. “Oh, go to thunder!” I sald, went out. It was after ten and I was tired. I went Straight home. Four or five of the fellow® were sitting In the smok- ing-room downstairs, which was pe- culiar, because it was against the rules in study hours. When I came in they all j ed up and Saunders went to the stairs. “Here he is, “Come on down.” it down,” said Saunders to mie. “T don't want to,” I sald sullenly. “I'm going to bed.” He took me without a word and sat e on the davenport. I straggled and d him, but Hogboom and Allen » over and sat beside me. They vere on the football squad, and I was toy In their hands. The rooxn filled up with men. Suddenly I wasn't ia n chapter house with my loving and fellows,” he said. cu ay ¢ brothers. I seemed to be In a court of justice. “What's the matter? Soinebody nd?” I asked, Just to show them that i wasn’t lpressed, “Shut up, freshman,” said Saunders, » was president that year. “We don't want you to talk except when we tell you to. We're tired of you and we're going to try to Improve you a good deal so you will be fit to have uround the house.” “If you don’t want to have me around the house you don’t have to,” I said sullenly. # Saunders went over to and opened it. “Want to asked me. “It suddenly occurred to me that T was perfectly crazy to stay. But I was mighty uncomfortable where I was. “What's the matter with me?” I asked, twisting my hat around in my the door go?" he * asked Saunders. “He's fresh,” said Bailey. been one of my best friends. He had iT “He’s darned fre said Whipple, He had proposed my name to the ban- jo club. “He's so fresh that the other frats ure asking us if he lets us sleep in the house nights,” said Allen, who had been kinder to me than anyone, and who I dearly loved. “Do you hear that, freshman?” said Saunders. “They think you're fresh. Does every one here think this (point- ing at me with his thumb) is fresh?” “Yes, yes, yes,” came the answer in a thunderous chorus. Every one was against me. “Then salt him,” said Saunders se- verely. Two men brought in a saucer with Some salt in it. “Get down on your knees and lap that up,” said Saunders. “But,” I began. “He needs persuading,” said Saun- ders mildly. “Shall we persuade him?” “Yes, yes.” “Me first.” “No, me.” There was almost a row for the priv- ilege, but it was soon settled and I was persuaded. I can't bring myself to de- scribe this painful performance, It brought back my very young days viv- idly. : “Are you persuaded?” said Saunders, finally. “Yes,” I gasped with difficulty, for I had been face down for quite a while. T was released, and, getting down on my hands and knees, I lapped up the salt, while the assembly commented with awful brutality on the perform- ance, “Does it well for ggreat man, doesn't he?” “He's not a bad fellow on his hands and knees,” “Tt wili take a barrel to make him endurable.” “You wouldn't think a little runt like that could be so loud.” } There was a lot of the salt. I gurgied, and gagged, and got sick, but they didn’t seem to mind it. I finally finished it and looked up, cold sweat “Do you think that will help you?” said Saunders severely. “Yes, sir,” I said humbly. “You don't need any more?” he asked anxiously. “No,” I said, almost frantically. “I can take a hint.” “Because we've laid in a whole bar- rel,” said Saunders, “just for your use. Now, has anyone else any complaint against Simmons?” “His head is swelled,” boom, “Oh, awfully,” said Allie Bangs, who was a freshman himself, but had con- valesced early. “He's afraid to go through anything but a double door.” “He talks about ‘Us representative men,’” “He wonders if we appreciate his coming here to school.” “He patronizes the professors.” One by one they diagnosed my feel- ings so accurately that I shuddered. Never had I heard what I thonght put into words in that phonograph fashion. When the indictment was finished I wanted to take the first kick at my- self. “Are we agreed that Simmons’ head is too large?” asked Saunders finally. “We are,” was the chorus. “Then soak it,” said Saunders, » A large pall, the kind they used in sta- bles, was brought in filled with water. I was up-ended and lowered head first into this about a dozen times. Then, while I sat and coughed and wheezed and spattered water from my aching lungs and nose, Saunders addressed me severely, “Simmons,” he said, “you are re- garded as one of the college marvels. Your head is so large that the faculty doesn’t know whether you are a hu- man being or a satellite on leg You have got to reduce it about three thou- sand sizes, and we are going to heip you all we can. We won't charge you anything for our services, either. Now, what other complaints are there against Simmons?” “He dresses too loud,” said half a dozen men at once. “You can’t hear the college bell for him,” said Hogboom. “The clothiers buy horrible things and bet on him whether he'll buy them or not,” said Wilbur. “He buys shouting socks. and rolls his trousers up to show them,” said my old friend Balley. “Very well,” said Saunders, “what shall we do for it?” “Barrel, barrel,” came the answer. “Simmons, the, frat thinks you'll look better in a barrel,” said Saunders, “Just step into the other room, take off those remarks and get into the bar- rel you'll find there.” I felt my way out of the room with cries of “Hurry up!’ and “Lively, you!” chasing me. I stripped to my | underclothes and got into the barrel. |“Come out,” called Saunders, I grabbed the barrel by the edge and } came shivering into the room. s I | Stood there with perspiration stains and salt on my face, bare arms hold- ing up my costume with a deathlike grip, and half a yard of bare legs pro- truding from the lower end of the bar- rel, I awakened more enthusiasm than I had ever dreamed of creating, even in my most ambitious flights of imag- ination. Shrieks, yells and cheers, gasps, howls and hysterics came from my loving brethren. As they quieted down they began to comment on my appenurance. “Is that the way a god looks in his underwear?” “I thought he was mostly clothes.” “He looks a lot better, though, with- out that vest.” “Ty doesn’t strut as much in that barrel.” “He ought to wear it all the time. He wouldn’t be able to pound his ac- qunintances on the back,” “Nor smoke cigarettes campus.” “His young lady friends ought to see him in this rig. It might save a lot of broken hearts.” “All right, touch off the flashlight.” “Bang!” Then they let me go up to my room and put on some old clothes. I want- ed to stay there and inhale illuminat- ing gas, but when Hoghoom called to me I got out of that room in two Jumps. Somehow I couldn't bear to think of disappointing that crowd in anything they might want. When I returned there was a large blackboard in one end of the room. Saunders was standing before it. “Brothers,” said he, “have you any other fault to find with this fresh- man?" “Ee borrows clothes,” said Win- throp. “You bet he does,” snorted Bailey, who roomed with me. “T can’t keep a tle to myself ten minutes.” “That's a bad fault,” said Saunders. “It ought to be worth five.” “No, ten,” shouted Bailey. “Make it seven,” said Saunders, “Freshman, get down over Hogboom's knees.” . Seven swift, stinging slaps jarred me from truck to keelson. “What else?” asked Saunders. 4 “He makes bad jokes at the table,” sald some one. “He does, he does,” came a general roar. “Ten,” said Saunders. . “Mr. President, I protest,” shouted Allen. “T've suffered more than that myself from those jokes.” In the end I got twenty-five. were awful. They jarred my spine and my soul. They jarred tears into my eyes. I wanted to cry, but TI didn’t. I would have let them dis- member me first. “What else?” asked Saunders. “He doesn’t study. He’s said Hog- on the They on my face and feeling more miserable | ing the reputation of the frat. He'll get canned out in the winter term,” said Briggs. “We can’t cure that In one night,” said Saunders, “but we can make ea beginning; twenty-five. Freshman, why don’t you study?” I got up stiffly and swallowed about forty times. “I haven't flunked any more than most fellows,” I said in a bruised and battered little voice. “Better make it thirty-five,” said Bogboom. They did. I dug my nails into my hands and swore that if 1 cried I'd feed myself to a trolley car that night. “You can go any time you want, you know,” said Saunders after the treat- ment. © I got up and grabbed twice at Hog- boom before I could get hold of him and hang on. “I—I'm not a quitter,” I sald. “Hurrah!” said every one so sud- denly and heartily that I got gulpier than ever. . “But you're going to quit some things, aren't you?” said Saunders, “You can't spank them out of me,” I flashed. “We're not trying to,” said Saun- ders. “We're just calling your atten- tion to them. You know, we've been hinting a long time on some of them.” “You were sassy to a professor to- day,” continued Saunc after giving me plenty of chance. “Why?” “Because I was a fool, I guess.” “Give him ten,” shouted some one, “I object,” growled Hogboom. “You can't spank 2 man for telling the truth.” “If you don’t mind,” I said, “I'd like to take a few for that professor busi- ness, It will make me feel better.” So they gave them to me. They also gave me five for criticizing the food und ten for talking about my father’s bank, and a dozen for being conde scending to outsiders, and a few mis- cellaneous swats for small crimes, Then Saunders looked at me severely and pointed to the blackboard. ‘There I was, mirrored to myself—“inconsid- erate,” “a punster,” “la: “impu- dent,” “bonstful,” “condescending” and “complaining.” There was Petey Sim- mons as others saw him—the Petey Simmons whom a day before I could senreely think of without a reverent admiration for the works of nature. And as I saw the list I shrank and shrank, and dissolved and shriyeled, and fell away, and became a _ little trembling freshman with a sore and shaken body and a mind the size of a pinhead, weighed down with the task of becoming endurable and possibly enjoyable to my fellow men. I was little Petey Simmons, a green freshman who had wasted three months learning all the things he shouldn't; Petey Simmons, the college joke, the campus nuisance, the loud noise on the streets, the pest of the chapter house. I had always been Petey Simmons, an undersized con- sumer of perfectly good oxygen, but some one had patted me on the head a few months ago and it had swelled—heavens, how it had swelled. Suddenly all my grandiose doings of those insane months rose up vividly before me. I gugged at the thought of them. Oh, how sick I had been! But I was better now. The swelling was going down. Explode a dynamite bomb in almost any swelling and it will be materially reduced. “You wouldn't care to say a word, would you, freshman?” said Saunders after a long silence, I got up, very stiffly. T stammered. “I don't know enough to say anything except—except— thank you.” “Hurrah!” said every éne. Jolt was top much, I cried. Then they let me go upstairs to bed and called down Wansworth, whe was a freshman, too, and very far gone in it. The next morning he ate very little more than I did and acted like a man who had fallen 4,000,000 miles out of a blissful dream, landing very hard. But we never confided in each other. When you take a young man who is contented with himself and reduce him to the mangled remains of every- thing he had imagined himself to be, You can't expect him to recover at once. I wis quite low and miserable for a week. Every little thing: that I had stepped carefully over during my Colossus days rose up and towered above me, and kept me stretching my neck and dodging like an ant under a lodge parade. Suddenly Siwash was “T guess not,” That a mighty college again, as it had been when I was in high school, and it was full of busi- nesslike young giants who would have to be encouraged to tolerate me. But finally I did something that made me feel better. It was lonely around the house—not because the boys. wouldn't notice me, but because I had to keep so quiet to keep them from doing it. So I put on my hat about nine one evening and went down to Mark Smith's room. I knocked timid- ly. Two weeks before I would have kicked the door in. “Come in,” said Mark. I edged in cautiously and said “Hel-. lo.” . I went all the way in and stood waiting. Nothing happened. Hine “I'm back again,” T said finally. “So soon?” said Mark. ~ “Yes,” I said, “it's happened.” “What's happened?" cf “What was coming to me.” “oh!” ¢ i I edged over to a chair and sat down: = “Sure it’s a cure?” asked Mark sus “Say,” I remarked with emphesis.. “If you see any signs’ of it pack, will you Kindly take a baseball, bat and flatten it?” 4 you got: “Yep,” said Mark. “Have your Livy pounded out?” : Lopyright.)