"Let me tell you the best story I ever heard, even if it is no me. This chap was one of those who think it the thing to go a-visiting the instructor, making throaty suggestions about the mark he has received. I remembered the fellow from midyears. I therefore told him, when he asked for my office house, that on such a point as this he must see the professor, who would, I knew, send him back to me. I knew, by the way, that the professor was already on his way for a sabbatical study of Chinese temples.

"The fellow caught the night plane for Chicago and was talking with the professor in Los Angeles when I sailed for Europe. He came back to a deserted Cambridge. I can just see him emptying the mailbox. Someone said he went into the automobile business."

The narrator himself joined in the laughter, as the poet turned to the man from Arkansas, and chuckled.

"Isn't he the card!"

* * *

Morning and the first meeting of the course in the second halfyear.

"Gentlemen, my invariable rule is to lower the grade of any man whom I interview about his examination." The professor beamed benevolently. "My assist ants in the course, I find, are less, shall we say, ha ha, harsh. So that if anyone cares to talk with them in the lower corridor of Sever between 5.30 and 6.45 next Saturday afternoon, he will find them not only cordial but disinterested."