The Portland daily press., 1894-01-22
A COLLEGE STORY.

slue SIreetS OIL new maven. Els Iuli naLn6,
as it appeared in the catalogue of the uni
versity, was George Ellis Wilson of Smith
vile, Pa. He had just eaten supper at the
commons, and leaving the other fellows
had hurried down the walk between the
old brick row. and the new dormitories,
across the busy streets and down this lit
tie lane till he came to dimly lighted
secondhand book store Here he stopped
and looked in the windows They were
filed with old books, with surprisingly low
prices pinned on them. and steel engrav-
ings of Washington and Jefferson that
doubtless had been the pride of some patri-
cite home, but now looked fyspecked and
bedraggled enough After pausing at the
threshold long enough to shake the snow
from his coat he entered. Out from be-
hind the stacks of books that filled the rear
of the store came little man with long
beard, round shoulders and very old and
dusty coat that came down below his
knees.
'sHow do you do, sir? A stormy even
ing" he said to Wilson as he climbed
upon chair to turn the gas little higher.
Every" replied Wilson, and without
more ado began to examine the books
around him. They were stacked up in
the -eatest confusion. Bookcases were
full, drawers were full, and great piles
in the corners reached almost to the
ceiling. The air of the room had the
EST odor peculiar to old books, and
the little old man who kept the. store
seemed to have absorbed some of the mus
ty learning of the shop, such a scholarly
stoop did he have and SO dusty were his
clothes An effort had been made to sort
some of the books, and over several shelves
was hung the label Religious, - and over
some others ''Greek and Latin,'' while in
the extreme corner were Transitions.
Wilson eyed these last suspiciously, for
he had "boned'' his way through prepar-
atory SCHOOL, and he had made up his
mind It to 'thorse" through college.
Turning to the Latin books, he looked
them through till he came to copy #
Horace, somewhat the worse for wear, bat
still serviceable. The little old man mean
while was trying to bring some order out
of confused heap Of magazines piled upon
the floor. Wilson glanced over the pages of
the Horace, and deciding that it would an
swer his purpose paid the old man 35 cents,
put tho book in his pocket and went out
into the street. Going back to his room
in ssNorth Middle he took off his coat
anu LuI6N H Oh a CudlT, Will GuC IlOEdCC
still in the pocket. The next morning he
got up late, and in his hurry to get to
breakfast put on the coat just as he had
left it the night before. At chapel, how
ever, during the long prayer, while the
president was imploring blessings for the
heathen in all lands under which head
Wilson would have little thought him
self included, he pulled out the Horace
ON ,,4
two of the initials of the former owner,
W. B., and his class, '55 The last name
had been carefully scratched out Up in
the corner there was note, evidently writ
ten during some recitation 80 years before,
"Can you tutor me an hour in trig. tomor-
row." By the time that Wilson had OBJ
served this much the prayer was ended,
and the presiden. was walking down the
middle aisle, while the seniors, in accord
ance with custom handed down from
long ago, were making prodigious bows as
he passed and falling in unceremoniously
behind him.
Pocketing the hook, Wilson returned to
his roori, ana alter a few preliminaries
began to geS ready to study He put on
his slippers and study coat pulled out
Latin dictionary and opened it, and then
f'~AAo
lay and got his Horace Then he put his
feet : :, tie table and was ready for work.
The lesson assigned was the first two odes.
No one can study book, however, until
he hes thumbed it over and over and made
himself familiar with it. The first thing
Wilson did, therefore, was to glance over
the pages OF his Horace and see what sort
of fellow its former owner was. On the
fifth pocr ho +ba+
ed his attention Written in mans hand
in rather small characters, as though the
writer would not have it too public, and
on the inner page of tho leaf was the name
MARY" Smiling TO himself, Wilson turn
s on. Nothing else noteworthy appeared
till he came to what was evidently very
difficult passage On the fifty-first page, for
the leaf was badly worn and soiled, and
written in the same hand as before were
the names "Mollie" and s'Mame.n sGet-
ting more familiar evidently" solilo-
quized Wilson as he turned on He found
no more writing, however, except an &C.
casional repetition of these names and now
and then the meaning of word written
in between the lines.
Wilson turned to the first ode and work.
ed steadily over the dictionary for two
hours. Then be kicked his slippers across
the room, threw the study coat on the bed.
and pulling on his shoes and coat started
for the recitation room. The professor was
William B. Henderson, but the boys al
ways called him Billie behind his back
and occasionally some one made a slip and
called him Billie to ass face. He was very
serious, seldom known to smile and reg
ular ''grinder." Stories were abundant
about some love affair that he had while
a student at Yale, and of girl whom he
had been engaged to who left Eiln for
weather. man and a trip to Europe But
stories about college professors ara COM
mon, and no one pays much attention to
them No GIG supposed that Billie Hen
derson could ever have thought much of
anything except Latin.
The men were seated in tie recitation
room Alphabetically and Wilson had a
back seat More than once he found cause
TO hs thankful that his name began with