Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1895-05-18
A FRESH PROFESSOR.

I WIS an undergraduate and he was
don of Exham college, Oxford We both
bore the same name - Unwin-.Jones
Why Dame Fate should have gifted two
such antitheses with similar names, why
she should have brought us to one and
the same college is inscrutable. / do not
upbraid 1 thank her from the bottom
Of my heart. forget the fraycd shirts,
"dickeys" and antediluvian collars Of
Don Jones that the laundress fathered ON
me. l DO not regret my wines, but not
the bills therefor, that went to his cellar
instead of to my humble cupboard.
forgive the torn envelopes in ladies'
hands marked mot for Professor Jones"
everything, and why?
1t was sunny afternoon in the merry
month Of May as l returned at 5 o'clock,
in flannels and blazer, from an hours
Tagging at the cricket nets, and tripped
up tho stairs of my 'digs," that over
looked the dear old college gardens,
whistling "Oh, Phyllis Mine" I burst
open the door, and - "Are visions
about?" came the lightning thought, rs
l saw, seated in the armchair by my
window, gazing out ON the glories of the
horse chestnuts opposite, one of the-no!
the wide subsequent events )--most
charming little girls I have ever seen!
BY the side of the armchair was lee
ture note book, and what I knew only
too we'll to be Herr Crammer's Latin
Prose" She rose, bowed deferentially,
and somewhat nervously began: "Oh,
Professor Jones, am so sorry 1 am late!
Mr.. Boothby of Gamaliel said he hadn't
time to look over my prose, and asked
me to bring it to you at 40, and said,
as you sometimes took his work, you
would correct it for me. I"
saw it all, or rather I saw nothing
but her-slim, petite, with stray strands
of nut brown hair peeping from beneath
a dainty straw hat trimmed with mar
guerites The porter had directed her to
my rooms instead of to those of the pro-
fessor Il gave him q sovereign at the end
of term). One more to the long list of
mistaken Identities, but worth them all
Should undeceive her? And 1 thought
of the dryasdust Jones. He was the sea
monster, was Perseus, and she was
Andromeda. ga thousand times no"
said my heart. 1 shall be professor
for 80 minutes! With all of him could
muster, and re-enforced by my gold rim
med pince nez-
"Ahl-er-let me see, what-or-is
your name?"
ETHEL Mayner" said Ethel-red, for
the rosy hue had mounted to her cheek,
as it did to Virgil's Venus, "I'm-I IN
one of Mr.. Boothby's extension pu-
pills"
"Of course, )" said and looked pro-
fessorially at card picked up, 'here' S
your name"
1t was card Of the XL's summer
term fixtures. mwardly l vowed it
would be more extension" than "lcc-
ture." " But did she think l was pro-
fessor? Could she not see my chin, in
nocent Of razor--the galaxy of London
actresses on my mantelpiece, the hunt
ing sketches, my bat Oh the table, the
s!..hons cheek by jowl with McTavish Is
"hest:" Did professors play banjos and
whistle "Oh, Phyllis Nine" as they
bounded up to unravel the mysteries OF
"Oratio Obliqua" with fair pupils?
t;ilcd surinise and lived only in the
present and the sunshine of-Ethel. She
resumed her seat, and l rang the bell
Up came the landlady.
"Brirg up tea for two, Mrs. Grabbs, "
,, l said, land send out for the best cake
, BuGlns have i'll the show--i-er-mean
the premises. "
, ooh, professor, sho interposed
"plcase don't trouble about tea for me .
I Madam L rejoined, 'we cannot
discuss the position Of Caesar i'll winter
quarters or that plebeian bricklayel
Balbus without some light refreshment
: Come, Let us commence. Bring you
1, chair up to the table. (Oh, how bruta
s Of mel And would have carried il
q miles for her dear sake, but was /
professor And she drew her chair 81
;, close to mine that l could almost
+ Page 21, grunted, with beating
: heart, for / knew that the sentences
s were plain sailing till about page 80.
:. "Oh, no." she said, "I'm at pag'
210r"
My heart sank, at least such of it a
was not in my mouth. How could
9 twice plowed fresher essay the snare
and pitfalls of page 210?
4 1.-THE passage begins," she contin
/, ued, THE rotation of crops and end
ut rustic simplicity. +"
1t was hopeless. She, Ethel-wen- Tread
was an "Honors" candidate, and 1, th'
umead-y, nothing but manufacture
Of "howlers" and classical faux pas.
=. "Er-er, ah---let me see, err
d gasped, and her deep brown eyes
II with look of incipient perplexity, INC
d mine. Her hands We're toying with tn
y handle of my bat. Would it had beel
o me
= II used the word rotatio, " she said
J. IT hope it's not too doggy"
l. "Oh, no" sighed, "it's an excel
:, lent word-used by Bohn, / believep
h How could amy word she used b
v wrong? l thought only of the miserabl
Don Jones from whom mad saved ho.