The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1895-05-22
A FRESH PROFESSOR.

of my heart. forget the frayed shirts,
"dickeys" and antediluvian collars of
Don Jones that the laundress fathered on
me. lido 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 a sunny afternoon i'll the merry
month of May as returned at o'clock,
in fannels and blazer, from an hour S
tagging at the cricket nets, and tripped
up the stairs of my digs that over
looked the dear old college gardens,
whistling "Oh, Phyllis Mine" burst
open the door, and = "Are visions
about?" came the lightning thought, as
saw, seated in the armchair by my
window, gazing out on the glories of the
horse chestnuts opposite, one of the-noi
the wide subsequent events :" )--most
charming little girls I have ever scent
By the side of the armchair was lee
ture note book, and what I knew only
too well to be Herr Crammer's Latin
Prose. She rose, bowed deferentially,
and somewhat nervously began: ooh,
Professor Jones, am SO sorry am latel
Mr.. Boothby of Gamaliel said he hadn't
time to look over my prose, and asked
me to bring it to you at A 40, and said,
as you sometimes took his work, you
would correct it for me.
saw it all, or rather 1 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 q gave him sovereign at the end
of term. One moro to the long list of
mistaken identities, but worth them all
Should undeceive her? And thought
of the dryasdust Jones' He was the sea
monster, was Perseus, and she was
Andromeda "a thousand times no, !"
said my heart. I shall be a professor
for 80 minutes With all of him I could
muster, and re-enforced by my gold rim
med pince nez--
"Ah!-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'm
one Of Mr.. Boothby's extension pu-
pills. "
"Of course, " said and looked pro-
fesscrially at a card picked up, "here's
your name. I"
It was q card of the XL's summer
term fixtures. mwardly vowed it
would be more extension" than "lec-
ture." But did she think was a pro-
fessorf Could she not see my chin, in
nocent Of a razor-the galaxy of London
actresses ON my mantelpiece, the hunt
ing sketches, my bat on the table, the
siphons check by jowlwith McTavish's
"best?" Did professors play banjos and
whistle ooh, Phyllis Nine" as they
bounded up to unravel the mysteries of
"Oratio Obliqua" with fair pupils? /
stifled surmise and lived only in the
present and the sunshine of-Ethel She
resumed her seat, and I rang the bell
Up came the landlady.
Bring up tea for two, Mrs. Grabbs,"
/ said, land send out for the best cake
Bofins have in the show-I-er-mean
the premises. "
"Oh, professor, she interposed,
"please don't trouble about tea for me- -
Madam" I rejoined, 1--WE cannot
discuss the position Of Caesar in winter
quarters or that plebeian bricklayer
Balbus without some light refreshment.
Come, let us commence Bring your
chair up to the table. (Oh, how brutal
Of mel And would have carried it
miles for Ter dear sake, but was q
professor And she drew her chair SO
close to mine that l could almost
page a. grunted, with beating
heart, for I knew that the sentences
were plain sailing till about page 30.
"Oh, no" she said, "I'm at page
21Oi"
My heart sank, at least such of it as
was not in my mouth. How could
twice plowed fresher essay tho snares
and pitfalls of page 80?
"The passage begins" she contin-
ued, " The rotation of crops and ends
at rustic simplicity
1t was hopeless. She, Eshel-well-r Tread,
was an "Honors" candidate, and l, the
unready, nothing but a manufacturer
of "howlers" and classical faux pas.
tEr-er, ah--let me see, err
I gasped, and her deep brown eyes,
with look of incipient perplexity, met
mine. Her hands were toying with the
handle Of my bat. Would 1t had been
mel
II used the word rotatio, sho said.
II hope it's not too doggy"
"Oh, no, sighed, tits an excel
lent word--used by Bohn, believed
How could any word she used be
wrong? l thought only Of the miserable
Don Jones from whom had saved her. 4
shen Mrs Grabbs came in with the tea
and cake.
Ethel, a-er-Miss Mayner, / beg
four pardon Do let me pour you out
tup of teap'
The emphasis was more undergradu-
atey than PROFESSIONAL the work of inn
pulse rather than discretion, but pru-
dence was out when beauty was in.
"Oh, thank you, she smiled. "You
are dear good old MANI Il had just
turned IS, / good? A hypocrite in a
FOOLS paradiseD "But we don't seem
to be getting on very quickly?'' she que
ried. (Oh, when were prose and poetry
SO closely allied?) "Crops, are they fem
mime or masculine?' she asked