The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1897-07-30


round the room. Yet never was there
a man in less need of sympathy.
I'm sorry to hear you hiss, boys"
he went on, coolly, but you will prob
ably have cause to hiss a good deal
louder before l sit down. I'm going to
do something that most of you, reck-
On, won't like at all, and I'll tell you
why / am going to do it. l pass by
my personal feelings in this matter,
though L do say this: When a man
has studied Greek hard all this term.
as 1 have, and can't pass, and then
sees another nan get through by
cheating, it's rough. 1t isn't fair
shake; but waive that point.
"The more important NATTER" he
spoke very gi'8yely, sis that we have
been disgraccd as a class by the act
of dishonest classmate. Down where
used to live, how long do you suppose
a man like that could stay in school
among gentlemen? Not one day-no
siri not over night. The boys
wouldn't stand it down there, and |
don't propose to stand it here. The
man that ] saw cheat must apologize
to the class!"
The anarchist paused. There were
no Kisses. One could have heard the
snow fecking against the window
panes, so still was the great room. No
body knew who it was that McRawrey
had caught. There were perhaps
dozen men in pitiable fear that they
had been detected. No one moved.
McRawney frqwned. rs the man
waiting for me to name him?' he thun-
dered.
another The face of high-rank man
near McRawney was ghastly gray
VERY WELL" remarked the anarchist.
GAS you wish" He pulled out an old
silver watch. Il shall give him just
80 seconds; if he does not apologize, |
shall name him, and then he leaves
college or l do. 1 don't want to stay
here with him, and he certainly won't
want to stay here with me-"
l have seen some solemn things, but
never more solemn sight than those
boys struggling with themselves and
thrilling with a new conception of
honor.
Give" said the anarchists drawling
voice, and at intervals that seemed end
less there followed fifteen
twenty ty''-Htwenty-
Mr., President" exclaimed black
eyed, handsome little Philadelphian,
rising from the far corner of the room,
and fellows, this is all wrong. We
don't want anybody to leave. If any
body leaves I suppose l ought to.
haven't cheated to-day, because-well,
! brought the wrong papers! But
have cheated lots of times, that is, for
freshman. And L apologize. I'm sor-
~. l think Mr.. McRawney is right
about it. A gentleman ought not to
cheat in examinations" He looked all
around him on the faces of his class
mates, and spoke on:
"Nc can beat these southern colleges
in athletics, but they have some good
ideas, and think the class of ninety
blank is the class to intro
duce them here. Fellows, l be-
lieve the professor will give us
another examination if we ask for
it, and if he will, l move you, Mr.. Presi-
dent, that from this time forward the
class of ninety-blank puts itself on its
honor"
He glanced timidly across the room
at me and sat down.
The anarchist pocketed his watch.
"Is the motion seconded?" he SAID
gravely. But all parliamentary de-
corum was lost in q tumult of boyish
ciapping, and dozen freshmen were
on their feet at once, stammering out
confessions and apologies.
The professor made an incoherent
speech, and the next day he gave out
new Greek paper, so easy, in truth
that even McRawney passed it; and
thus the honor system" famous
enough now, but suspiciously regarded
then, made it's entrance into the old
college, where it has wrought more
miracles than will ever be set down In
print.
AS for its foster-father, the anarchist,
he dropped around to my rooms few
| weeks later, to ask what l thought of
the advisability of his studying modern
| Gre6A up +Allellst ! lSpllSA' PSAi4S' iAN''
lightly, that he would doubtless find
1t an interesting experience.
II thought so," he said, simply. Il
reckon I'll go. You you see man of
my age gets kind of restless sometimes,
here among these boys"
But how can you go" l ventured.
He stretched his big shoulders,
"Oh, that's easy enough" he laughed.
''I've made a couple of voyages. And
after I've picked up that modern Greek,
professor" he confded, I'm going to
push on east and see what it's like.
Did you ever read this poem?"
He pulled tattered newspaper clip
ping from his pocket and passed it
over to me. 1t was single stanza
from Kipliug's 'Mandalay." He muir
INJURED a couple of lines of it, lying back
in MY easy-chair, and staring at my
cast of the Olympian-IIermes:
ION the road tA Mandalay,
| Where the flynn fishes play,
| An the dawn comes up like thunder
Outer China, 'crost the bay!'
"I[ind of romantic, isn't it?" he de-
manded.
IAN the dawn comes up like thunder
"If old Tom Marshall We're alive now
how he could speak that line, ehP
That's real poetry; old Homer would
have rolled that out pretty full, too.
We'll, / reckon I'll go in the morning.
I'll send you letter from out there"
He has never sent the letter, but