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


Kentuckian who had taken two of the
best men in the sophomore class and
knocked their heads together like a
couple of cabbages. Some one dubbed
him "the anarchist as being an enemy
of the established order of things.
The name stuck, but ere a week was
over the freshman had elected him
president of the class, and the varsity
football captain had personally invited
him to try for the team.
His record as football player was
brief one. For space OF some 10 min
utes one afternoon he was persuaded to
line Ep on the scrub, with a coach sta
toned behind him to tell him when to
hold and when to break through, since
he was utterly ignorant of the game.
The anarchist seemed to enjoy that
quarter of an hour extremely. So did
the spectators, and so, indeed, did every
body except the varsity guard and two
substitutes. who, in rapid succession.
yielded to one another the honor OF
trying to block him.
| AS the third man limped off the field,
the anarchist announced to the captain
that i, was nice game, but he was
afraid he might hurt somebody, and
reckoned he wouldn't play any more.
No one could induce him to put on a
football suit again, and his rapidly-won
popularity suffered a temporary eclipse.
But it soon proved impossible. after
all, not to grow fond of the tender
hearted giant. With all his strange ac-
| cumulations of experience he was abso-
lutelv unworldly. lie liked all the
"boys," regardless of class distinctions,
and all the ''profs," without the slight
est reference to the reputation they had
hitherto enjoyed among the undergrad
yates.
His presence in the Greek recitation
room, it must be admitted, did not con-
tribute much to the cause of exact schol-
arship, but he had not learned that it
was bad form to ask questions, and
always awaited his inqueries with Curl
osity, and sometimes with fear.
It was fine to see him there, side by
side with well-groomed boys from the
preparatory schools, who were loath to
betray any interest in the text lest they
should be thought "grinds," and afraid
to express any opinion about college
matters lest they might injure their
standing with this or that fraternity.
McRawney was an object-lesson in ''an-
archy," and made converts every day.
1t was in connection with the eXamin-
ations at the end of the term that the
anarchist sealed his reputation, and
added something, surely, to the reputa-
ton of the college. remember the day,
the room and the moment with perfect
distinctness.
The freshman Greek paper had re-
ceived the undivided attention of the
! class fer something more than an hour.
The best men We're writing steadily, but
those ranking near the ''danger-lins
were beginning to wriggle in their seats
and sharpen their pencils aimlessly, and
watch the December snowflakes swirl
against the little, old-fashioned win
dow-panes. The anarchist, in partic-
ular. seemed to be in distress. looked
up from my book once or twice, and saw
him pull his red beard through his fin
gers, and cross and recross his sprawl
ing legs. and smile pityingly at his
I
paper.
l was sorry for him, but there was
nothing to be done. Presently he
seemed to become interested in the
methodical way in which high-rank
man near him was reeling off the an
swcrs, and he grew quiet-absorbed,
| supposed in good-natured envy. Ny
eyes drifted back to my book, and I
soon forgot all about him,
All of sudden the anarchist startled
me by leaping to his feet. No one
had yet left the room, and every man
in the class looked up to see who was
lucky enough or reckless enough to be
the first to go. They stared on per-
ceiving that it was the anarchist, and
stared decidedly more when he turned
excitedly to me and asked: Professor,
may / call "a meeting of the class2"
During the middle of an examination
such request was unheard of. hesi-
tated.
'It will take two or three minutes
only" said McRawney, so deferentially
that it was impossible to refuse. nod
ded assent. If / had had more pres
ence of mind, I should have left the
room, but in that case should have
missed most singular and memorable
scene.
1.-THE class of ninety-blank will please
come to order," said the Kentuckian,
Strengthening himself to the last inch
of his six feet four. Every trace OF uRz
Cainliness slipped from him in that
instant, and he faced the roomful of
wondering boys with the air of a born
leader of men. AS soon as he had
opened his lips he forgot my presence
in the room, 1 am sure.
"Gentlemen," he began, u will state
the object of this meeting, though do
so with regret. For the first time since
you showed me the courtesy of electing
me your president, 1 am obliged to
bring to your notice the fact that the
class of ninety-blank has been dis
graced / had thought that we were n
company of gentlemen, gathered in this
famous college for free companionship
and generous rivalry. Among gentle
men, surely there are some things that
ought to be taken for granted; / eX-
pect no man here to pick my pocket or
forge my name. 1 had thought that
we stood toward each other, and to-
ward the gentlemen who teach us, as
those in honor bound. 1t is not so. /
have just seen man cheat"
His plant southern voice stung sud
denly, like a whip. A dozen men