The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1917-01-04

ter. l didn't want TO quit, anyway.
I would have given a lot to sit around
in that college library for couple of
hours with Miss Scroggs and have
her sparkle away to me the way she
did to those COMPOUNDED girl friends.
She looked as if she could be perfect
ly delightful if she felt that way.
I found out what church the
Scroggses frequented the next week,
and decided to shift my attack. If I
couldn't associate in college with Mar
thai decided that I would call her
that to myself because I liked the
name-I would 60 out and use church
in cold-blooded fashion for the pur-
pose. I went to two church socials
and found Martha at the second one.
It seemed to me she was perhaps one
thirty-secOnd Of a degree more cordial
in her greeting-at any rate she bowed
to me before logged her attention.
and I made the most of it. trailed
around with her and behind her for
half an hour, fighting my way through
mobs of girl friends-I never saw a
girl so cursed with girl friends-and
after having gotten two distinct
laughs from her by a line of talk that
would have reduced one of the Brown
ing hall beauties to helpless mirth,
came right out and asked her if I
couldn't walk home with her. My
knees shook when I did it.
"Why, there isn't the slightest use
Of that, Mr.. Simmons she said kind
ly. "Ralph Madison lives next door,
and he'll take care of me-"
Ralph Madison was town student
"a sophomore whose only prominent
point was his teeth. He was sissy
and nincompoop, and when he
walked carelessly up and said, "Ready,
Martha?" could have bitten him in
two. They went off together like old
and Well-Worn friends, and went out
into the night and planned murder and
arson for three hours.
Anyway, that ended it. I'd laid my
pride down before Miss Scroggs, and
she had not only walked on it, but
had wiped her feet on it. I'd tried
to make a friend and companion out
of a girl who would probably never
have another chance to mingle with
real masculine mind. And what was
the result? She had laughed at me.
Very well. I would give up my large
minded idea and go back and daily
with the charming girls of the school.
I had been a fool for neglecting them,
anyway. They were, at least, kind and
appreciative.
For a week or more soused myself
in society and attended the Kappa
Kap party with tremendous success,
not less than eight girls confessing
that they could die dancing with me.
But I didn't enjoy myself. Somehow
society seemed as unsatisfactory as
fifth dish Of ice cream. got to hang
ing around the library between classes
not in the hope Of talking with Mar
thai wouldn't have tried that again
for a farm-but because it seemed
kind of homelike in there, and liked
to watch her studying with her rain
coat and tam on-they became her
more than I supposed would be pos
sible. I got considerably interested
in English history, too, while I was
wasting time there. I had to amuse
myself some way-and did lot of
reading in the hope that some day I
could get up unexpectedly and recite
chOked me off. 1t would be such a
stunning surprise to him, coming from
me. I chuckled at the thought Of it.
So filled up on Macaulay until was
a walking biography of William of
Orange, and one day when Professor
Harris ordered me up to do my usual
tight-wire balancing act between a
funk and a ''passable' I sailed into
the English for their attitude to Dutch
Billy like a prosecuting attorney ar
Iaigning a chicken thief.
Professor Harris had only escaped
from England about two generations
back, and he bristled up when I tried
to explain how sweet it was in the
beef-bolters to invite William over
with his army, and then afte1 using
them, to boot said army out of the
country as a nuisance-in a perfectly
polite and well-bred manner, of course
the English are always polite. So
we had little ten-minute bicker, and
every time Professor Harris got a
hammerlock on me I managed to fall
back a generation or two and grab up
some other English political crime
which I had run across in the last
week. So I came out of the deal with
out more than one shoulder on the
mat, but pretty much worried-for
Professor Harris was determined to
avenge his precious England, and saw
where it was up to P. Simmons to
keep on stocking in history at the rate
of one quarto volume a day.
I hurried over to the library after
class, and had just gotten Hume and
Macaulay stacked up, one on each
side, when I looked up and saw Miss
Scroggs sitting near me and looking
at me. She ducked her head with her
peculiar little smile and bow. 1t
warmed me clear to nv Shoes