Through a half-open window the words came floating softly into the ears of Professor Lee, and he smiled as he thought of the real affection and seeming irreverence of the boys. Though his hair was white with years, his heart was very youthful.[13]He liked young men, and sympathized with them. He entered heartily into both their work and play. He enjoyed their fun, approved of their games, and was the champion of athletics at Concord. But the doubtful sport of hazing he detested with his whole soul, and did not hesitate to say so.Every one was aware of his feeling on this subject, but there were few who knew why it was so deep. In a distant city, confined in an asylum for the insane, Professor Lee’s only brother had lived for years, an imbecile. His condition was the direct result of injuries received at the hands of college hazers in his youth.With this sorrow shadowing his life, it is not strange that hazing was an object of horror and hatred in Professor Lee’s thoughts.The party of students, now headed by Parmenter and Lee, passed on across the campus, still singing. From the shadows of North College the tall figure of a young man emerged and came toward them. In the bright moonlight he was recognized at once as Van Loan, a man who had recently entered the Freshman class, coming from another college.He had brought with him a reputation for mental ability and physical strength that gave him at once a prominent position among his fellows. But he was inordinately vain. He did not hesitate to boast of his wealth, of his aristocratic lineage, and of his superior attainments.There is no community so thoroughly democratic[14] as a community of students; and while Van Loan’s real ability met with the respect it deserved, his vanity and arrogance made him obnoxious.To-night he was dressed in the height of fashion. His costly clothes were a perfect fit. But the articles of ornament and apparel which particularly attracted the attention of the Sophomores who approached him were his high silk hat and his heavy cane.It was an unwritten law among the students at Concord College that Freshmen should not wear silk hats or carry canes before reaching their third term. Any violation of this law was sure to bring on a class rush, in which the winning side secured and preserved the offensive articles of costume as trophies and emblems of their victory.Yet here was a Freshman, in the midst of the second term, approaching a group of Sophomores with a cane in his hand and a silk hat on his head! Apparently he saw danger ahead of him, for he stopped a moment.“What is it?” asked some one in the group, as they came up to Van Loan.“It must be Wilson’s dummy come to life,” replied another. Wilson was the college tailor.Van Loan heard these uncomplimentary remarks, and his face flushed with anger. He started boldly on, turning to the right as if to pass by the group. But half a dozen Sophomores intercepted him.[15]“What do you fellows mean by this impertinence?” he asked, curtly.“We mean,” replied Parmenter, “that Freshmen are not yet allowed to carry sticks or wear ‘plugs.’ As you came here recently, from a one-horse college, perhaps you were not aware of this rule. If not, we shall be pleased to escort you to your room, where you can lay these highly objectionable articles of apparel away, and let them grow with your growth until it is time for you to wear them. But if you have knowingly and deliberately violated our rule, we—”“What business is it of yours what I carry or wear?” interrupted Van Loan, hotly. “Stand aside and let me pass, or some one will get hurt!”“Having declined our offer to escort you to your room,” continued Parmenter, coolly, “we shall be obliged to ask you to deliver up to us at once the articles I have named.”“You shall not have them!” replied Van Loan, savagely. “I dare any one of you to come and get them. I dare all of you to take them away! You are co Views: 128
"Hoeing corn is not very hard work for one who is accustomed to it, but the circumstances of the hoeing may make the task an exceedingly laborious one. They did so in Joe Gaston\'s case. Joe Gaston thought he had never in his life before been put to such hard and disagreeable work." - From Chapter 1 ***** "GREENE, Homer, lawyer, b. Ariel, Penn., 1853. A graduate of Union College, and now a resident of Hinesdale, Penn., where he has practised law since 1879. Author of several books of fiction and of occasional poems." ***** [Source: Edmund Clarence Stedman (ed.), An American Anthology 1787-1899 795 (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1900)] ***** Greene was born on January 10, 1853. He graduated from Union College, June, 1876 with an A.B. and C.E. degrees, and from Albany Law School with an LL.B. in 1877. He was admitted to the Wayne County bar in December, 1878 and took up the practice of law. He served as District Attorney of the county for one term. "His first literary effort was written while a student at the Riverview Military Academy, Poughkeepsie, New York; it was a story entitled \'The Mad Skater,\' and was published in Wayne Reid\'s Magazine Onward for June, 1869. While a student at Union College he contributed liberally both in prose and verse to college literature, and was special correspondent for the New York Evening Post, Albany Evening Journal, Troy Whig, and Albany Argus. \'What My Lover Said,\' his best-known poem, was written during his senior year and first published in the New York Evening Post, November 9, 1875, with on the initials \'H.G.\' signed to it. [I]t was widely copied and largely credited to Horace Greeley. . . . \'My Daughter Louise\' and \'Kitty,\' published in Judge Tourgee\'s disastrous literary venture, The Continent, confirmed his reputation as a poet of the first order. . . . \'She Kissed the Dead,\' published in The Christian Union, in 1874 and \'The Rivals,\' printed in The Critic, in 1885, have an artist-like finish and are written with great animation and deep feeling. - From: https://myweb.wvnet.edu/ Views: 84
Meet Threadbare. He is twelve inches tall, full of fluff, and really, really bad at being a hero.
Magically animated and discarded by his maker as a failed experiment, he is saved by a little girl. But she's got problems of her own, and he might not be able to help her.
Fortunately for the little golem, he's quick to find allies, learn skills, gain levels, and survive horrible predicaments. Which is good, because his creator has a whole lot of enemies...
Warning: Contains profanity and violence.
**
Views: 70
