Haviland Hicks, Jr. "We all want you to stay,
old man; we'll give you a lift with your studies. Old Bannister
wantsyou,
needs you, so
stick!"
"Stay, please!" quavered little Theophilus. "You don't want to leave your
Alma Mater; stay, Thorwald, and--you'll understand things soon,"
"Report at the Registrar's office at seven tonight, Thorwald," said Prexy,
and then, because he understood boys and campus problems, "and to show your
gratitude, you might go out there and spank that team which is trying to
lick old Bannister."
John Thorwald, when Doctor Alford and the Registrar had gone, arose and
stood gazing across Bannister Field. He saw not the white-lined gridiron,
the gaunt goal-posts, the concrete stands filled with spectators, or the
gay banners and pennants. He saw the buildings and campus of old Bannister,
the stately old elms bordering the walks; he beheld the Gym., the four
dormitories--Bannister, Nordyke, Smithson, and Creighton--the white Chapel,
the ivy-covered Library, the Administration and Recitation Halls; he
glimpsed the Memorial Arch over the entrance driveway, and big Alumni Hall.
All at once, like an inundating wave, the great realization flashed on
Thor that he did not have to leave it all! Often again would he hear the
skylarking youths, the gay songs, the banjo-strumming; often would he see
the brightly lighted Quad., would gaze out on the campus! It was still
his--the work, the study, and, if he tried, even the glad comradeship of
the fellows, the bigger things of college life, which as yet he did not
understand.
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