The Plastic Age

irm; the altar had been designed by an even more famous sculptor. The walls, quite improperly, were adorned with paintings of former presidents, but the largest painting of

dim recesses of the vaulted ceiling, at the ornately carved choir where gowned students were quietly seating themselves, at the colored light strea

nd remained standing until the president and faculty were seated. The organ sounded a final chord, and then the college chaplain rose and prayed-very badl

s noble history. He spoke of the famous men it numbered among its sons, of the work they had done for America and the world, of the work he hoped future Sanford men, they, the freshmen, would some day do for America and the world. He mentioned briefly the boys from Sanford who had died in the World War "to make the world safe for democracy," and he prayed that their sacrifice had not been in vain. Finally, he spoke of the chapel service,

e juniors-many of them, at least-paid no attention at all. Some of them were munching apples, some doughnuts, and many of them were reading "The Sanford News," the college's daily paper. Some of the juniors talked during the president's a

slowly in twos, while the other students and the faculty stood in their places; then the president, followed by the faculty, passed out of the great doors. When the back of the last faculty gown had disappeared, the under-classmen broke for the door, pu

ng was across the campus, a good two minutes' walk. He patted his cap to be sure that it was firmly on the back of his head, clutched his no

wait two, and then if nobody came he would-he gasped; he couldn't imagine what he would do. How could he find the right class-room? Maybe his class didn't come at this hour at al

red as Hugh felt. His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he

ed. "I think so," he replied. "

" he exclaimed as he wriggled down the aisle to a seat by Hugh, "I was sure worried. I thought I was in t

, all of them pop-eyed, all of them in a rush. In the next minute five freshmen dashed in and then dashed out again, utterly bewildered, obviously terrified, and n

tes after the hour, the instructo

e is any one here who does not belong here, he will please leave." Nobody moved;

ms,

ent,

ay 'here,'" he said severely.

ms, his face first white

re is no need of the

a very f

eak

s time a li

tongue literally stuck to the roof of his mouth: he was sure that he wouldn't be able to sa

er, H

er

out! Or had he

Kane was already calling, "Dana, R. T." Hu

conscience spoke. Oughtn't he to tell Kane that he had already had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood his high-school credentials, which had given him credit for "advanced mathematics." K

need of doing their problems carefully and accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonometry in particular, in the study of science and engineering. Hugh was not interested in science, engineering, or mathemat

ive than Kane; in fact, Mr. Alling, the inst

ulary of slang, obscenity, and profanity; and you are going to hear most of it. Think of the opportunity. Don't think that I mean just 'damn' and 'hell.' They are good for a laugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was not restrained by our modern conventions. You will conf

re the term was out he hated Kane with an intensity that astonished him, and he looked forward to his Latin classes with

room slept. Hugh was seated near the front; so he drew pictures in his note-book. The English instructor talked about punctuation as if it were very unpleasant but almost religiously important; and what the various lecturers in general s

the bell rang-when the instructor announced that it was a class in French. What was he to do? What would the instructor do if he got up and left the room? What would happen if he didn't report at his Engli

he instructor a

He stopped dead still, n

, laughed. Hugh, angry and humiliated, started for the door, but the instructor he

are you lo

e held out his schedule card, reassu

the card and then consu

mistake. He got you into the wrong g

ng at him; his legs felt as if they were made of wood. It wasn't until he had closed the door that his knee-joints worked naturally. But the worst was still ahead of him. He had to go to his

, Section Seven?" on

he second. "Do you know?"

am almos

he building slammed. A bareheaded youth rushed up the stairs. He was a repeater; that is, a man who had failed the course the preceding ye

then the one nearest the door opened

t in the back of the roo

incident and wondered at his terror. He tried to remember why he had been s

nels for ma