THE UNIVERSITY COURIER.
9
A JUNIOR'S LOVE.
A RETRORPECT FROM THE DIARY OF K. S. UPTONSNUFF.
Imagine a dull, gloomy day, a continual drizzling rain, with a cold east wind. On such a day as this my sister and I found ourselves in the little college-town of L.——, in September, 18—. We had come to attend the college, and were comfortably settled that afternoon in one of the many students' boarding-houses.
We had lived, as long as I can remember, with a dear maiden aunt; not with one of those vinegar-faced spinsters who pry into everyones secrets, but a very sweet lady, whom it would delight your heart to see. She had kept us at school near our home, but I had come into disfavor with the faculty there, and although not dismissed, I begged aunt Kester to send me elsewhere. Nothing would suit Helen, my sister, but that she should come with me, so here we were in this poor rain-soaked little town.
Well the next morning after our arrival, we started for the college, which was situated upon a high hill,—so as to place the standard of instruction as high as possible, I suppose. By the following Monday our work was arranged, and we entered the Junior Class. We each had a study in the afternoon, and there was barely time to hurry home at the close of the last hour in the morning, eat our dinner, and return for the afternoon-class.
Helen and I never dissented. She was a great favorite with the girls up on the hill, particularly those interested in the fraternities; and I often teased her about how very loving and sisterly they had grown toward her in that short time. She good-naturedly, replying, that she liked them quite as well as they did her.
About two weeks later, when I entered one of my classrooms, there was restlessness in the very air, so thick you could almost see it. I naturally inquired the cause, and was told that a "quiz" was feared. "And what may a 'quiz' be?" I asked my next neighbor, a girl, who replied in a way characteristic of a girl. "Don't you know what a 'quiz' is?" she asked in astonishment. "Well I'll tell you. A professor, from some reason or other, has the nightmare. In it, his Evil Genius propounds to him certain abstruse and obscure problems or questions, according to his department, to be solved within from one to three days, or even a week. Although pretty sure of having sufficient knowledge for the purpose, he wishes to be certain and the next day, sets these same questions before his classes. In their answers, his memory is refreshed, and he also receives much additional information which he never had had the good fortune to read or hear before."
One day, while in the library, my attention was attracted to a gentleman standing behind the librarian's desk. He was of medium height, carried his head and shoulders well thrown back, had dark gray eyes, and a luxuriant mass of brown hair, which, had it been under the hand of a skillful hair-dresser, would have rivalled the exalted coiffures of the dames of the olden times. Under the existing circumstances
however, he contented himself with brushing it straight back from his forehead, acquiring thereby a very distinguished air. On the face of this pompous individual there was an expression of such exquisite misery that I was appalled, uncertain whether the agony which he seemed to be enduring was mental or physical. He stood there for a few moments, in great distress, evidently debating within himself whether or not it would be wise to leap over the desk and two or three intervening tables, and, confronting his direst enemy, pulverize him on the spot. But discretion seemed to get the better part of valor, and he soothed himself dy running his slender, lily-white fingers through his abundant locks. Then he slowly, proudly descended from his point of vantage, and passed majestically through the room, and the doors soon hid him from my view. I did not have time to inquire his name before he was back, bearing a small book in his hand. After proceeding to the Seniors' portion of the library, and returning empty-handed, he again went out, returned with a larger book, deposited it in his private alcove, and again promenaded 'the reading-room, and finally disappeared for five minutes. During this interval, I found his name to be James Green, the Grand Mogul of the High Steppers' Fraternity. This accounted for his regal bearing, which I soon had an opportunity of observing more closely.
Once, as I was passing through the halls, I heard a sound, an indescribable sound, now near, now far off. What was it? It seemed to linger about a group of girls with whom I was acquainted. I joined them, and while they were laughing at some excruciatingly funny remark of mine, I heard a faint tinkle! tinkle! I asked one of the sweet artless creatures to walk with me, and as we walked and talked, we existed in an atmosphere of sweet sounds. I went home that day, wrapped—nay buried—in thought. The next morning, I went up the hill an hour earlier than usual, and paraded up and down the hall amid the unbounded astonishment of my lady friends, that a gentlemen could, under any circumstances, be musical. Their tongues were not quiet, and I was the attraction of every eye. My vanity was flattered exceedingly, and I felt that though they might be indignant at my usurpation of their rights, yet, at the same time, I had rather advanced in their estimation.
That day just as I was starting for home, I saw, standing with my sister, the sweetest, prettiest girl I ever beheld. I do not know what came over me, but I blushed deeply—those confounded bells—that night I asked Helen about her. Her eyes twinkled merrily as she answered:
"Oh, her name is Mary Deane, a very common-sounding name—" "It's a beautiful name, and just suits her!" I exclaimed. "She said she lived about a hundred miles west of here in a little town called 'The Rapids.'" continued Helen, with a very knowing smile, and the conversation was dropped.
Meanwhile, I had become friends with three or four boys who were very agreeable companions. We had a great many little dinners together, for which they insisted upon paying. I felt that they were very generous, and when they