he and his friend lifted their hats the salute was returned with a few words of greeting by all except Hollingsworth, who laughed rather sneeringly.
"That is the funniest-looking freshman I ever saw," he remarked to the senior with the beard.
The latter, who had not joined in the conversation, raised his eyebrows.
"He looks like a prehistoric Hibernian," he said, "a Stone Age Irishman,-get the idea?
Rather fancy there's good material in that chap, eh! I'll draw him out some day."
The little senior, whose name was Danforth, prided himself upon his deep perceptions. He exalted in individuality, and was the apostle of sensation. It was Danforth's one idea to be not eccentric but original. He laid claim to being a cynic, a pessimist, and an unbeliever. Gifted with a mind that grasped quickly and a power of ready expression, he could have gained honest laurels. His wit was ready, and he drank deeper of learning and liquor and showed it less in appearance than any man on the college roster.
Mr. Danforth played an extremely good hand
