left a memento of their journeying. It was growing a bit lighter and they could discern faint streaks in the eastern sky, when suddenly Freshman Simeon Tolker Congreve started as he smoothed out the last poster.
"Fellows!" he exclaimed, "they are all printed in green; they're the sophomores'! Those were our 'procs' we tore up! Great Peter! Aren't we Lulus!"
"Where 's that red-headed, stuttering rascal?" said Golatly.
"I don't know," said Hart, from the top of a fence. "He was here a minute ago."
Then he laughed, but he was the only one who viewed matters in a comical light.
"We are a pack of fools," said Golatly, seriously. "I'm going to send a bill for my services."
Congreve half smiled. "Let's go back and tear them all down," he said.
"You don't catch me, "said Hart; "I'm going back to bed."
In the bright morning light the six freshman manifestoes upon the water-tower were the only ones to be seen, but the roadsides were covered with the screeds of their natural and hereditary enemies, only half obliterated.
