When Hugh finally calmed down and took stock,
he was horrified and frightened to discover how
far he was behind in all his work. He had done
his lessons sketchily from day to day, but he really
knew nothing about them, and he knew that he
did n’t. Since Morse’s departure, he had loafed,
trusting to luck and the knowledge he had gained
In high school. So far he had escaped a summons
from the dean, but he daily expected one, and the
mere thought of hour examinations made him
shiver. He studied hard for a week, succeeding
only in getting gloriously confused and more fright¬
ened. The examinations proved to be easier than
he had expected; he didn’t fail in any of them, but
he did not get a grade above a C.
The examination flurry passed, and the college was left cold. Nothing seemed to happen. The boys went to the movies every night, had a peanut fight, talked to the shadowy actors; they played cards, pool, and billiards, or shot craps; Saturday nights many of them went to a dance at Hastings, a small town five miles away; they held bull sessions and discussed everything under the sun and some things beyond it; they attended a performance of Shaw’s “Candida” given by the Dramatic Society and voted it a “wet” show; and, incidentally, some of them studied. But, all in all, life was rather tepid, and most of the boys were merely marking time and waiting for Christmas vacation.
