Part 41 (2/2)
”Quite mysterious!” said The Roman, himself once more. ”Sudden change of weather. Mead, lend us the a.s.sistance of your splendid faculties.
What? Unable to rise? Too bad. Dear me--dear me--quite the feeling of home again--quite homelike.”
The carnage was terrific, the scythe pa.s.sed over them with the old-time sweep, laying them low. Once maliciously, when Fatty Harris was on his feet, The Roman asked:
”Top of page, fifth word, gerund or gerundive?”
”Gerund,” said Harris instantly.
”Ah, pardon----” said The Roman, bringing into play both eyebrows. ”My mistake, Harris, entirely my mistake. Go down to the next paragraph and recognize a gerundive. No? Sit down--gently. Too bad--old methods must make way for new ideas. Too bad, then you did have one chance in two and now, where in the whole wide world will you find a friend to help you? Cla.s.s is dismissed.”
”I told you you couldn't beat The Roman,” said the Tennessee Shad.
”I made him change his system, though,” said d.i.n.k gloriously, ”and he never caught me.”
”Well, if you have, how are you going to spot the gerund and the gerundive?”
”I don't need to; I've learned 'em,” said d.i.n.k, laughing.
XVI
The Kennedy House Educational Quick Lunch Inst.i.tute broke up in wrath a week later when an innocent inquiry of Beekstein's for the pa.s.swords revealed the direction of the club's finances.
Meanwhile, true to his resolve, d.i.n.k, with the a.s.sistance of Finnegan and the Tennessee Shad, had started the fad of souvenir toilet sets; which, like all fads, ran its course the faster because of its high qualities of absurdity and uselessness. d.i.n.k's intention of recouping himself by selling his own set of seven colors at a big advance was cut short by a spontaneous protest to the Doctor from the house masters, whose artistic souls were stirred to wrath at the hideous invasion. The subject was then so successfully treated from the pulpit, with all the power of sarcasm that it afforded, that the only distinct artistic movement of New Jersey expired in ridicule.
d.i.n.k took this check severely to heart and, of course, beheld in this thwarting of his scheme to dispose of the abhorrent set with honor a fresh demonstration of the implacability of The Roman.
He wandered gloomily from Laloo's and Appleby's to the Jigger Shop; where, after pulling his hat over his eyes, folding his arms inconsolably, he confided his desires of revenge on Doc Macnooder to the sympathetic ears of the guardian of the Jigger.
”Why not get up a contest and offer it as a prize?” said Al.
”Have you seen it?” said d.i.n.k, who then did the subject full justice.
Al remained very thoughtful for a long while, running back dreamily through the avenues of the past for some stratagem.
”I remember way back in the winter of '88,” he said at last, ”there was a slick coot by the name of Chops Van Dyne, who got strapped and hit upon a scheme for decoying the shekels.”
”What was that?” said d.i.n.k hopefully.
”He got up a guessing contest with a blind prize.”
”A what?”
”A blind prize all done up in tissue paper and ribbons, and no one was to know what was in it until it was won. It certainly was amazing the number of suckers that paid a quarter to satisfy their curiosity.”
”Well, what was inside?” said d.i.n.k at once.
<script>