Part 13 (2/2)

Nightly the freshmen had to entertain the upper-cla.s.smen, and if the entertainment wasn't satisfactory, as it never was, the entertainers were paddled. They had to run races, shoving pennies across the floor with their noses. The winner was paddled for going too fast--”Didn't he have any sense of sportsmans.h.i.+p?”--and the loser was paddled for going too slow. Most of the freshmen lost skin off their noses and foreheads; all of them s.h.i.+vered at the sight of a paddle. By the end of the first week they were whispering to each other how many blisters they had on their b.u.t.tocks.

It was a bitterly cold night in late February when the Nu Deltas took the freshmen for their ”walk.” They drove in automobiles fifteen miles into the country and then left the freshmen to walk back. It was four o'clock in the morning when the miserable freshmen reached the campus, half frozen, unutterably weary, but thankful that the end of the initiation was at hand.

Hugh was thankful for another thing; the Nu Deltas did not brand. He had noticed several men in the swimming-pool with tiny Greek letters branded on their chests or thighs. The branded ones seemed proud of their permanent insignia, but the idea of a fraternity branding its members like beef-cattle was repugnant to Hugh. He told Carl that he was darn glad the Nu Deltas were above that sort of thing, and, surprisingly, Carl agreed with him.

The next night they were formally initiated. The Nu Delta house seemed strangely quiet; levity was strictly prohibited. The freshmen were given white robes such as the upper-cla.s.smen were wearing, the president excepted, who wore a really handsome robe of blue and silver.

Then they marched up-stairs to the ”goat room.” Once there, the president mounted a dais; a ”brother” stood on each side of him. Hugh was so much impressed by the ritual, the black hangings of the room, the fraternity seal over the dais, the ornate chandelier, the long speeches of the president and his a.s.sistants, that he failed to notice that many of the brothers were openly bored.

Eventually each freshman was led forward by an upper-cla.s.sman. He knelt on the lowest step of the dais and repeated after the president the oath of allegiance. Then one of the a.s.sisting brothers whispered to him the pa.s.sword and taught him the ”grip,” a secret and elaborate method of shaking hands, while the other pinned the jeweled pin to his vest.

When each freshman had been received into the fraternity, the entire chapter marched in twos down-stairs, singing the fraternity song. The initiation was over; Carl and Hugh were Nu Delts.

The whole ceremony had moved Hugh deeply, so deeply that he had hardly been able to repeat the oath after the president. He thought the ritual very beautiful, more beautiful even than the Easter service at church.

He left the Nu Delta house that night feeling a deeper loyalty for the fraternity than he had words to express. He and Carl walked back to Surrey 19 in silence. Neither was capable of speech, though both of them wanted to give expression to their emotion in some way. They reached their room.

”Well,” said Hugh shyly, ”I guess I'll go to bed.”

”Me, too.” Then Carl moved hesitatingly to where Hugh was standing. He held out his hand and grinned, but his eyes were serious.

”Good night--brother.”

Their hands met in the sacred grip.

”Good night--brother.”

CHAPTER XIII

To Hugh the remainder of the term was simply a fight to get an opportunity to study. The old saying, ”if study interferes with college, cut out study,” did not appeal to him. He honestly wanted to do good work, but he found that the chance to do it was rare. Some one always seemed to be in his room eager to talk; there was the fraternity meeting to attend every Monday night; early in the term there was at least one hockey or basketball game a week; later there were track meets, baseball games, and tennis matches; he had to attend Glee Club rehearsals twice a week; he ran every afternoon either in the gymnasium or on the cinder path; some one always seduced him into going to the movies; he was constantly being drawn into bull sessions; there was an occasional concert: and besides all these distractions, there was a fraternity dance, the excitement of Prom, a trip to three cities with the Glee Club, and finally a week's vacation at home at Easter.

Worst of all, none of his instructors was inspiring. He had been a.s.signed to a new section in Latin, and in losing Alling he lost the one really enjoyable teacher he had had. The others were conscientious, more or less competent, but there was little enthusiasm in their teaching, nothing to make a freshman eager either to attend their cla.s.ses or to study the lessons they a.s.signed. They did not make the acquiring of knowledge a thrilling experience; they made it a duty--and Hugh found that duty exceedingly irksome.

He attended neither the fraternity dance nor the Prom. He had looked forward enthusiastically to the ”house dance,” but after he had, along with the other men in his delegation, cleaned the house from garret to bas.e.m.e.nt, he suddenly took to his bed with grippe. He groaned with despair when Carl gave him glowing accounts of the dance and the ”janes.” Carl for once, however, was circ.u.mspect; he did not tell Hugh all that happened. He would have been hard put to explain his own reticence, but although he thought ”the jane who got pie-eyed” had been enormously funny, he decided not to tell Hugh about her or the pie-eyed brothers.

No freshman was allowed to attend the Prom, but along with the other men who weren't ”dragging women” Hugh walked the streets and watched the girls. There was a tea-dance at the fraternity house during Prom week.

Hugh said that he got a great kick out of it, but, as a matter of fact, he remained only a short time; there was a hectic quality to both the girls and the talk that confused him. For some reason he didn't like the atmosphere; and he didn't know why. His excuse to the brothers and to himself for leaving early was that he was in training and not supposed to dance.

Track above all things was absorbing his interest. He could hardly think of anything else. He lay awake nights dreaming of the race he would run against Raleigh. Sanford had three dual track meets a year, but the first two were with small colleges and considered of little importance.

Only a point winner in the Raleigh meet was granted his letter.

Hugh won the hundred in the soph.o.m.ore-freshman meet and in a meet with the Raleigh freshmen, so that he was given his cla.s.s numerals. He did nothing, however, in the Raleigh meet; he was much too nervous to run well, breaking three times at the mark. He was set back two yards and was never able to regain them. For a time he was bitterly despondent, but he soon cheered up when he thought of the three years ahead of him.

Spring brought first rain and slush and then the ”sings.” There was a fine stretch of lawn in the center of the campus, and on clear nights the students gathered there for a sing, one cla.s.s on each side of the lawn. First the seniors sang a college song, then the juniors, then the soph.o.m.ores, and then the freshmen. After each song, the other cla.s.ses cheered the singers, except when the soph.o.m.ores and freshmen sang: they always ”razzed” each other. Hugh led the freshmen, and he never failed to get a thrill out of singing a clear note and hearing his cla.s.smates take it up.

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