Consternation, confusion, dismay! There was a furious scramble to get out of the way somehow, anyhow, somewhere, anywhere. To be seen and recognized by the faculty was a very serious matter just then.
The sophs and the juniors dove into bedrooms and plunged under the beds and into the clothes rooms, leaving the poor freshmen to conceal themselves as best they could.
Heavy feet were ascending the stairs. Voices were heard.
“That’s Prof. Mower!” sibilated a voice from one of the overflowing clothes rooms.
“I don’t care about seeing him any more,” softly groaned a voice from beneath a bed.
Then there was a deep grunt of disgust for such a pun, proceeding from various portions of the dark room.
A shrill voice was heard outside the door.
“That’s Prof. Such!” came a husky whisper from the clothes press.
“He shouldn’t come here at such an hour,” punned another voice, from some mysterious corner of the dark room.
“He’s too near-sighted to see anybody if there was a light in the room,” declared somebody.