The sophomores came up and followed suit, and the happy freshmen barked like a pack of young hyenas.
Well, say, freshmen! this is sport, isn’t it? This is something you’ll not soon forget. Here is where you have a chance to vent your kittenish feelings to the full extent. Whoop her up, freshmen, but look out for the finish. The sophs are laying for you, and Jack Ready regards himself as remarkably clever in the way of fooling freshmen. If you get ahead of him to-night, you may congratulate yourselves.
The seniors had saluted Dwight Hall and danced on. The juniors took their turn at cheering there, and so they continued on their way from the Treasury to the Old Library, singing and cheering and growing hoarser and hoarser as they progressed. In front of the statue of President Wolsey they nearly roared their heads off. They howled at the Chittenden Library in joyous abandon, and finally they packed into the court of Vanderbilt, where, between the close space of the walls, the cheering sounded like the thunder of thousands.
Then, having cheered for Vanderbilt, they bethought themselves of one who roomed there, but was mysteriously absent from their ranks.
“Three times three for Merriwell!” roared Browning.
Then, to the jerking of his bat, they simply roared:
“’Rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’rah! Merriwell! Merriwell! Merriwell!”
By the time the head of the line came back to Durfee again, the song had turned to a hoarse shriek. Then Browning and Hodge led down the three-flag-wide stone walk that runs the length of the campus.
And the freshmen followed on, singing joyously.