Then the two boys went back to the play-ground where others joined them, and Archag soon found himself taking part in a lively conversation. They talked about the professors, the president and his wife, of what they had learned, and what they had yet to learn. Then all the Sophomores began playing ball, and kept up the game until they heard the bell ring for supper.
Three tables were spread in the dining-hall; one for the preparatory class, the second for the Freshmen and Sophomores, and the third for the Juniors and Seniors. Archag sat down beside Garabed as Badvili Melikian was saying grace. The fare would no doubt have seemed very frugal to American boys; it consisted of tea, bread, and hard-boiled eggs, but the boys seemed to be satisfied; they dispatched their supper in ten minutes, and then went back to their play, as lessons had not yet begun.
Archag walked about arm in arm with Garabed, who told him his own story. He was a thin, frail-looking lad of seventeen; he had grown too fast, and was round-shouldered. His face was sweet and attractive, but unfortunately his expression was spoiled by a large pair of spectacles which made him look like a little old man. He was a native of Goerum, near Sivas, and had been two years at Aintab.
“I was glad to come back,” he said, “for the professors are very nice, and the boys are fine chaps. My father wanted me to go to Marsivan, which is nearer home, but I preferred to return here.”
Archag took a liking to Garabed, and talked to him about Van and his family, as if he had been an old friend.
“Several of my relatives have been students here,” he said, “that’s why I came. My brother-in-law, who left four years ago, told me a good deal about the professors. Do you——”
Here the conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of another boy who jumped on Garabed’s back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Hi there, Baron[3] Garabed! what stuff are you pouring into the ears of that innocent lamb!”
“I don’t care to be compared to a lamb, thank you,” said Archag; “they are too stupid.”
“Aférim! (That’s right) Baron Archag,” said Garabed, “take Aram down a peg or two.”