[CHAPTER XXIV.]
WHERE WE LEAVE "THOSE BOYS."
"Men are only boys grown tall."
LEWIE AMESBURY was packing up. His college days were over. Herbert had already gone, expecting to return to enter the theological school. But as Lewie's leave-taking was supposed to be final, his preparations for departure took more time. Two or three fellow students were in the room helping, saying "good-bye," talking over their late triumphs, or lounging listlessly about.
From the dark corner of the closet, Lewie had just brought out a medley of garments, dusty, worn, and old-fashioned. Fairly aching for a frolic, Fred Torrey seized upon the veritable hat that once hung upon the rack in Mr. Bradford's hall, speckless and glossy.
"Hurrah!" he exclaimed, as he fished out the shabby old thing. "Here's an old acquaintance! Say, Amesbury, how did you feel when you first put that hat on?"
"Try it on and see for yourself," was the curt reply.
"Oh, it would fit Baker here better," and Torrey attempted to put the battered old hat upon Baker's head; but that young gentleman suggested "spiders," and tossed it from him, whereupon a very undignified scuffle ensued, and the "old acquaintance," banged and bruised, was kicked back and forth until Fred Torrey conceived the brilliant idea of turning it inside out. Suddenly, he exclaimed—
"Well, now, this is rich! Say, Amesbury, when did you turn tract distributor? Must have lent your hat to Bradford sometimes. Pretty piece of literature for you to carry about!"
"What is it?" asked two or three voices.