"How are all the other good old chaps?" she said
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I didn't see any terminus in that conversation. Besides, she looked like one of those most uncomfortable girls who can guy you in such an innocent and friendly manner that you don't know what to say back. So I brushed the preliminaries aside and jumped right into the middle of things. "Miss Hicks," says I, "why are you doing all this?"
"Singular or plural you?" she asked. "And why am I or are we doing what, and why shouldn't we?"
"Help," said I, feeling that way. "Do you deny that you haven't been instrumental in upsetting the whole college with those fool elections?"
"I am a modest young lady," said she, "so, of course, I deny it. Besides, this college isn't upset at all. I went over this morning and every professor was right side up with care where he belonged. And, moreover, you must not call an election a fool because it doesn't do what you want it to. It can't help itself."
"Miss Hicks," says I, feeling like a fly in an acre of web, "I am a plain and simple man and not handy with my tongue. What I mean is this, and I hope you'll excuse me for living—do you admit that you had a hand in those class elections?"
Miss Hicks looked at me in the friendliest way possible. "It is more modest to admit it than to declare it, isn't it?" she asked.
"Certainly," says I; "and this leads right back to question Number One—Why did you do it?"
"And this leads back to answer Number One—Why shouldn't I?" she asked again.
"Why, don't you see, Miss Hicks," says I, "that you've elected a lot of girls that never have been active in college work, and that don't represent the student body, and—"