But when it was within about five minutes to twelve an expectant hush fell over all that vast multitude.
Anon the first stroke of the bell boomed over the city, then the cheer that went toward that moonlit sky may be imagined, but never never could be described.
At the same moment everybody seemed to produce a bottle of whisky, and everybody drank with and shook hands with his nearest neighbour, no matter who or what he was.
But by one o’clock the multitude had melted away, solitary watchmen paraded the streets, and the pale moon shown calmly down on the pure white walls of the Granite City.
CHAPTER VI
IN SNOW-TIME—A TOWN AND GOWN
My well-beloved reader—what a pretty expression, by the way!—must not jump to the conclusion that this chapter, and those that follow, describe life at the Northern University far back in the Middle Ages.
No; Sandie’s time was just about thirty years ago. Ten years after that, I know there was but little change. There may or may not be an alteration since, for I have been to sea, and scarcely clapped eyes on a red gown.
Well, in Sandie’s time, town and gown riots were far from uncommon; especially in snow-time. Snow-time was glow-time then. The very look of the falling snow sent a thrill of joy to each Grammar School boy’s or even student’s heart, and the first question one would ask another would be—
“Is it making?”
That is, was the snow soft enough to form easily into snowballs? For if very frosty and powdery it was of course no use. As most of the real snowball battles took place just when the thaw commenced, a constant fusillade would then be carried on all up and down Union Street. The street boys, as well as students, were chokeful of mischief, and every conspicuous person caught it hot—if a snowball can be called hot. Battered silk hats were scattered in all directions. Mashers or extra-well-dressed people became simply living targets; silk umbrellas, if put up, were speedily riddled—it was only a case of making the snowball a trifle harder, an extra squeeze did that, and lo! there was a hole in the silken ’brella.