"Hardly," replied Anstey seriously. "I have been a yearling only a few days."
"But is a plebe forbidden to stroll here?"
"If a plebe did have the brass to try it," replied Anstey slowly,
"I reckon he would have to fight the whole yearling class in turn."
Laura caught some of the conversation, and turned to Dick.
"Haven't plebes any rights or privileges?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, indeed," replied Prescott gravely. "A plebe is fed three meals a day, like anyone else. If he gets hurt he has a right to medical and surgical attendance. He is allowed to attend chapel on Sunday, just like an upper classman, and he may receive and write letters. But he mustn't butt into upper-class privileges."
"Poor plebe!" sighed sympathetic Laura.
"Lucky plebe!" amended Dick.
"Weren't you fearfully glum and homesick last year?
"Some of the time, desperately so."