T. Haviland Hicks, Senior

by James Raymond Elderdice

And Theophilus, as well as T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., shot far wide of the
mark in believing that the big Hercules had no power to feel; he possessed
that power, but, with it the ability to conceal his feelings. They thought
nothing appealed to him, had stirred his soul, at college, but they were
wrong; true, Thor was unable to understand this new, strange life; he was
puzzled when the collegians condemned and ostracized him at first, when
he quit football because it was not a Faculty rule to play, but he was
grateful when Hicks defended him, and the admiration of the student-body
was welcome to him. He had thought he was doing all they desired of him,
when he went back to the game, and now—when Theophilus told him that he
might be dropped from the squad, he was bewildered. He could not understand
just why this could be, when he was reporting for scrimmage every day!

But the friendliness of the youths, their kind help with his studies,
the assistance of the genial Hicks, and, more than all, above even
the admiration of the Freshmen for his promise and purpose, the daily
missionary work of little Theophilus, for whom the massive Thor felt a real
love, had been slowly, insidiously undermining John Thorwald's reserve. No
longer did he condemn what he did not understand. At times he had a vague
feeling that all was not right, that, after all, he was missing something,
that study was not all; and yet, bashful as he was, fearing to appear
rough, crude, and uncouth among these skylarking youths, Thor kept on his
silent, lonely way, and they thought him untouched by their overtures. Of
late, when unobserved, the big Freshman had stood by the window, watching
the collegians on the campus, listening to their songs of old Bannister,
and yet because he felt embarrassed when with them, he gave no sign that he
cared.

Now, however, the splendid appeal of loyal, timorous Theophilus stirred
Thor, and yet he could not break down the wall of reserve he had builded
around himself. He had deluded himself that this comradeship was not for
him, that he could never mingle with these happy-go-lucky youths, that
he must plod straight ahead, and live to himself, because his past had
roughened him.

"You are a Freshman!" spoke Theophilus, unaware that forces were at work on
Thor, and making a last effort. "You stand on the very threshold of your
campus years; everything is before you. I am at the journey's end—very
nearly, for in June I graduate from old Bannister. I never had the chance
to fight for my Alma Mater on the athletic field, and you—Oh, think of
what you can do! About to leave the campus, I, and my class-mates, realize
how dear our college has become to us. If you could just know that
Bannister means something to you, even now, if you only felt it, you
could make your years mean great things to you. Thor, could you leave old
Bannister tomorrow without regret, without one sigh for the dear old place?
We, who soon shall leave it forever, fully understand Shakespeare, when in
a sonnet he wrote:

"This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong—
To love that well which thou must leave ere long!"

There was a silence, and then Thor slowly drew out a letter from its
envelope, scanning the scrawl across its pages. A few moments, while its
meaning seemed to seep into his slow-acting mind, and then a look of
helpless bewilderment, as though the stolid Freshman just could not
understand at all, came to his face; a minute John Thorwald stood, as in a
trance, staring dully at the letter.

"Thor! Thor! What's the matter? What's wrong?" quavered the alarmed
Theophilus, "Have you gotten bad news?"

"Read it, read it," said the big Freshman lifelessly, extending the letter
to the startled Senior. "It's all over, I suppose, and I've got to go to
work again. I've got to leave college, and toil once more, and save. My
promise to my mother can't be fulfilled—yet. And just as I was getting
fairly started."

Theophilus Opperdyke hurriedly perused the message, which had come to Thor
in that night's mail but which the blond giant had let lie unnoticed while
he tackled his geometry. With difficulty Theophilus deciphered the scrawl
on an official letterhead:

THE NEW YORK-CHRISTIANA STEAMSHIP LINE