The captain said he did not feel like singing and led Symington across in front of the seniors and made him sit down beside him on the grass. This was in the eyes of the whole University.
Symington was quite near the men on the steps. He looked them over and tried to catch the joke they were all laughing at now the song was finished. He thought it would be a right fine thing to sit up there and sing to a college. And he made up his mind that if he ever did it he would climb up on top of one of the lion's heads like that little short fellow with the long pipe.
After singing "Rumski Ho" in long, measured cadence, and other good old things and several new ones, some one on the steps began shouting, "Brown! Brown!" Several voices said, in concert, "We must have Brown." Out in the crowd they began crying, "Right! Brown. We want Brown! We must have Brown!"
Three seniors lay hold of one senior and lifted him to his feet. Symington could hear him saying, "Don't, don't. I'm a chestnut. They won't listen to me any more. Please don't make a fool of me, fellows." But he was made to stand out in front and sing a solo.
While this was going on the rest of the college jumped up from their places and pressed up into a close semicircle about the steps. Symington and the captain had to arise to keep from being trampled on.
When Brown finished his solo he was applauded so much that he had to sing another, and Symington made up his mind that next to being the captain he would most like to be Brown.
Then the crowd called for "Timber," and a man got up who had the queerest face Symington ever saw. He looked as if he were trying with all his might to look serious and would never succeed. Everyone began to laugh the moment Timberly stood up, especially his own classmates. And when he began to sing his comic ballad they laughed still more.
When he finished, the audience clapped their hands and yelled. A crowd of juniors gave the college cheer and ended with the words "Timberly's Solo." In some respects Symington liked Timberly more than Brown.
When Timberly at last, looking sad, sat down, Symington heard several voices saying "Everybody up." Those on the ground arose, and those in the windows jumped down. Symington got up too, though he did not know why, and took off his cap when he saw the captain do it.
It was late twilight. The campus was becoming dusky. The faces were dim. The ball-throwing had ceased, and the little muckers had left. The elms were sighing softly overhead in a patriarchal sort of way. Symington thought everyone seemed more quiet and solemn than they were before. Perhaps he only imagined it.