“Oh, some Fresh. Come on, you goat. I’m hungry!”
Joe felt himself exulting, after all, that he was to be a part of this throbbing, pulsating life—part of the great college. He hung back, friendless and alone, and it was borne on him with a rush just how friendless and alone he was when he saw so many others greeted by friends and mates. With all his heart Joe wished he had come up from some preparatory school, where he would have had classmates with him. But it was too late now.
He made up his mind that he would walk to his rooming house, not because he wanted to save the carriage hire, but he would have to get in a hack all alone, and he was afraid of the gibes and taunts that might be hurled at the lone Freshman. He had engaged the room in advance, and knew it would be in readiness. Later he intended to join one of the many eating clubs for his meals, but for the present he expected to patronize a restaurant, for the rooming house did not provide commons.
“I’ll walk,” decided Joe, and, inquiring the way from a friendly hackman, he started off. As he did so he was aware of a tall lad standing near him, and, at the mention of the street Joe designated, this lad started, and seemed about to speak.
For a moment Joe, noticing that he, too, was alone, was tempted to address him. And then, being naturally diffident, and in this case particularly so, he held back.
“He may be some stand-offish chap,” reasoned Joe, “and won’t like it. I’ll go a bit slow.”
He swung away from the station, glad to be out of the turmoil, but for a time it followed him, the streets being filled with students afoot and in vehicles. The calling back and forth went on, until, following the directions he had received, Joe turned down a quieter thoroughfare.
“That must be the college over there,” he said after he had swung across the city common, and saw looming up in the half mist of the early September night, the piles of brick and stone. “Yale College—and I’m going there!”
He paused for a moment to contemplate the structures, and a wave of sentimental feeling surged up into his heart. He saw the outlines of the elms—the great elms of Yale.
Joe passed on, and, as he walked, wondering what lay before him, he could not help but think of the chances—the very small chances he had—in all that throng of young men—to make the ’varsity nine.