"Six to date. I'm going to tackle the minors to-night; plaintive little things, those minors, they get the heart-throb stuff."
"Heavens!" said Frank. "Why don't you hire a hall somewhere out in Hampden? I'll go halves with you to get rid of you."
"'Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast,'" quoted the Codfish, "but not the football player."
"Music did you say?" growled Frank.
"No soul, no soul at all for the beautiful," sighed the guitar player. "Such music ought to move you to tears."
"It does, bitter tears, very bitter tears. Please desist, stop and quit. I'm having trouble with this dose of Romance language. I wonder why they ever called them Romance languages?"
"Give it up." Then, throwing down the guitar: "I say, Frank, chuck it and come down to the harbor. We are going to have a bit of a brush with the First Freshmen crew, and you've never seen your old pal hold the tiller ropes. Maybe I can get you into the launch. We go out at three. Where's Turner and David?"
"David is probably grubbing on his Lit. stuff, and there's no use in trying to get him. Jimmy went over to Chapel street to get something, and ought to be back here in a minute. Here he comes now. I'll go if he does."
Turner came into the room whistling a merry tune, threw himself on the couch and elevated his heels to the end of the desk in the national attitude.
"Gee whiz, but it's a great day! Why don't you fellows get out? Not many more days like this between now and next May."