"The idea, you funny boy!" said his sister, blushing violently. "Run on now and see Sam."
"What's the matter with everyone anyhow?" said Skippy to himself. "There's a reason. There certainly is a dark reason."
Still pondering over the motives for this unaccountable reception he proceeded along the hall, to the room of his heart's idol, his brother Sam, senior at Yale and star of the nine, Sambones Bedelle, known at school as Skippy the first, about whose athletic prowesses the tradition still remained.
"Who's that?" said the great man at the sound of his knock. "Skippy? Come in and let's look you over."
"Hello, Sambo," said the young idol-worshipper, sidling in.
The older brother caught his hand, slapped him on the back and held him off for inspection.
"By Jove, you young rascal, you're sprouting up fast. Whew, what a suit! Pretty strong, bub—pretty strong."
"I say, do you think—"
"Never mind. I've worn worse. Paid for?"
"No-o—not yet."