"Skippy's going to the bad," he said to Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan. "He's nervous, he's fidgety, he talks in his sleep. There's no living with him."
"Some day it'll come," said Dennis cheerfully. "Some day there'll be a bang-up, two by two procession, slow music, flowers omitted; and right on a nice green shutter will be stretched our Sister's darling boy."
"Well, I'm getting tired of waiting."
"Keep hoping," said Dennis wisely. "Human nature is human nature. Say, look at that!"
Across the campus came Skippy, fists sunk in his pockets, hat-brim down, stalking rapidly, and at his heels the irrepressible Nuisance.
"It's shocking," said Snorky, "poor old Skippy!"
"That's what love means," said Finnegan contemptuously. "Do you know what he reminds me of? A poor lonely cur going down the road with a tin can tied to his tail."
"Hello, Skippy," said Snorky sadly.
Skippy looked at them and grunted.
At this moment Nuisance caught him by the arm.