The first person I saw was a young man dressed like one of my father's grooms, and cracking a long whip and whistling. He had a brilliant scarlet neckcloth, green sporting coat, and black boots up to his knees. I studied him for a moment because it struck me that he would look well in a foreground, when toned down a little, as water colours would render him. He appreciated my attention, and seemed proud of it.
"Now, Polly, what can I do for you, dear?"
He must have been three parts drunk, or he would never have dared to address me so. Of course I made no answer, but walked on. He cracked his whip like a pistol, to startle me.
"Splendid filly," I heard him mutter, "but cussed high action." What he meant I do not know or care.
The next I met was a fussy little man, dressed all in brown, who smelt of musty hay.
"Will you kindly tell me," I asked, "where to find Professor Ross?'
"Ross, Ross! Don't know the name. No Ross about here. What's he Professor of?"
"That I was not told. But it is something the young ladies study."
"No young ladies about here. But I see you have brought your dear mamma's lapdog. Take it out of the bag. Let me look at it."
"Is not this the College?"