“Oh, that’s a regular feature at this time of the year. I think they keep it set up and run it every Spring. About four years ago, I guess, anyway, before I got here, the fellows went to the circus over in Greenburg, and rough-housed the show so that they had to clear the tent. Faculty didn’t approve and for a couple of years we weren’t allowed to go to circuses.”
“Is the circus coming here?” asked Gerald.
“Yep, two weeks from Friday. Going?”
“You bet!” replied Gerald. “I love circuses, don’t you?”
“Crazy about them,” answered Alf cheerfully. “We’ll all go and feed peanuts to the elephant.”
“I’d rather eat them,” murmured Tom.
“The elephants?” asked Dan.
“Oh, no,” said Alf quickly, “that would be cannibalism!”
But Tom paid no heed to the insult. He was smiling broadly at his thoughts. “Say, Alf,” he asked, “do you remember that write-up of the Bridgeport football game? Talking about the Scholiast and the games in detail reminded me of it.”
“Do I!” asked Alf, laughing. “I’ll never forget it.” He turned to Dan and Gerald. “It was my first year here. There was a chap named Bridges, a Second Class fellow, who got on the Scholiast as reported. He was a queer duck, was Bridges. The editor then was Ames Bradley, and Brad and I had known each other at prep. Well, one day we played Bridgeport, and Brad thought it would be a good chance for Bridges to show what he could do. So he told him to go and write up the game, and be sure to give all the details. Well, I wish you could have seen the report he handed in! It was the funniest thing you ever—Say, I wonder if I ever threw that away, Tom. I begged Brad for it, and he gave it to me, and I had it kicking around my desk for a long time. I’ll look and see if it’s there.”