“Come again, Sis. Get out your little hammer, and join the anvil chorus!” sarcastically commented Andy.
“No, but really,” went on Mrs. Blair, “wouldn’t a private house be quieter, Andy?”
“Not much more so, I believe,” spoke the prospective Yale freshman. “When there’s any excitement going on those in the private houses get as much of it as those in the college buildings. But, as a matter of fact, when there’s nothing on—like a big game or some of the rushes—Yale is as quiet as the average Sunday school.
“Why, the day I was there I walked all around and nothing happened. The fellows came and went, and seemed very quiet, not to say meek. I walked over the campus, and I expected every minute some big brute of a sophomore would smash my hat down over my eyes, and give a qbRah! Rah!’ yell. But nothing like that happened. It was sort of disappointing.”
“Well, you need quiet if you’re going to study,” went on Mrs. Blair. She had an idea that Yale was a sort of higher-grade boarding school, it seemed.
“Then I’ll decide on Wright Hall,” remarked Andy. “That is, if I can get in.”
Then followed some correspondence which resulted in Andy being informed that a room on the campus side of Wright Hall, and on the second floor, was available. The only trouble was that it was a double room, and Andy would have to share it with another student.
“Hum!” he exclaimed when he had this information. “Now I’m up against it once more. Who can I get to go in with me? I don’t want to take a total stranger, and yet I guess I’ll have to.”
“You might advertise for a roommate?” suggested his mother.
“I guess they don’t do things that way at Yale,” spoke Andy, with a smile.