“Why don’t you wait until you get there, and maybe you’ll find somebody in the same fix you are?” asked Bertha.
“I guess that is good advice,” remarked Andy. “I’ll take a run down there some time before term opening, and maybe I can get some nice chap wished on me. If Tom, or Chet, or some of the Milton lads, were coming to Yale it would be all right.”
“Didn’t any of them pick out Yale?” asked Mr. Blair.
“Not as far as I know.”
“Oh, well, I guess you’ll make out all right, son. A good roommate is a fine companion to have, so I hope you won’t be disappointed. But there’s no hurry.”
The long summer vacation was at hand. Andy’s people were to go to a lake resort, and soon after coming home from Milton, Andy, with his mother and sister, was installed in a comfortable cottage. Mr. Blair would come up over week-ends.
Chet Anderson and Tom Hatfield were at a nearby resort, so Andy knew he was in for a good summer of fun. And he was not disappointed. He and his chums spent much time on the water, living in their bathing suits for whole days at a time. But I will not weary you with a description of the various things they did. Sufficient to say that the vacation was like a good many others Andy had enjoyed, and expected to enjoy again. Nothing in particular happened.
The Summer wore on. The dog-days came and there loomed in the distance the Fall months. Tom had called on Andy one day, and they went out in the canoe together.
“Well, it will soon be study-grind again,” remarked Tom, as he sent the light boat under a fringe of bushes out of the sun.
“Yes, and I won’t be sorry,” spoke Andy. “I’m anxious to see what life at Yale is like. I’ve got to take a run down in a week or so, to fix up about my room. You haven’t heard of anyone I know who is going to be a freshman there; do you?”