“Think! Why it is a different place altogether; and, as you are the only new tutor, it must have been your doing. Now I want to know your secret.”
“I've no secret, except taking a real interest in all that the men do, and living with them as much as I can. You may fancy it isn't much of a trial to me to steer the boat down or run on the bank and coach the crew.”
“Ah! I remember you were beginning that before I left, in your first year. I knew that would answer.”
“Yes. The fact is, I find that just what I like best is the very best thing for the men. With very few exceptions they are all glad to be stirred up, and meet me nearly halfway in reading, and three-quarters in everything else. I believe they would make me captain to-morrow.”
“And why don't you let them?”
“No; there's a time for everything. I go in in the scratch fours for the pewters, and—more by token—my crew won them two years running. Look at my trophies,” and he pointed to two pewter pots, engraved with the college arms, which stood on his side-board.
“Well, I dare say you're right. But what does the president say?”
“Oh, he is a convert. Didn't you see him on the bank when you torpids made your bump the other night?”
“No, you don't mean it? Well, do you know, a sort of vision of black tights, and a broad-brimmed hat, crossed me, but I never gave it a second thought. And so the president comes out to see the St. Ambrose boat row?”
“Seldom misses two nights running.”