“Suppose I've seen others suffering from it, and wanted to try a different way of living from theirs?”
“If you're what you say, you ought to be still in college.”
“I go back for my senior year this fall.”
“What college?”
“You doubt me still, I see!” said Hal, and smiled. Then, unexpectedly, with a spirit which only moonlit campuses and privilege could beget, he chanted:
“Old King Coal was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He made him a college, all full of knowledge—
Hurrah for you and me!”
“What college is that?” asked the marshal. And Hal sang again:
“Oh, Liza-Ann, come out with me,
The moon is a-shinin' in the monkey-puzzle tree!
Oh, Liza-Ann, I have began
To sing you the song of Harrigan!”
“Well, well!” commented the marshal, when the concert was over. “Are there many more like you at Harrigan?”
“A little group—enough to leaven the lump.”