"Give them a cheer, fellows," cried the Senior, "and start the fire."
"Here's to Braddy's brother," sang the Freshmen, as they threw the lighted matches into the pile, "drink her down! Here's to Braddy's brother, and—"
"Dave Hunter!" shouted Bingo, who had found his voice.
"—and Dave Hunter he's the other; drink her down, drink her down, drink her down, down, down!" etc., ending up with a rousing B-I-N-G-O—Bingo!
Then the fire began to crackle and sizzle and blaze up and roar, and the Freshmen cheered and sang and shouted, and the bright light revealed groups of girls with brothers and friends who had come to see the celebration, and myriads of small boys who had come to see the fun.
It was a beautiful sight. The wood had been piled up in pyramid form, and the flames rose red and yellow almost to the tops of the tall elms, those still sentries of the campus. How it spluttered and hissed and crashed and roared! and not even the Freshmen could drown the mighty voice, which spoke in so many different tongues, though they did their best; and as Braddy's brother, standing near the wagon which held the nine, watched the shooting, dancing, devouring flames his heart thumped so that it almost broke out of bounds, and he drew long, very long breaths.
The fire had died down somewhat, the cheering was more spasmodic and subdued, the time for speeches had come. Every one crowded closer, and the wagon, not the burning pile, became the centre of attention.
"Speech! speech!" cried '98. "A speech, Braddy."
Bradfield was not only the pitcher, but the Captain of the Freshman nine. So they forced him upon the high seat, and yelled for quiet. Braddy looked down upon the densely packed mass, hushed for the moment into something like stillness, and his nerve completely deserted him. There he stood, fair and boyish, a target for all eyes, but he could not say a word. He opened his mouth, he even gestured, but no sound came. It was a case of pure stage-fright, and the awkwardness increased with every second. "Fellows," he managed to stammer out—"fellows—"
But there he stopped. Suddenly the painful pause was broken by a high excited voice. "Tell 'em Princeton's the biggest college in the world, Tom, and that '98 can beat any Freshman nine in the country!"