the distant past.

But Stover had no desire to talk; he felt the thrill of strange
sensations. Scarcely did he heed the chatter of his guide that rattled
on.

The road lay straight and cool under the mingled foliage of the trees.
Ahead, groups of boys crossed and recrossed in lazy saunterings.

"There's the village," said Butsey, extending his hand to the left.
"First bungalow is Mister Laloo's, buggies and hot dogs. There's Bill
Appleby's--say, he's a character, rolling in money--we'll drop in to
see him. Firmin's store's next and the Jigger Shop's at the end."

"The Jigger Shop!" said Stover, mystified. "What's that?"

"Where they make Jiggers, of course."

"Jiggers?"

"Oh, my beautiful stars, think of eating your first Jigger!" said
Butsey White, the man of the world. "What wouldn't I give to be in
your shoes! I say, though, you've got some tin?"

"Sure," said Stover, sounding the coins in his change pocket.

Butsey's face brightened.

"You see, Al has no confidence in me just at present. It's a case of
the regular table d'hote for me until the first of the month. Say,
we'll have a regular gorge. It'll be fresh strawberry Jiggers, too."

They began to pass other fellows in flannels and jerseys, who
exchanged greetings.

"Hello, you, Butsey!"

"Why, Egghead, howdy-do?"

"Ah, there, Butsey White!"

"Ta-ta, Saphead."

"See you later, old Sport."

"Four o'clock sharp, Texas."

Under the trees, curled in the grass, a group of three were languidly
working out a Greek translation.

"Skin your eyes, Dink," said Butsey White, waving a greeting as they
passed. "See the fellow this side? That's Flash Condit."

"The fellow who scored on the Princeton Varsity?"

"Oh, you knew, did you?"

"Sure," said Stover with pride. "Gee, what a peach of a build!"

"Turn to your left," said Butsey suddenly. "Here's Foundation House,
where the Doctor lives. Just look at that doorway. Wouldn't it give
you the chills?"

They were in front of a red-brick house, hidden under dark trees and
overgrown with vines that congregated darkly over the porte-cochere
and gave the entrance a mysterious gloom that still lives in the
memory of the generations.

"It swallows you up, doesn't it?" said Dink, awed.

"You bet it does, and it's worse inside," said Butsey comfortingly.
"Come on; now I'll show you the real thing."

They passed the surrounding trees and suddenly halted. Before them the
campus burst upon them.

"Wel