must not take the exceptional man as a standard; we've got to
talk about the average. The hand of the Potter shook badly when he made
man. It was at best a careless job. But He made some better than others,
some a little less weak, a little more intelligent. All in all, those
are the men that come to college. The colleges ought to do a thousand
times more for those men than they do do; but, after all, they do
something for them, and I am optimistic enough to believe that the time
will come when they will do more."

"Some day, perhaps," he concluded very seriously, "our administrative
officers will be true educators; some day perhaps our faculties will be
wise men really fitted to teach; some day perhaps our students will be
really students, eager to learn, honest searchers after beauty and
truth. That day will be the millennium. I look for the undergraduates to
lead us to it."

CHAPTER XXVI

The college year swept rapidly to its close, so rapidly to the seniors
that the days seemed to melt in their grasp. The twentieth of June would
bring them their diplomas and the end of their college life. They felt a
bit chesty at the thought of that B.S. or A.B., but a little sentimental
at the thought of leaving "old Sanford."

Suddenly everything about the college became infinitely precious--every
tradition; every building, no matter how ugly; even the professors, not
just the deserving few--all of them.

Hugh took to wandering about the campus, sometimes alone, thinking of
Cynthia, sometimes with a favored crony such as George Winsor or Pudge
Jamieson. He didn't see very much of Norry the last month or two of
college. He was just as fond of him as ever, but Norry was only a
junior; he would not understand how a fellow felt about Sanford when he
was on the verge of leaving her. But George and Pudge did understand.
The boys didn't say much as they wandered around the buildings, merely
strolled along, occasionally pausing to laugh over some experience that
had happened to one of them in the building they were passing.

Hugh could never pass Surrey Hall without feeling something deeper than
sentimentality. He always thought of Carl Peters, from whom he had not
heard for more than a year. He understood Carl better now, his desire
to be a gentleman and his despair at ever succeeding. Surrey Hall held
drama for Hugh, not all of it pleasant, but he had a deeper affection
for the ivy-covered dormitory then he would ever hav