one might look at a bug which had wandered on to the table and was
trying to climb over a fork.

"Young man," he said, "what do you want?"

Did you ever have your voice slink around behind your larynx and refuse
to come out? Mine did. I only wish I could have slunk with it. I started
talking twice. My tongue went all right, but I couldn't slip in the
clutch and make any sound.

"Well," roared Scroggs, "what is it?"

That jarred me loose. "Mr. Scroggs," I sputtered, "I am engaged to your
daughter. I want to marry her. I want your permission. I--I'll be good
to her, sir."

He glared at me for a minute. "Oh!" he said with a queer look. "Well,
come on in with the rest of them."

I followed him into the parlor. There sat Evans and Petersen. They were
older than I, but if I looked as scared as they did I wish somebody had
shot me. In the corner was another student. His name was Driggs. His
specialty was cotillons.

We four sat and looked at each other with awful suspicions. Something
was excessively wrong. I felt indignant. Can't a fellow go to see his
fiancee without being annoyed by a Roman mob? I noticed Petersen and
Evans looked indignant, too. We took it out by staring Driggs almost
into the collywobbles. Who was he anyway, and why was he billy-goating
around?

Old Scroggs had called Martha. He sat and looked at us so peculiarly
that I got gooseflesh all over. Here I was, a Freshman so green that the
cows looked longingly at me, and up against the job of saving the
college, winning out for the frat and becoming engaged to a girl I
didn't know before a whole roomful of rivals. I wasn't up to the job. If
only I had gone to the works! They seemed a haven of sweet peace just
then.

Martha Scroggs came into the room. She looked at the quartet. We looked
at her with hunted looks. Scroggs looked at all of us.

"Martha," he said at last, "each one of these four young idiots says he
is engaged to you. Which of them shall I throw out?"

The jig was up! The college was ruined! Each one of us had the same
bright thought!

For a moment I thought Martha was going to faint. She looked at the mob
with a dazed expression. You could almost see her brain grabbing for
some explanation. It was just for a moment, though. My, but that girl
was a wonder! She gulped once or twice. Then she smiled in an inspired
sort of way.

"None of them, Papa," she said ever so sweetly. "I am engaged to all of
them."

The eruption of Vesuvi