unday newspapers,
and once for ice cream. As I told you, it was May, the time of the year
when street-car fare is a problem of financial magnitude. We had to
borrow money from the cook before night. Hoggy had us helpless, and he
was taking a mean and contemptible advantage of the fact that he was a
corpse. Half a dozen times we were on the verge of letting him come to
life. It would have served him right.

Old Siwash was just naturally submerged in sorrow when Monday morning
came. The campus dripped with sadness. The Faculty oozed regret at every
pore. We loyal friends of Hogboom were looked on as the chief mourners
and it was up to us to fill the part. We did our best. We talked with
the soft pedal on. We went without cigarettes. We wiped our eyes
whenever we got an audience. Time after time we told the sad story and
exhibited the telegram. By noon more particulars began to come in. Prexy
got an answer to his telegram of condolence. The funeral, the telegram
said, would be on Tuesday afternoon. There was great and universal grief
in Weeping Water, where Hogboom had been held in reverent esteem.
Hoggy's chum in the telegraph office simply laid himself out on that
telegram. Prexy read it to me himself and wiped his eyes while he did
it. He was a nice, sympathetic man, Prexy was, when he wasn't discussing
cuts or scholarship.

Getting the memorial meeting was so easy we hated to take it. The
Faculty met to pass resolutions Monday afternoon, and when our
delegation arrived they treated us like brothers. It was just like
entering the camp of the enemy under a flag of truce. Many a time I've
gone in on that same carpet, but never with such a feeling of holy calm.
"They would, of course, hold the memorial meeting," said Prexy. They had
in fact decided on this already. They would, of course, dismiss college
all day. It was, perhaps, best to hold the memorial in the morning if so
many of us were going out to Weeping Water. It was nice so many of us
could go. Prexy was going. So was the mathematics professor, old
"Ichthyosaurus" James, a very fine old ruin, whom Hogboom hated with a
frenzy worthy of a better cause, but who, it seemed, had worked up a
great regard for Hogboom through having him for three years in the same
trigonometry class.

We went out of Faculty meeting men and equals with the professors. They
walked down to the corner with us, I remember, and I talked with Cander,
the Polykon professor, who had always seem