ame very near balking entirely right there. It took us five minutes
to explain that there was no other way of getting out to Siwash and
that the Faculty would take it as a personal insult if he didn't come.
We also had to explain how disagreeable the Faculty was when it was
insulted. And then after he had consented we spent another five minutes
hoisting him aboard a prehistoric plug and telling him how to stick on.
Then the line filed out through the alley with a regular ghost-dance
yell, while we detained Petey. We were about to massacre him for leaving
us to sweat all morning, but we forgot all about it when Petey told us
what he had been doing. He admitted that, in order not to annoy the
profs and cause unnecessary questions, he had taken the liberty to build
a temporary Siwash College for this special occasion.

Yes, sir; nothing less than that. You remember Dillpickle Academy, the
extinct college in the west part of town? It had been closed for years
because the only remaining student had gotten lonesome. But most of the
equipment was still there, and Petey had borrowed it of the caretaker
for one day only, promising to give it back as good as new in the
morning. Petey could have borrowed the great seal away from the
Department of State. He and his Rep Rho Betas had let a lot of students
into the deal, had been working all morning, and Siwash was ready for
business at the new stand.

We wanted to measure Petey for a medal then and there, but he refused,
being needed on the firing-line. He rode off and we made a grand rush
for the new Siwash College--special one-day stand, benefit performance.
We got there before the escorting committee and had a fine view of the
grand entry. The Reverend Pubby had fallen off four times, and the last
mile he had led his horse. It was a sagacious scheme bringing him along,
as none of the others had a chance to exhibit their extremely sketchy
horsemanship in anything better than a mile-an-hour gait.

Old Dillpickle Academy was busier than it had ever been in real life
when we got there. Fully fifty students were on the scene. They were
decked out in cowboy clothes, hand-me-downs, big straw hats,
blankets--any old thing. One thing that impressed me was the number of
books they were carrying. At Siwash we always refused to carry books
except when absolutely necessary. It seemed too affected--as if you were
trying to learn something. But out there at near-Siwash every man had at
least