, for Brimfield, like every
similar institution, had its own ways and its own speech. Clint no
longer said "Hello!" or "How do you do?" on meeting an acquaintance. He
said "Hi!" and threw his head back with a little jerk. He bought a
diminutive grey cap with a small visor and wore it so far on the back of
his head that it was not discernible from the front. (If you belonged on
one of the teams you wore your insignia in maroon above the visor, or,
if you had won two "B's," you wore a maroon cap instead and the insignia
was in grey. But Clint hadn't come to that yet.) He offhandedly referred
to the Principal as "Josh," to the instructors as "Horace" or "Uncle
Sim" or "Jordy," as the case might be. He knew that a Hall Master was an
"H.M."; that he and one hundred and seventy-one other youths were, in
common parlance, "Brims"; that a "Silk Sock" was a student of Claflin
School, Brimfield's athletic rival; that Wendell Hall was "Wen";
Torrence, "T"; Hensey, "Hen" or "The Coop," and Billings, "Bill." Also
that an easy course, such as Bible History, was a "doze"; that to study
was to "stuff"--one who made a specialty of it being, consequently, a
"stuffer"; that a boy who prided himself on athletic prowess was a
"Greek"; that a recitation was a "recit"; that the recitation rooms were
"cells," and many other important things.

He subscribed to the school monthly, the _Review_,--or, rather, he
chipped in with Amy, which produced the same result at half the
cost,--contributed to the Torrence Hall football fund, became a member,
though not yet a very active one, of the debating club and paid in his
dues, and spent all his October and November allowance in advance,
together with most of the money he had in hand, in the purchase of a
suit of grey flannel at the local tailoring establishment. When
completed--of course it couldn't be paid for at once--it was at least
two sizes too large for him, such being the accepted fashion at
Brimfield just then; had the pockets set at rakish angles, exhibited a
two-and-a-half-inch cuff at the bottom of the trousers and contained a
cunning receptacle for a fountain pen and pencil in the waistcoat,
(Clint called it a vest, but the tailor set him right.) Amy viewed that
suit with frank envy, for the coat was fully two inches wider across the
shoulders than his and the trouser cuffs were deeper. He tried it on
before the glass and promptly offered to buy it of Clint at an advance
of two dollars, which