me
both in inches and in years, and whose overflow of animal spirits required
some object to vent itself upon, selected me as the victim of his
ebullient vivacity. He began by tossing my book down stairs. This seemed
to me rather rough play, especially from one with whom I was not, at the
time, on terms of intimacy; but, making allowance for the hilarity of
classmates just let loose from recitation, I picked up, without a thought
of resentment, the abused volume, and took no further notice of the
matter. I subsequently found that it was merely the commencement of a
series of similar annoyances. This lively classmate would even play tricks
on me at the dinner table.

What was to be done? I mentioned the grievance to a friend, and he
remonstrated with my lively classmate, threatening him with my serious
displeasure. "Pooh! how can he help himself?" was the reply which came
duly to my ears.

Sure enough! How could I help myself? The aggressor was my superior in
weight and size. It was a plain case that I should get badly and
ridiculously whipped, if I attempted to cope with him in any pugilistic
encounter. But how would it do to demand of him the satisfaction of a
gentleman? True, I knew nothing of pistol-shooting, and had never handled
a small-sword. No matter for that!

But another consideration speedily drove this scheme of vengeance _a
l'outrance_ out of my head. Not many years before, a peppery little
Freshman had been insulted, as he thought, by a Sophomore. The Soph, I
believe, had knocked the young one's hat over his eyes, as they were
kicking foot-ball in the Delta. Freshman sent a challenge, the effect of
which was to excite inextinguishable laughter among the Sophs convened
over their cigars in the aggressor's room. Amid roars, one of the
conspirators penned an acceptance, fixing as the weapon, hair
triggers,--time, five o'clock in the morning,--place, the Delta,--second,
the bearer, Mr. M----, the writer of this reply.

It was a cruel business. A sham second was imposed on poor little Fresh.
Brave as Julius Caesar, he sat up all night writing letters and preparing
his will. Prompt to the moment, he was on the chosen ground. An unusually
large delegation for such a delicate affair seemed to be present. One
rascal who wore enormous green goggles was pointed out to the innocent as
Dr. Von Guldenstubbe, a celebrated German surgeon, just from Leipsic.
Little Fresh shook hands with him gravely, amid the smothere