e of the lords of the earth.

"Nuisance is like a wet muddy Newfoundland pup that wants to live in
your lap," said Snorky at the end of the second week.

"Some day," said Skippy shaking his head, "my worse nature is going to
rise up and get the better of me."

"I hope I see it!" said Snorky enthusiastically.

"Of course I'll have to hold in until after Thanksgiving," said Skippy
disconsolately.

"What? Oh, naturally."

CHAPTER XL

REALITY MINUS HIPPO

THANKSGIVING over, Snorky confidently waited the explosion.

"Skippy's going to the bad," he said to Dennis de Brian de Boru
Finnegan. "He's nervous, he's fidgety, he talks in his sleep. There's no
living with him."

"Some day it'll come," said Dennis cheerfully. "Some day there'll be a
bang-up, two by two procession, slow music, flowers omitted; and right
on a nice green shutter will be stretched our Sister's darling boy."

"Well, I'm getting tired of waiting."

"Keep hoping," said Dennis wisely. "Human nature is human nature. Say,
look at that!"

Across the campus came Skippy, fists sunk in his pockets, hat-brim down,
stalking rapidly, and at his heels the irrepressible Nuisance.

"It's shocking," said Snorky, "poor old Skippy!"

"That's what love means," said Finnegan contemptuously. "Do you know
what he reminds me of? A poor lonely cur going down the road with a tin
can tied to his tail."

"Hello, Skippy," said Snorky sadly.

Skippy looked at them and grunted.

At this moment Nuisance caught him by the arm.

"Say, old chap, what are you going to do now?"

"Going to bed, damn it!" said Skippy and bolted within.

* * * * *

How could Snorky and Dennis that unworldly fledgling know what Skippy
suffered? The forty-eight hours of the Thanksgiving vacation had been
like a narcotic dream. He had been under the same roof with her, sat by
her side in the darkened theatre and thrilled at the low sobby music
that sent his imagination helter-skelter into dangerous pastures;
received her confidences, gravely discussed with her the character and
eligibility of older men, confided in turn his life's project to launch
mosquito-proof socks on a world scale; received the full force of her
lovely radiant gentlest of smiles; danced with her alone a whole hour in
the Potterman ballroom, suffocated with happiness; and for all of which
had promised what? To wear Nuisance about his neck like a millstone, to
protect, cherish a