The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best e reader for epub .txt) 📕

Picked Up The Cat And Started For The Door. Almost Instantly Every

Student Looked Up; And Then The Stamping Began. Four Hundred Freshmen

Stamped In Rhythm To The Proctor's Steps. He Hushed Violently,  Tried

Vainly To Look Unconcerned,  And Finally Disappeared Through The Door

With The Cat. Hugh Had Stamped Lustily And Laughed In Great Glee At The

Proctor's Confusion; Then He Returned To His Work,  Completely At Ease,

His Nervousness Gone.

One Hour Passed,  Two Hours. Still The Freshmen Wrote; Still The Proctors

Paced Up And Down. Suddenly A Proctor Paused,  Stared Intently At A Youth

Who Was Leaning Forward In His Chair,  Walked Quickly To Him,  And Picked

Up One Of His Goloshes. The Next Instant He Had A Piece Of Paper In His

Hand And Was,  Walking Down The Gymnasium After Beckoning To The Boy To

Follow Him. The Boy Shoved His Feet Into His Goloshes,  Pulled On His

Baa-Baa Coat,  And,  His Face White And Strained,  Marched Down The Aisle.

The Proctor Spoke A Few Words To Him At The Door. He Nodded,  Opened The

Door,  Left The Gymnasium--And Five Hours Later The College.

Thus The College For Ten Days: The Better Students Moderately Calm,  The

Others Cramming Information Into Aching Heads,  Drinking Unbelievable

Quantities Of Coffee,  Sitting Up,  Many Of Them,  All Night,  Attending

Seminars Or Tutoring Sessions,  Working For Long Hours In The Library,

Finally Taking The Examination,  Only To Start A New Nerve-Racking Grind

In Preparation For The Next One.

If A Student Failed In A Course,  He Received A "Flunk Notice" From The

Registrar's Office Within Four Days After The Examination,  So That Four

Days After The Last Examination Every Student Knew Whether He Had Passed

His Courses Or Not. All Those Who Failed To Pass Three Courses Were,  As

The Students Put It,  "Flunked Out," Or As The Registrar Put It,  "Their

Connection With The College Was Severed." Some Of The Flunkees Took The

News Very Casually,  Packed Their Trunks,  Sold Their Furniture,  And

Departed; Others Frankly Wept Or Hastened To Their Instructors To Plead

Vainly That Their Grades Be Raised: All Of Them Were Required To Leave

Haydensville At Once.

Hugh Passed All Of His Courses But Without Distinction. His B In

Trigonometry Did Not Give Him Great Satisfaction Inasmuch As He Had

Received An A In Exactly The Same Course In High School; Nor Was He

Particularly Proud Of His B In English,  Since He Knew That With A

Little Effort He Could Have "Pulled" An A. The Remainder Of His Grades

Were C's And D's,  Mostly D's. He Felt Almost As Much Ashamed As Freddy

Dickson,  Who Somehow Hadn't "Got Going" And Had Been Flunked Out. Carl

Received Nothing Less Than A C,  And His Record Made Hugh More Ashamed Of

His Own. Carl Never Seemed To Study,  But He Hadn't Disgraced Himself.

Hugh Spent Many Bitter Hours Thinking About His Record. What Would His

Folks Think? Worse,  What Would They _Say?_ Finally He Wrote To Them:

       Dear Mother And Dad:

       I Have Just Found Out My Grades. I Think That They Will

       Be Sent To You Later. Well,  I Didn't Flunk Out But My

       Record Isn't So Hot. Only Two Of My Grades Are Any Good.

       I Got A B In English And Math But The Others Are All C's

       And D's. I Know That You Will Be Ashamed Of Me And I'm

       Awfully Sorry. I've Thought Of Lots Of Excuses To Write

       To You,  But I Guess I Won't Write Them. I Know That I

       Didn't Study Hard Enough. I Had Too Much Fun.

       I Promise You That I'll Do Better Next Time. I Know That

       I Can. Please Don't Scold Me.

                                Lots Of Love,

                                                Hugh

All That His Mother Wrote In Reply Was,  "Of Course,  You Will Do Better

Next Time." The Kindness Hurt Dreadfully. Hugh Wished That She Had

Scolded Him.

The College Granted A Vacation Of Three Days Between Terms,  But Hugh Did

Not Go Home,  Nor Did Many Of The Other Undergraduates. There Was

Excitement In The Air; The College Was Beginning To Stew And Boil Again.

Fraternity Rushing Was Scheduled For The Second Week Of The New Term.

The Administration Strictly Prohibited The Rushing Of Freshmen The First

Term; And,  In General,  The Fraternities Respected The Rule. True,  The

Fraternity Men Were Constantly Visiting Eligible Freshmen,  Chatting With

Them,  Discussing Everything With Them Except Fraternities. That Subject

Was Barred.

Hugh And Carl Received A Great Many Calls From Upper-Classmen The First

Term,  And Hugh Had Been Astonished At Carl's Reticence And Silence.

Carl,  The Flippant,  The Voluble,  The "Wise-Cracker," Lost His Tongue The

Minute A Man Wearing A Fraternity Pin Entered The Room. Hugh Was Forced

To Entertain The All-Important Guest. Carl Never Explained How Much He

Wanted To Make A Good Fraternity,  Not Any Fraternity,  Only A _Good_ One;

Nor Did He Explain That His Secret Studying The First Term Had Been

Inspired By His Eagerness To Be Completely Eligible. A Good Fraternity

Would Put The Seal Of Aristocracy On Him; It Would Mean Everything To

The "Old Lady."

For The First Three Nights Of The Rushing Season The Fraternities Held

Open House For All Freshmen,  But During The Last Three Nights No

Freshman Was Supposed To Enter A Fraternity House Unless Invited.

The First Three Nights Found The Freshmen Traveling In Scared Groups

From Fraternity House To Fraternity House,  Sticking Close Together

Unless Rather Vigorously Pried Apart By Their Hosts. Everybody Was

Introduced To Everybody Else; Everybody Tried Rather Hopelessly To Make

Conversation,  And Nearly Everybody Smoked Too Much,  Partly Because They

Were Nervous And Partly Because The "Smokes" Were Free.

It Was The Last Three Nights That Counted. Both Hugh And Carl Received

Invitations From Most Of The Fraternities,  And They Stuck Together,

Religiously Visiting Them All. Hugh Hoped That They Would "Make" The

Same Fraternity And That That Fraternity Would Be Nu Delta. They Were

Together So Consistently During The Rushing Period That The Story Went

Around The Campus That Carver And Peters Were "Going The Same Way," And

That Carver Had Said That He Wouldn't Accept A Bid From Any Fraternity

Unless It Asked Peters,  Too.

Hugh Heard The Story And Couldn't Understand It. Everybody Seemed To

Take It For Granted That He Would Be Bid. Why Didn't They Take It

Equally For Granted That Carl Would Be Bid As Well? He Thought Perhaps

It Was Because He Was An Athlete And Carl Wasn't; But The Truth Was,  Of

Course,  That The Upper-Classmen Perceived The _Nouveau Riche_ Quality In

Carl Quite As Clearly As He Did Himself. He Knew That His Money And The

Fact That He Had Gone To A Fashionable Prep School Would Bring Him Bids,

But Would They Be From The Right Fraternities? That Was The

All-Important Question.

Those Last Three Days Of Rushing Were Nerve-Racking. At Night The

Invited Freshmen--And That Meant About Two Thirds Of The Class--Were At

The Fraternity Houses Until Eleven; Between Classes And During Every

Free Hour They Were Accosted By Earnest Fraternity Men,  Each Presenting

The Superior Merits Of His Fraternity. The Fraternity Men Were Wearier

Than The Freshmen. They Sat Up Until The Small Hours Every Morning

Discussing The Freshmen They Had Entertained The Night Before.

Hugh Was In A Daze. Over And Over He Heard The Same Words With Only

Slight Variations. A Fraternity Man Would Slap A Fat Book With An

Excited Hand And Exclaim: "This Is 'Baird's Manual,' The Final Authority

On Fraternities,  And It's Got Absolutely All The Dope. You Can See Where

We Stand. Sixty Chapters! You Don't Join Just This One,  Y' Understand;

You Join All Of 'Em. You're Welcome Wherever You Go." Or,  If The Number

Of Chapters Happened To Be Small,  "Baird's Manual" Was Referred To

Again. "Only Fifteen Chapters,  You See. We Don't Take In New Chapters

Every Time They Ask. We're Darned Careful To Know What We're Signing Up

Before We Take Anybody In." The Word "Aristocratic" Was Carefully

Avoided,  But It Was Just As Carefully Suggested.

It Seemed To Hugh That He Was Shown A Photograph Of Every Fraternity

House In The Country. "Look," He Would Be Told By His Host,  "Look At

That Picture To The Right Of The Fireplace. That's Our House At Cornell.

Isn't It The Darb? And Look At That One. It's Our House At California.

Some Palace. They've Got Sunken Gardens. I Was Out There Last Year To

Our Convention. The Boys Certainly Gave Us A Swell Time."

All This Through A Haze Of Tobacco Smoke And Over The Noise Of A Jazz

Orchestra And The Chatter Of A Dozen Similar Conversations. Hugh Was

Excited But Not Really Interested. The Nu Deltas Invited Him To Their

House Every Evening,  But They Were Not Making A Great Fuss Over Him.

Perhaps They Weren't Going To Give Him A Bid.... Well,  He'd Go Some

Other Fraternity. No,  He Wouldn't,  Either. Maybe The Nu Delta's Would

Bid Him Later After He'd Done Something On The Track.

Although Actual Pledging Was Not Supposed To Be Done Until Saturday

Night,  Hugh Was Receiving What Amounted To Bids All That Day And The

Night Before. Several Times Groups Of Fraternity Men Got Into A Room,

Closed The Door,  And Then Talked To Him Until He Was Almost Literally

Dizzy. He Was Wise Enough Not To Make Any Promises. His Invariable

Answer Was: "I Don't Know Yet. I Won't Know Until Saturday Night."

Carl Was Having Similar Experiences,  But Neither Of Them Had Been Talked

To By Nu Deltas. The President Of The Chapter,  Merle Douglas,  Had Said

To Hugh In Passing,  "We've Got Our Eye On You,  Carver," And That Was All

That Had Been Said. Carl Did Not Have Even That Much Consolation. But He

Wasn't So Much Interested In Nu Delta As Hugh Was; Kappa Zeta Or Alpha

Sigma Would Do As Well. Both Of These Fraternities Were Making Violent

Efforts To Get Hugh,  But They Were Paying Only Polite Attention To Carl.

On Friday Night Hugh Was Given Some Advice That He Had Good Reason To

Remember In Later Years. At The Moment It Did Not Interest Him A Great

Deal.

He Had Gone To The Delta Sigma Delta House,  Not Because He Had The

Slightest Interest In That Fraternity But Because The Nu Deltas Had Not

Urged Him To Remain With Them. The Delta Sigma Deltas Welcomed Him

Enthusiastically And Turned Him Over To Their President,  Malcolm Graham,

A Tall Serious Senior With Sandy Hair And Quiet Brown Eyes.

"Will You Come Up-Stairs With Me,  Carver? I Want To Have A Talk With

You," He Said Simply.

Hugh Hesitated. He Didn't Mind Being Talked _To_,  But He Was Heartily

Sick Of Being Talked _At_.

Graham Noticed His Hesitation And Smiled. "Don't Worry; I'm Not Going To

Shanghai You,  And I'm Not Going To Jaw You To Death,  Either."

Hugh Smiled In Response. "I'm Glad Of That," He Said Wearily. "I've Been

Jawed Until I Don't Know Anything."

"I Don't Doubt It. Come On; Let's Get Away From This Racket." He Took

Hugh By The Arm And Led Him Up-Stairs To His Own Room,  Which Was

Pleasantly Quiet And Restful After The Noise They Had Left.

When They Were Both Seated In Comfortable Chairs,  Graham Began To Talk.

"I Know That You Are Being Tremendously Rushed,  Carver,  And I Know That

You Are Going To Get A Lot Of Bids,  Too. I've Been Watching You All

Through This Week,  And You Seem Dazed And Confused To Me,  More Confused

Even Than The Average Freshman. I Think I Know The Reason."

"What Is It?" Hugh Demanded Eagerly.

"I Understand That Your Father Is A Nu Delt."

Hugh Nodded.

"And You're Afraid That They Aren't Going To Bid You."

Hugh Was Startled. "How Did You Know?" He Never Thought Of Denying The

Statement.

"I Guessed It. You Were Obviously Worried; You Visited Other

Fraternities; And You Didn't Seem To Enjoy The Attention That You Were

Getting. I'll Tell You Right Now That You Are Worrying About Nothing;

The Nu Delts Will Bid You. They Are Just Taking You For Granted; That's

All. You Are A Legacy,  And You Have Accepted All Their Invitations To

Come Around.