ever succeeds his efforts, that he has made a good hit, Bill suddenly
becomes as impenetrable as Gibraltar, and saws vigorously.

If, at a time like this, "the Professor," _alias_ "Niobe," having
snatched a few moments from his professional perambulations in search
of "_Coffee_," steps forward, signalizing his debut with the
interrogatory: "Do ye think I'm a common laborin' man?" naught is
wanting to complete the student's bliss.

"The Professor" is by no means as varied in his accomplishments as
Bill, his only quotable utterances being the one already given and
another, supposed to be severely sarcastic: "How lang has he been
_so_?" He, however, has, in the recesses of his brain, a dim idea that
Bill is weak, viewed from an intellectual standpoint, while Bill has
an equally indistinct belief that "the Professor" has very little
furniture in his upper story. How far either of them is wrong our
space does not permit us to say. Both have a supreme contempt for
students, regarding them as effeminate cumberers of the ground. In the
presence of Bill, "the Professor" does not appear to advantage. Being
entirely unable to compete with him in a war of words, he is usually
forced to betake himself to dancing; which, compared with oratory, is
frivolous.

Occasionally the adversities of life seem to press upon Bill with
peculiar force, rendering him extremely dejected. At such times,
though his flow of language does not forsake him, he is without that
cheerful aspect and spontaneous expression ordinarily so
characteristic. No longer does he cause the campus to ring with his
hearty vociferation, but he grumbles very like an ordinary mortal: