Music and Prehistoric Literature of the Archipelagos.' Each one of the
faculty answered to toasts, and compared me and Andy to Rockefeller
and the Emperor Marcus Autolycus. I pounded on the table and yelled
for Professor McCorkle; but it seems he wasn't present on the
occasion. I wanted a look at the man that Andy thought could earn $100
a week in philanthropy that was on the point of making an assignment.

"The students all left on the night train; and the town sounded as
quiet as the campus of a correspondence school at midnight. When I
went to the hotel I saw a light in Andy's room, and I opened the door
and walked in.

"There sat Andy and the faro dealer at a table dividing a two-foot
high stack of currency in thousand-dollar packages.

"'Correct,' says Andy. 'Thirty-one thousand apiece. Come in, Jeff,'
says he. 'This is our share of the profits of the first half of
the scholastic term of the World's University, incorporated and
philanthropated. Are you convinced now,' says Andy, 'that philanthropy
when practiced in a business way is an art that blesses him who gives
as well as him who receives?'

"'Great!' says I, feeling fine. 'I'll admit you are the doctor this
time.'

"'We'll be leaving on the morning train,' says Andy. 'You'd better get
your collars and cuffs and press clippings together.'

"'Great!' says I. 'I'll be ready. But, Andy,' says I, 'I wish I could
have met that Professor James Darnley McCorkle before we went. I had a