In the midst of the tumult the marshal flung his hat at the elm; then the
rush upon the tree took place, and the scramble for the flowers. The
first who swarmed up the trunk were promptly plucked down by the legs and
flung upon the ground, as if to form a base there for the operations of
the rest; who surged and built themselves up around the elm in an
irregular mass. From time to time some one appeared clambering over heads
and shoulders to make a desperate lunge and snatch at the flowers, and
then fall back into the fluctuant heap again. Yells, cries, and clappings
of hands came from the other students, and the spectators in the, seats,
involuntarily dying away almost to silence as some stronger or wilfuler
aspirant held his own on the heads and shoulders of the others, or was
stayed there by his friends among them till he could make sure of a
handful of the flowers. A rush was made upon him when he reached the
ground; if he could keep his flowers from the hands that snatched at
them, he staggered away with the fragments. The wreath began to show wide
patches of the bark under it; the surging and struggling crowd below grew
less dense; here and there one struggled out of it and walked slowly
about, panting pitiably.

"Oh, I wonder they don't kill each other!" cried Mrs. Pasmer. "Isn't it
terrible?" She would not have missed it on any account; but she liked to
get all she could out of her emotions.

"They never get hurt," said Mrs. Saintsbury. "Oh, look! There's Dan
Mavering!"

The crowd at the foot of the tree had closed densely, and a wilder roar
went up from all the students. A tall, slim young fellow, lifted on the
shoulders of the mass below, and staying himself with one hand against
the tree, rapidly stripped away the remnants of the wreath, and flung