this house--nor had he. As he sat in the rich parlors, waiting to
learn whether his friends were at home, he glanced uneasily at his
shoes to see whether they might not be soiling the carpet; and he
vigorously dusted himself with his breath and hands--thus
depositing on the furniture whatever dust there was to transfer.

Having been invited to come up to his friends' room, he mounted and
found one of them waiting at the head of the stairs in his shirt
sleeves, smoking. His greeting was hearty in its way yet betokened
some surprise, a little uneasiness, condescension. David followed
his host into a magnificent room with enormous windows, now raised
and opening upon a veranda. Below was a garden full of old vines
black with grapes and pear trees bent down with pears and beds
bright with cool autumn flowers. (The lad made a note of how much
money he would save on apples if he could only live in reach of
those pear trees.) There was a big rumpled bed in the room; and
stretched across this bed on his stomach lay a student studying and
waving his heels slowly in the air. A table stood in the middle of
the room: the books and papers had been scraped off to the floor;
four students were seated at it playing cards and smoking. Among
them his other friend, who rose and gave him a hearty grip and
resuming his seat asked what was trumps. A voice he had heard
before called out to him from the table:--

"Hello, preachy! Did you find your way to the Bible College?"

Whereupon the student on the bed rolled heavily over, sat up
dejectedly, and ogled him with red eyes and a sagging jaw.

"Have you matriculated?" he asked.