Howe went all over town after putting on his old clothes, in
case of personal damage, in search of freshmen who were at
home out of the wet. As I left the building a man grabbed me
by my arm, and the rest, with the seniors gathered around; the
only freshman present, who was half scared to death, clung as
near to me as possible. I withdrew my arm and faced them. "If
this means hazing," I said, "I'm not with you. There's not
enough men here to haze me, but there's enough to thrash me, and
I'd rather be thrashed than hazed." You see, I wanted them to
understand exactly how I looked at it, and they wouldn't think
I was simply hotheaded and stubborn. I was very cool about it
all. They broke in with all sorts of explanations; hazing was
the last thing they had thought of. No, indeed, Davis, old
fellow, you're mistaken. I told them if that was so, all
right, I was going home. I saw several of my friends in the
crowd waiting for me, but as I didn't want them to interfere,
I said nothing, and they did not recognize me. When among the
crowd of sophomores, the poor freshman made a last effort, he
pulled me by the coat and begged me to come with him. I said
no, I was going home. When I reached the next corner I
stopped. "I gave you fair warning, keep off. I tell you I'll
strike the first man, the first one, that touches me." Then
the four who had been appointed to seize me jumped on me, and
I only got one good blow in before they had me down in the
gutter and were beating me on the face and head. I put my
hands across my face, and so did not get any hard blows
directly in the face. They slipped back in a moment, and when
I was ready I scrambled up pretty wet and muddy, and with my
face stinging where they had struck. It had all been done so
quickly, and there was such a large crowd coming from the