track or tennis, or the hundred and one activities which help to keep
young America employed in a great university, Galusha might have
been, and was, seen hopping about some grass-grown graveyard, like
a bespectacled ghoul, making tracings of winged death's-heads or
lugubrious tombstone poetry. When they guyed him he merely grinned,
blushed, and was silent. To the few--the very few--in whom he confided
he made explanations which were as curious as their cause.

"It's great fun," he declared. "It keeps you guessing, that's it. Now,
for instance, here's one of those skull jiggers with wings on it. See?
I traced this over at Copp's Hill last spring, a year ago. But there are
dozens of 'em all about, in all the old graveyards. Nobody ever saw a
skull with wings; it's a--a--ah--convention, of course. But who made the
first one? And why did it become a convention? And--and--why do some
of 'em have wings like this, and some of 'em crossbones like a pirate's
flag, and some of 'em no wings or bones, and why--"

"Oh, good Lord! I don't know. Forget it. You make a noise like a hearse,
Loosh."

"Of course you don't know. _I_ don't know. I don't suppose anybody
knows, exactly. But isn't it great fun to study 'em up, and see the
different kinds, and think about the old chaps who carved 'em, and
wonder about 'em and--"

"No, I'll be banged if it is! It's crazy nonsense. You've got pigeons in
your loft, Loosh. Come on out and give the birds an airing."

This was the general opinion of the class of 19--, that old "Loosh had
pigeons in his loft." However, it was agreed that they were harmless