expressed it, and asked them if they did not want to join him and Spud
in a short row on the river.

"That suits me," cried Tom. "I want to get out into the air somewhere.
I am done with classrooms forever. If it was not for the look of
things, I would be turning handsprings on the campus."

"Ditto," added Sam.

"Well, come on," said Songbird. And a few minutes later the four
students were down at the boathouse, getting out one of the four-oared
boats.

"Say, Songbird, I should think this would put you in the rhyming
fever," said Sam, as the four lads rowed out on the river.

"It does," returned the would-be poet.

"All right, turn on the verse spigot and let us have the latest
effusion," cried Tom, gaily.

"The verses aren't finished yet," answered Songbird. And then resting
his oar, he drew from his pocket a slip of paper and began to read:

"The term is passed,
Away we cast
Our books and papers with great glee.
No more we'll train
Each tired brain----"