"I doubt it-- for it seems to be born in him," returned Sam.

"But he's a good sort with it all," ventured Stanley Browne.

"First-rate," agreed Tom. "But I-- well, I simply can't help poking
fun at him when he's around, he's such a dandy, and so lordly in his
manner."

"Here comes Songbird!" interrupted Sam. "And, see, he is writing
verses, as usual. I wonder----"

"Look!" exclaimed Dick. "Oh! There's a collision for you!"

William Philander Tubbs had started across the campus with his head
high in the air. He was looking to one side and did not notice the
approach of another student, who was coming forward thoughtfully,
carrying a pad in one hand and writing as he walked. There was a
sudden meeting of the pair, and the pad fell to the ground and with it
the fancy headgear the dudish student was wearing.

"Oh, I-- er-- I beg your pardon, really I do, don't you know!"
stammered William Philander.

"Great Hannibal's tombstone!" spluttered the other student. "What are
you trying to do, Tubbs, knock me down?"

"I beg your pardon, Powell, I didn't see you coming," answered the
other, as he picked up his hat and commenced to brush it off with
care.