function in the convocation hall. He looked so fat and shiny, so balmy
and sleepy when he took his degree and was handed his prize for a poem on
Sir John Franklin, that the public laughed, and the college men in the
gallery began singing:

"Bye O, my baby,
Father will come to you soo-oon!"

He seemed not to care, but yawned in his hand as he put his prize book
under his arm through one of the holes in his gown, and in two minutes
was back in his room, and in another five was fast asleep.

It was the general opinion that William Rufus Holly, fat, yellow-haired,
and twenty-four years old, was doomed to failure in life, in spite of the
fact that he had a little income of a thousand dollars a year, and had
made a century in an important game of cricket. Great, therefore, was
the surprise of the college, and afterward of the Province, when, at the
farewell dinner of the graduates, Sleeping Beauty announced, between his
little open-eyed naps, that he was going Far North as a missionary.

At first it was thought he was joking, but when at last, in his calm and
dreamy look, they saw he meant what he said, they rose and carried him
round the room on a chair, making impromptu songs as they travelled.
They toasted Billy Rufus again and again, some of them laughing till they
cried at the thought of Averdoopoy going to the Arctic regions. But an
uneasy seriousness fell upon these "beautiful, bountiful, brilliant
boys," as Holly called them later, when in a simple, honest, but indolent
speech he said he had applied for ordination.

Six months later William Rufus Holly, a deacon in holy orders, journeyed