At first Amory noticed only the wealth of sunshine creeping across the
long, green swards, dancing on the leaded window-panes, and swimming
around the tops of spires and towers and battlemented walls. Gradually
he realized that he was really walking up University Place, self-
conscious about his suitcase, developing a new tendency to glare straight
ahead when he passed any one. Several times he could have sworn that
men turned to look at him critically. He wondered vaguely if there was
something the matter with his clothes, and wished he had shaved that
morning on the train. He felt unnecessarily stiff and awkward among
these white-flannelled, bareheaded youths, who must be juniors and
seniors, judging from the savoir faire with which they strolled.

He found that 12 University Place was a large, dilapidated mansion,
at present apparently uninhabited, though he knew it housed usually a
dozen freshmen. After a hurried skirmish with his landlady he sallied
out on a tour of exploration, but he had gone scarcely a block when he
became horribly conscious that he must be the only man in town who was
wearing a hat. He returned hurriedly to 12 University, left his derby,
and, emerging bareheaded, loitered down Nassau Street, stopping to
investigate a display of athletic photographs in a store window,
including a large one of Allenby, the football captain, and next
attracted by the sign "Jigger Shop" over a confectionary window. This
sounded familiar, so he sauntered in and took a seat on a high stool.

"Chocolate sundae," he told a colored person.

"Double chocolate jiggah? Anything else?"