"The hard-boiled ego," commented the boy the ruler; and he batted a
swooping June-bug into space.

"Sit down, idiot," said his sprightly mate."

Conversation ceased. Instruction went forward. Their pencils worked.
The causal law, etc., went into their condensed notes like Liebig's
extract of beef, and drops of perspiration continued to trickle from
their matted hair.




II




Bertie and Billy were sophomores. They had been alive for twenty years,
and were young. Their tutor was also a sophomore. He too had been
alive for twenty years, but never yet had become young. Bertie and
Billy had colonial names (Rogers, I think, and Schuyler), but the
tutor's name was Oscar Maironi, and he was charging his pupils five
dollars an hour each for his instruction. Do not think this excessive.
Oscar could have tutored a whole class of irresponsibles, and by that
arrangement have earned probably more; but Bertie and Billy had
preempted him on account of his fame or high standing and accuracy, and
they could well afford it. All three sophomores alike had happened to
choose Philosophy 4 as one of their elective courses, and all alike were
now face to face with the Day of Judgment. The final examinations had
begun. Oscar could lay his hand upon his studious heart and await the