The Plastic Age | Page 9

his whole schedule was probably wrong. "Oh, golly," he thought, feeling pitifully weak, "won't that be hell? What can I do?"
At that moment a countrified-looking youth entered, looking as scared as Hugh felt. His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he asked timidly, "Do you know if this is Section Three of Math One?"
Hugh was immediately strengthened. "I think so," he replied. "Anyhow, let's wait and find out."
The freshman sighed in huge relief, took out a not too clean handkerchief, and mopped his face. "Criminy!" he exclaimed as he wriggled down the aisle to a seat by Hugh, "I was sure worried. I thought I was in the wrong building, though I was sure that my adviser had told me positively that Math was in Matthew Six."
"I guess we're all right," Hugh comforted him as two other freshmen, also looking dubious, entered. They were followed by four more, and then by a stampeding group, all of them pop-eyed, all of them in a rush. In the next minute five freshmen dashed in and then dashed out again, utterly bewildered, obviously terrified, and not knowing where to go or what to do. "Is this Math One, Section Three?" every man demanded of the room as he entered; and every one yelled, "Yes," or, "I think so."
Just as the bell rang at ten minutes after the hour, the instructor entered. It was Professor Kane.
"This is Mathematics One, Section Three," Kane announced in a dry voice. "If there is any one here who does not belong here, he will please leave." Nobody moved; so he shuffled some cards in his hand and asked the men to answer to the roll-call.
"Adams, J.H."
"Present, sir."
Kane looked up and frowned. "Say 'here,'" he said severely. "This is not a grammar-school."
"Yes, sir," stuttered Adams, his face first white then purple. "Here, sir."
"'Here' will do; there is no need of the 'sir.' Allsop, K.E."
"Here"--in a very faint voice.
"Speak up!"
"Here." This time a little louder.
And so it went, hardly a man escaping without some admonishment. Hugh's throat went dry; his tongue literally stuck to the roof of his mouth: he was sure that he wouldn't be able to say "Here" when it came his turn, and he could feel his heart pounding in dreadful anticipation.
"Carver, H.M."
"Here!"
There! it was out! Or had he really said it?
He looked at the professor in terror, but Kane was already calling, "Dana, R.T." Hugh sank back in his chair; he was trembling.
Kane announced the text-book, and when Hugh caught the word "trigonometry" he actually thrilled with joy. He had had trig in high school. Whoops! Would he hit Math I in the eye? He'd knock it for a goal.... Then conscience spoke. Oughtn't he to tell Kane that he had already had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood his high-school credentials, which had given him credit for "advanced mathematics." Kane had taken it for granted that that was advanced algebra. Hugh felt that he ought to explain the mistake, but fear of the arid, impersonal man restrained him. Kane had told him to take Math I; and Kane was law.
Unlike most of Hugh's instructors, Kane kept the class the full hour the first day, seating them in alphabetical order--he had to repeat the performance three times during the week as new men entered the class--lecturing them on the need of doing their problems carefully and accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonometry in particular, in the study of science and engineering. Hugh was not interested in science, engineering, or mathematics, but he listened carefully, trying hard to follow Kane's cold discourse. At the end of the hour he told his neighbor as they left the room that he guessed that Professor Kane knew an awful lot, and his neighbor agreed with him.
Hugh's other instructors proved less impressive than Kane; in fact, Mr. Alling, the instructor in Latin, was altogether disconcerting.
"Plautus," he told the class, "wrote comedies, farces--not exercises in translation. He was also, my innocents, occasionally naughty--oh, really naughty. What's worse, he used slang, common every-day slang--the kind of stuff that you and I talk. Now, I have an excellent vocabulary of slang, obscenity, and profanity; and you are going to hear most of it. Think of the opportunity. Don't think that I mean just 'damn' and 'hell.' They are good for a laugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was not restrained by our modern conventions. You will confine yourselves, please, to English undefiled, but I shall speak the modern equivalent to a Roman gutter-pup's language whenever necessary. You will find this course very illuminating--in some ways. And, who knows? you may learn something not only about Latin but about Rome."
Hugh thought Mr. Alling was rather flippant and lacking in dignity. Professor Kane was more