A COLLEGE EDUCATION
"I think it's a girl," said the Glee Club man.
"Anyway," spoke up Mason, "he ought to talk. There's no excuse for a man's being that way. Talk will help anything that worries, same as yelling in pain.
Meanwhile, way up in the top story of Witherspoon lay the Sour Ball, flat on his back with an attack of acute indigestion, hating everything, especially the hot rolls he had eaten the day before.
Ben, the black man, had gone after the doctor, who said the patient should not try to get up "for a day or two," and then went away again.
This was at about noon on Friday, after he had already been in bed a long period of darkness, made up of interminable waits for Old North clock to strike the next hour; and then an unbearable age of daylight during which he saw Ben clean up the room and heard the bell ring for each of the recitation hours, and speculated about the mail which was noisily dropped through the slot in the outer room.
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