The professor had
planted the seed of wisdom with them; it was at the seminars that they
tried honestly, if somewhat hysterically and irreverently, to make it
grow.
Hugh did most of his studying alone, fearing that the seminars would
degenerate into bull sessions, as many of them did; but Carl insisted
that he join one group that was going "to wipe up that goddamned
English course to-night."
There were only five men at the seminar, which met in Surrey 19, because
Pudge Jamieson, who was "rating" an A in the course and was therefore an
authority, said that he wouldn't come if there were any more. Pudge, as
his nickname suggests, was plump. He was a round-faced, jovial youngster
who learned everything with consummate ease, wrote with great fluency
and sometimes real beauty, peered through his horn-rimmed spectacles
amusedly at the world, and read every "smut" book that he could lay his
hands on. His library of erotica was already famous throughout the
college, his volumes of Balzac's "Droll Stories," Rabelais complete,
"Mlle. de Maupin," Burton's "Arabian Nights," and the "Decameron" being
in constant demand.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113