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Tomlinson, Everett Titsworth, 1859-1931

"A Story of Freshman Year at College"

Say,
fellows, you just ought to have heard Mott rake over our class. He had
the nerve to stand there and tell Mr. Whitaker that we were the worst
lot that had ever entered Winthrop."
"I wish we had caught him!" said Foster warmly. "We would have made him
come up in his estimate of the freshmen."
"Oh, he was just talking to hear himself," said Will Phelps lightly. "He
knows who we are all right enough, and he isn't going to forget us right
away either. But I wish we had caught him."
"Here we are, fellows," said Hawley, as the five young men clambered
over the fence and once more were in Mr. Whitaker's yard. "Let's go in
and ask him about it now."
"All right," responded Foster as they started toward the door. "Hold on
a minute. Let me take a look at my horse first. I'll be with you in a
minute. Gre-a-at--" he suddenly began. "The horse is gone!"
"What!" exclaimed Will in astonishment.
No heed was given his expression, however, as all five ran quickly to
the post to which the horse had been tied. But the horse and sleigh were
gone, and not a trace remained to show in which direction they had
departed.


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