Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
Desperate things done to order, day or night, with care and thoroughness. Trot out your desperate thing and get me an axe. I'll do it." "Well," said Hogboom, "I don't know, but it seems to me that if one of us was to die maybe the Faculty would take a day off and we could go over to Hambletonian without getting cuts." "Fine scheme; get me a gun, Hogboom." "Do you prefer drowning or lynching?"
And then Hogboom himself burst in a side door, and it took seven of us to prevent him from reducing Perkins to a paste and frescoing him all over the chapel walls. Everybody was rattled but Prexy. I think Prexy's circulation was principally ice water.
"Yes, indeed," we said, so mildly that the cop two blocks away strolled down to see what was up. "And then would you be diplomatic enough to produce a telegram saying that the report was false, just too late to start the afternoon classes?" "You bet!" we whooped, pounding Hogboom with great joy.
When Monday night came we began to breathe more easily. Of course there was some kind of a deluge coming when Hogboom appeared, but that was his affair. We didn't propose to monkey with the resurrection at all. He could do his own explaining. To tell the truth, we were pretty sore at Hogboom. He was making a regular Roman holiday out of his demise. It kept four men busy running errands for him.
Hogboom hung up the 'phone and went upstairs, where he lay for an hour or two with his face full of pillows. The rest of us weren't so gay. We could see the humor of the thing all right, but the awful fact that we were murderers was beginning to hang over our heads. It was easy enough to kill Hogboom, but now that he was dead the future looked tolerably complicated. Suppose something happened?
We read it solemnly and then tiptoed up to Hogboom with it. He turned pale when he saw the yellow slip. "What is it?" he asked hurriedly. "How did it happen?" "You were drowned, Hoggy, old boy," Wilkins said. "Drowned in your little old Weeping Water River. They have got you now and you're all damp and drippy, and your best girl is having one hysteric after another.
He illustrated the pluck of the deceased by telling how Hogboom, as a Freshman, dug all night alone to rescue a man imprisoned in a sewer, spurred on by his cries though Rogers explained in his halting way, it afterward turned out that this was only the famous "sewer racket" which is worked on every green Freshman, and that the cries for help came from a Sophomore who was alternately smoking a pipe and yelling into a drain across the road.
We had to tell all the fellows in the frat house and every one of the conspirators let in a friend or two. There were about fifty students who weren't as soggy with grief as they should have been by Monday night. I blame Hogboom entirely for what happened. He started it when he insisted that he be smuggled into the chapel to hear his own funeral orations.
You just sit right there and start another Wheeling conflagration while I tell you how we killed Hogboom to make a Siwash holiday. I helped kill him myself. It was my first murder. It was an awful thing to do, but we were desperate men. It was spring in May and not one of us had a cut left.
Then we sat down as unconcernedly as if we were planning to go to the vaudeville the next afternoon and arranged the details of Hogboom's assassination. As I was remarking, positively nothing looks serious to a college boy until after he has done it. That was on Friday night. On Saturday we killed Hogboom. That is, he killed himself.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking