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Updated: May 23, 2025
Ken came face to face with a tall, bronze-haired, freckle-faced sophomore, whom he had dodged more than once. There was now no use to dodge; he had to run or stand his ground. "Boys, here's that slugging Freshie!" yelled the Soph. "We've got him now." He might have been an Indian chief so wild was the whoop that answered him. "Lead us to him!" "Oh, what we won't do to that Freshie!"
Tro. 989. ἧλθεν δὲ δαὶς θάλεια πρεσβίστη θεῶν. Soph. Fr. 548. See also Pauly Wissowa, s.v. Icaro-Menippos 24 schol. ad loc. Sylloge 628, Ar. Thesm. 84, 296 et passim. The plural αἱ Θεσμοφόροι used in late Greek is not, as one might imagine, a projection from the whole band of worshippers; it is merely due to the disappearance of the dual from Greek.
We have our viva to-morrow." "Viva!" "Voce," said Lalage. "You must know what that means. The kind of exam you don't write." I got viva into its natural connection with voce and grasped at Lalage's meaning. "Part of the Jun. Soph. Ord.?" I said. "Of course," said Lalage. "What else could it be?" "In that case I mustn't keep you. You'll be wanting to look up your astronomy.
"I'm here, and it's too quaint for words! Everything's different! I suppose England is different, isn't it, Aunt Soph?" "Very different!" Miss Briskett's tones fairly bubbled with innuendoes. She put down her rolled slice of bread and butter, and added frostily, "Before we go any further, Cornelia, I must really beg you to address me by my proper name. My name is Sophia.
"I tried to," I said, "but you kept on interrupting me, so I gave up." Titherington's conscience may have pricked him. He was certainly in a chastened mood, but he showed no sign of wishing to make any further apologies. On the contrary he began to recover something of his habitual self-assertiveness. "If you know her," he said, "perhaps you can tell me what a Jun. Soph. Ord. is?" "No, I can't.
I wasn't afraid a Soph might walk over me; I was afraid they'd take me for an elephant, or an overgrown sample of a potato-fed Islander." "I suppose the trouble is we can't forgive big Redmond for not being little Queen's," said Anne, gathering about her the shreds of her old cheerful philosophy to cover her nakedness of spirit. "When we left Queen's we knew everybody and had a place of our own.
They take their places, the signal is given, they fire, and with a hideous groan and a wild pirouette, the Soph falls to the ground. The Freshman is led up near enough to see the fellow's face covered with blood, and to hear his cries to his friends to put him out of his misery.
One table had been filled with six hundred and seventy-five names and was suspended against the wall, where it would revolve, and the other tables were fast filling up. Merriwell laughed at Ditson's statement. "I don't see as it is such a wonderful thing for a soph to get his name on one of those tables," he said.
As far as effect was concerned a Martini could not have caused a more beautiful fall. Ken landed on the second fellow in the pit of the stomach with a very large potato. There was a sound as of a suddenly struck bass-drum. The Soph crumpled up over the railing, slid down, and fell among his comrades, effectually blocking the stairway. For the moment Ken had stopped the advance.
"Don't let that bother you for a minute. I think you did well myself, and besides, the freshmen very seldom win in the sprints. I don't know that I ever saw one since I've been in college." "Did you win the hurdles when you were a freshman?" "Oh, I just happened to. 'Twas an accident of some kind, I fancy. Yes, I think the soph who was ahead of me tripped and fell, so I crawled in first."
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