28 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN
or “fQot Pulgar, But—”’
HE Freshman Show was our first colossal break; there had been plenty of lesser
breaks before, but they all led up to this one great never-to-be-forgotten climax.
I can well remember the class meeting in the gym when Pruss read us the manuscript
of the show, and how we listened complacently to it, finding nothing unusual in the setting
of the first scene or in the open hits at our respected faculty. I remember that I objected to
asking the age of the President and was almost reduced to tears by the scornful words of
Hoby, Ruth Vickery, Prussie and several other dignified people. Aside from little details like
this we were satisfied. It was evident from the beginning that Providence willed that I alone
should be responsible for that first scene, for my companions on the Scenery Committee
were laid low at the crucial moment, Dottie Thayer with appendicitis, Hoffie with water
on the knee. HowI laboured with Mr. Abernathy about those miserable doors for the
first scene! He couldn’t understand why we wanted so many and why they should be of
that particular kind. Finally he said “Oh, yes, they are to be tavern doors, aren’t they?”
