From My College Window
The Masked Man
LL was silent in the hall. I wasasleep. Suddenly I was aroused by the hissing
of my faithful thermostat. From long practice in the lecture room I was ac-
customed to fall asleep and awake quietly, so I lay like one dead—waiting—waiting
—and not in vain. I became aware of a presence sitting on the window-sill. It
had a mask on its face. I was not deceived. It was—it was a burglar! Reader,
imagine my dilemma! Here was I about to be murdered—nay, robbed in my bed,
and I could not call out, for it was quiet hours. What should Ido? I lay like a cat
stealthily watching my foe as he rammaged among the papers on my desk.
My report! He had it! I barely stifled my shriek and lay trembling. Why
had not the maid hidden it as usual in the scrap basket? The villain turned and
slowly looked around the room, till I felt within me the terrible gnawing of the
horror vacut. He spotted a box of candy. (At that a ray of hope gleamed upon
my tortured soul). He reached out a clawlike hand, fumbled a minute in the box,
and bit a piece. Quick as a-flash he turned to the window and leaned far out.
Then I knew that my hope had been realized. He had taken a licoriced fig. My
moment had come. Instantly I was behind him, urging him with a slight push out
of the window, and a moment later I heard the thump below. I heaved a sigh, for
I knew I had come out of it safely.
But, then, O Reader, settle my destroying doubts! Have I broken Self-Gov-
ment? Was that a social engagement?
I have vainly searched volumes of lore
To find out the reason wherefore
At all kinds of meetings
The popular seating’s
Directly in front of the door!
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