that lead to the spring of which the poet doth sing."
"Say, you two give me a sore feeling in the cranium!"' exclaimed Dutch as he sank into the easy chair with force enough almost to disrupt it. "Who's asking you to play any tricks?"
"Aren't you?"
"No."
"Fiat justitia, ruat cælum!" exclaimed Tom, with mock heroics. "We have done you an injustice, most noble Dutchman. Say on, and we will hear thee."
"I've a good notion not to," said Housenlager a bit sulkily. "Here I come in to tell you fellows a piece of news, and I find you boning away, and when I start to talk you spout Latin mottoes at me. I've a good notion to dig out."
"Stay! Stay, dear friend!" cried Tom, laughing. "There, we'll chuck studying for to-night, eh, Sid?"
"Sure. I'm sick of it."
"Now, say on," invited Tom.
Somewhat mollified, Dutch took an easier position in the creaking chair, thereby raising a cloud of dust, and remarked:
"Well, the freshman dinner will come off to-morrow night. It's just been decided."
"Honest?" cried Sid.
"Sure. Our committee has everything in shape,
