The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📖

Chapter 8 Pg 66

"Keep Your Shirt On,  Hugh. No,  I Didn'T Tell Him To Go To Hell. I Didn'T

Say Anything,  But I Know That All I'Ve Got To Do To Get An Alpha Sig Bid

To-Morrow Night Is To Let Morton Know That I'D Like To Make The Chapter

A Present. And I'M Not Sure--But I Think Maybe I'Ll Do It."

 

"What!" Hugh Cried. "You Wouldn'T,  Carl! You Know Damn Well You

Wouldn'T." He Was Almost Pleading.

 

"Hey,  Quit Yelling And Sit Down." He Got Up,  Shoved Hugh Back Into His

Chair,  And Then Sat Down Again. "I Want To Make One Of The Big Three;

I'Ve Got To. I Don'T Believe That Either Nu Delt Or Kappa Zete Is Going

To Bid Me. See? This Is My Only Chance--And I Think That I'M Going To

Take It." He Spoke Deliberately,  Staring Pensively Into The Fire.

 

"I Don'T See How You Can Even Think Of Such A Thing," Hugh Said In

Painful Wonderment. "Why,  I'D Rather Never Join A Fraternity Than Buy

Myself Into One."

 

"You Aren'T Me."

 

"No,  I'M Not You. Listen,  Carl." Hugh Turned In His Chair And Faced

Carl,  Who Kept His Eyes On The Dying Fire. "I'M Going To Say Something

Awfully Mean,  But I Hope You Won'T Get Mad.... You Remember You Told

Me Once That You Weren'T A Gentleman. I Didn'T Believe You,  But If You

Buy Yourself Into That--That Bunch Of--Of Gutter-Pups,  I'Ll--I'Ll--Oh,

Hell,  Carl,  I'Ll Have To Believe It." He Was Painfully Embarrassed,  Very

Much In earnest,  And Dreadfully Unhappy.

 

"I Told You That I Wasn'T A Gentleman," Carl Said Sullenly. "Now You

Know It."

 

"I Don'T Know Anything Of The Sort. I'Ll Never Believe That You Could Do

Such A Thing." He Stood Up Again And Leaned Over Carl,  Putting His Hand

On His Shoulder. "Listen,  Carl," He Said Soberly,  Earnestly,  "I Promise

That I Won'T Go Nu Delt Or Any Other Fraternity Unless They Take You,

Too,  If You'Ll Promise Me Not To Go Alpha Sig."

 

Carl Looked Up Wonderingly. "What!" He Exclaimed. "You'Ll Turn Down Nu

Delt If They Don'T Bid Me,  Too?"

 

"Yes,  Nu Delt Or Kappa Zete Or Any Other Bunch. Promise Me," He Urged;

"Promise Me."

 

Carl Understood The Magnitude Of The Sacrifice Offered,  And His Eyes

Became Dangerously Soft. "God! You'Re White,  Hugh," He Whispered

Huskily,  "White As Hell. You Go Nu Delt If They Ask You--But I Promise

You That I Won'T Go Alpha Sig Even If They Bid Me Without Pay." He Held

Out His Hand,  And Hugh Gripped It Hard. "I Promise," He Repeated,  "On My

Word Of Honor."

 

At Seven O'Clock Saturday Evening Every Freshman Who Had Any Reason At

All To Think That He Would Get A Bid--And Some That Had No

Reason--Collected In Nervous Groups In The Living-Room Of The Union. At

The Stroke Of Seven They Were Permitted To Move Up To A Long Row Of

Chapter 8 Pg 67

Tables Which Were Covered With Large Envelopes,  One For Every Freshman.

They Were Arranged In alphabetical Order,  And In an Incredibly Short

Time Each Man Found The One Addressed To Him. Some Of The Envelopes Were

Stuffed With Cards,  Each Containing The Freshman'S Name And The Name Of

The Fraternity Bidding Him; Some Of Them Contained Only One Or Two

Cards--And Some Of Them Were Empty. The Boys Who Drew Empty Envelopes

Instantly Left The Union Without A Word To Anybody; The Others Tried To

Find A Free Space Where They Could Scan Their Cards Unobserved. They

Were All Wildly Excited And Nervous. One Glance At The Cards,  And Their

Faces Either Lighted With Joy Or Went White With Disappointment.

 

Hugh Found Ten Cards In His Envelope--And One Of Them Had Nu Delta

Written On It. His Heart Leaped; For A Moment He Thought That He Was

Going To Cry. Then He Rushed Around The Union Looking For Carl. He Found

Him Staring At A Fan Of Cards,  Which He Was Holding Like A Hand Of

Bridge.

 

"What Luck?" Hugh Cried.

 

Carl Handed Him The Cards. "Lamp Those," He Said,  "And Then Explain.

They'Ve Got Me Stopped."

 

He Had Thirteen Bids,  One From Every Fraternity In Good Standing,

Including The So-Called Big Three.

 

When Hugh Saw The Nu Delta Card He Yelled With Delight.

 

"I Got A Nu Delt,  Too." His Voice Was Trembling With Excitement. "You'Ll

Go With Me,  Won'T You?"

 

"Of Course,  Hugh. But I Don'T Understand."

 

"Oh,  What'S The Dif? Let'S Go."

 

He Tucked His Arm In carl'S,  And The Two Of Them Passed Out Of The Union

On Their Way To The Nu Delta House. Later Both Of Them Understood.

 

Carl'S Good Looks,  His Excellent Clothes,  His Money,  And The Fact That

He Had Been To An Expensive Preparatory School Were Enough To Insure Him

Plenty Of Bids Even If He Had Been Considerably Less Of A Gentleman Than

He Was.

 

Already The Campus Was Ringing With Shouts As Freshmen Entered

Fraternity Houses,  Each Freshman Being Required To Report At Once To The

Fraternity Whose Bid He Was Accepting.

 

When Carl And Hugh Walked Up The Nu Delta Steps,  They Were Seized By

Waiting Upper-Classmen And Rushed Into The Living-Room,  Where They Were

Received With Loud Cheers,  Slapped On The Back,  And Passed Around The

Room,  Each Upper-Classman Shaking Hands With Them So Vigorously That

Their Hands Hurt For An Hour Afterward. What Pleasant Pain! Each New

Arrival Was Similarly Received,  But The Excitement Did Not Last Long.

Both The Freshmen And The Upper-Classmen Were Too Tired To Keep The

Enthusiasm At The Proper Pitch. At Nine O'Clock The Freshmen Were Sent

Home With Orders To Report The Next Evening At Eight.

 

Carl And Hugh,  Proudly Conscious Of The Pledge Buttons In The Lapels Of

Their Coats,  Walked Slowly Across The Campus,  Spent And Weary,  But

Chapter 8 Pg 68

Exquisitely Happy.

 

"They Bid Me On Account Of You," Carl Said Softly. "They Didn'T Think

They Could Get You Unless They Asked Me,  Too."

 

"No," Hugh Replied,  "You'Re Wrong. They Took You For Yourself. They Knew

You Would Go Where I Did,  And They Were Sure That I Would Go Their Way."

 

Hugh Was Quite Right. The Nu Deltas Had Felt Sure Of Both Of Them And

Had Not Rushed Them Harder Because They Were Too Busy To Waste Any Time

On Certainties.

 

Carl Stopped Suddenly. "God,  Hugh," He Exclaimed. "Just Suppose I Had

Offered The Alpha Sigs That Cash. God!"

 

"Aren'T You Glad You Didn'T?" Hugh Asked Happily.

 

"Glad? Glad? Boy,  I'M Bug-House. And," He Added Softly,  "I Know The Lad

I'Ve Got To Thank."

 

"Aw,  Go To Hell."

 

 

The Initiation Season Lasted Two Weeks,  And The Neophytes Found That The

Dormitory Initiations Had Been Merely Child'S Play. They Had To Account

For Every Hour,  And Except For A Brief Time Allowed Every Day For

Studying,  They Were Kept Busy Making Asses Of Themselves For The

Delectation Of The Upper-Classmen.

 

In The Nu Delta House A Freshman Had To Be On Guard Every Hour Of The

Day Up To Midnight. He Was Forced To Dress Himself In Some Outlandish

Costume,  The More Outlandish The Better,  And Announce Every One Who

Entered Or Left The House. "Mr. Standish Entering," He Would Bawl,  Or,

"Mr. Kerwin Leaving." If He Bawled Too Loudly,  He Was Paddled; If He

Didn'T Bawl Loudly Enough,  He Was Paddled; And If There Was No Fault To

Be Found With His Bawling; He Was Paddled Anyway. Every Freshman Had To

Supply His Own Paddle,  A Broad,  Stout Oak Affair Sold At The Cooperative

Store At A Handsome Profit.

 

If A Freshman Reported For Duty One Minute Late,  He Was Paddled; If He

Reported One Minute Early,  He Was Paddled. There Was No End To The

Paddling. "Assume The Angle," An Upper-Classman Would Roar. The

Unfortunate Freshman Then Humbly Bent Forward,  Gripped His Ankles With

His Hands--And Waited. The Worst Always Happened. The Upper-Classman

Brought The Paddle Down With A Resounding Whack On The Seat Of The

Freshman'S Trousers.

 

"Does It Hurt?"

 

"Yes,  Sir."

 

Another Resounding Whack. "_What?_"

 

"No--No,  Sir."

 

"Oh,  Well,  If It Doesn'T Hurt,  I Might As Well Give You Another One."

And He Gave Him Another One.

Chapter 8 Pg 69

A Freshman Was Paddled If He Forgot To Say "Sir" To An Upper-Classman;

He Was Paddled If He Neglected To Touch The Floor With His Fingers Every

Time He Passed Through A Door In The Fraternity House; He Was Paddled If

He Laughed When An Upper-Classman Told A Joke,  And He Was Paddled If He

Didn'T Laugh; He Was Paddled If He Failed To Return From An Errand In an

Inconceivably Short Time: He Was Paddled For Every And No Reason,  But

Mainly Because The Upper-Classmen,  The Sophomores Particularly,  Got

Boundless Delight Out Of Doing The Paddling.

 

Every Night A Freshman Stood On The Roof Of The Nu Delta House And

Announced The Time Every Fifteen Seconds. "One Minute And Fifteen

Seconds After Nine,  And All'S Well In The Halls Of Nu Delta; One Minute

And Thirty Seconds After Nine,  And All'S Well In The Halls Of Nu Delta;

One Minute And Forty-Five Seconds After Nine,  And All'S Well In The

Halls Of Nu Delta," And So On For An Hour. Then He Was Relieved By

Another Freshman,  Who Took Up The Chant.

 

Nightly The Freshmen Had To Entertain The Upper-Classmen,  And If The

Entertainment Wasn'T Satisfactory,  As It Never Was,  The Entertainers

Were Paddled. They Had To Run Races,  Shoving Pennies Across The Floor

With Their Noses. The Winner Was Paddled For Going Too Fast--"Didn'T He

Have Any Sense Of Sportsmanship?"--And The Loser Was Paddled For Going

Too Slow. Most Of The Freshmen Lost Skin Off Their Noses And Foreheads;

All Of Them Shivered At The Sight Of A Paddle. By The End Of The First

Week They Were Whispering To Each Other How Many Blisters They Had On

Their Buttocks.

 

It Was A Bitterly Cold Night In Late February When The Nu Deltas Took

The Freshmen For Their "Walk." They Drove In automobiles Fifteen Miles

Into The Country And Then Left The Freshmen To Walk Back. It Was Four

O'Clock In The Morning When The Miserable Freshmen Reached The Campus,

Half Frozen,  Unutterably Weary,  But Thankful That The End Of The

Initiation Was At Hand.

 

Hugh Was Thankful For Another Thing; The Nu Deltas Did Not Brand. He Had

Noticed Several Men In