The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📖
- Author: Percy Marks
Book online «The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📖». Author Percy Marks
Every One Knew That He Referred To The National President Of The
Fraternity. "There Will Be No More Drunken Brawls In This House Such As
We Had At The Last House Dance. Any One Who Brings A Cheap Woman Into
This House At A Dance Will Hear From It. Both My Fiancee And My Sister
Were At The Last Dance. I Do Not Intend That They Shall Be Insulted
Again. This Is Not A Bawdy-House, And I Want Some Of You To Remember
That."
He Tried Very Hard To Pass A Rule, Such As Many Of The Fraternities Had,
That No One Could Bring Liquor Into The House And That There Should Be
No Gambling. He Failed, However. The Brothers Took His Scolding About
The Dance Because Most Of Them Were Heartily Ashamed Of That Occasion;
But They Announced That They Did Not Intend To Have The Chapter Turned
Into The S.C.A., Which Was The Sanford Christian Association. It Would
Have Been Well For Hugh If The Law Had Been Passed. Vinton'S Insistent
Generosity Was Rapidly Turning Him Into A Steady Drinker. He Did Not Get
Drunk, But He Was Taking Down More High-Balls Than Were Good For Him.
Outside Of His Drinking, However, He Was Leading A Virtuous And, On The
Whole, An Industrious Life. He Was Too Much In Love With Cynthia Day To
Let His Mind Dwell On Other Women, And He Had Become Sufficiently
Interested In His Studies To Like Them For Their Own Sake.
A Change Had Come Over The Campus. It Was Inexplicable But Highly
Significant. There Had Been Evidences Of It The Year Before, But Now It
Became So Evident That Even Some Of The Members Of The Faculty Were
Aware Of It. Intolerance Seemed To Be Dying, And The Word "Wet" Was
Heard Less Often. The Undergraduates Were Forsaking Their Old Gods. The
Wave Of Materialism Was Swept Back By An In-Rushing Tide Of Idealism.
Students Suddenly Ceased To Concentrate In economics And Filled The
English And Philosophy Classes To Overflowing.
Chapter 15 Pg 114No One Was Able Really To Explain The Causes For The Change, But It Was
There And Welcome. The "Sanford Literary Magazine," Which Had Been
Slowly Perishing For Several Years, Became Almost As Popular As The "Cap
And Bells," The Comic Magazine, Which Coined Money By Publishing Risque
Jokes And Pictures Of Slightly Dressed Women. A Poetry Magazine Daringly
Made Its Appearance On The Campus And, To The Surprise Of Its Editors,
Was Received So Cordially That They Were Able To Pay The Printer'S Bill.
It Became The Fashion To Read. Instructors In english Were Continually
Being Asked What The Best New Books Were Or If Such And Such A Book Was
All That It Was "Cracked Up To Be." If The Instructor Hadn'T Read The
Book, He Was Treated To A Look Of Contempt That Sent Him Hastening To
The Library.
Of Course, Not All Of The Undergraduates Took To Reading And Thinking;
The Millennium Had Not Arrived, But The Intelligent Majority Began To
Read And Discuss Books Openly, And The Intelligent Majority Ruled The
Campus.
Hugh Was One Of The Most Enthusiastic Of The Readers. He Was Taking A
Course In Nineteenth-Century Poetry With Blake, The Head Of The English
Department. His Other Instructors Either Bored Him Or Left Him Cold, But
Blake Turned Each Class Hour Into A Thrilling Experience. He Was A
Handsome Man With Gray Hair, Dark Eyes, And A Magnificent Voice. He
Taught Poetry Almost Entirely By Reading It, Only Occasionally
Interpolating An Explanatory Remark, And He Read Beautifully. His
Reading Was Dramatic, Almost Tricky; But It Made The Poems Live For His
Students, And They Reveled In His Classes.
Hugh'S Junior Year Was Made Almost Beautiful By That Poetry Course And
By His Adoration For Cynthia. He Was Writing Verses Constantly--And He
Found "Cynthia" An Exceedingly Troublesome Word; It Seemed As If Nothing
Would Rime With It. At Times He Thought Of Taking To Free Verse, But The
Results Of His Efforts Did Not Satisfy Him. He Always Had The Feeling
That He Had Merely Chopped Up Some Rather Bad Prose; And He Was
Invariably Right. Cynthia Wrote Him That She Loved The Poems He Sent
Her Because They Were So Passionate. He Blushed When He Read Her Praise.
It Disturbed Him. He Wished That She Had Used A Different Word.
Chapter 16 Pg 115
For The First Term Hugh Slid Comfortably Down A Well Oiled Groove Of
Routine. He Went To The Movies Regularly, Wrote As Regularly To Cynthia
And Thought About Her Even More, Read Enormous Quantities Of Poetry,
"Bulled" With His Friends, Attended All The Athletic Contests, Played
Cards Occasionally, And Received His Daily Liquor From Vinton. He No
Longer Protested When Vinton Offered Him A Drink; He Accepted It As A
Matter Of Course, And He Had Almost Completely Forgotten That "Smoking
Wasn'T Good For A Runner." He Had Just About Decided That He Wasn'T A
Runner, Anyway.
Chapter 16 Pg 116
One Evening In early Spring He Met George Winsor As He Was Crossing The
Campus.
"Hello, George. Where Are You Going?"
"Over To Ted Alien'S Room. Big Poker Party To-Night. Don'T You Want To
Sit In?"
"You Told Me Last Week That You Had Sworn Off Poker. How Come You'Re
Playing Again So Soon?" Hugh Strolled Lazily Along With Winsor.
"Not Poker, Hugh--Craps. I'Ve Sworn Off Craps For Good, And Maybe I'Ll
Swear Off Poker After To-Night. I'M Nearly A Hundred Berries To The Good
Right Now, And I Can Afford To Play If I Want To."
"I'M A Little Ahead Myself," Said Hugh. "I Don'T Play Very Often,
Though, Except In The House When The Fellows Insist. I Can'T Shoot Craps
At All, And I Get Tired Of Cards After A Couple Of Hours."
"I'M A Damn Fool To Play," Winsor Asserted Positively, "A Plain Damn
Fool, I Oughtn'T To Waste My Time At It, But I'M A Regular Fiend For The
Game. I Get A Great Kick Out Of It. How'S To Sit In With Us? There'S
Only Going To Be Half A Dozen Fellows. Two-Bit Limit."
"Yeah, It'Ll Start With A Two-Bit Limit, But After An Hour Deuces'Ll Be
Wild All Over The Place And The Sky Will Be The Limit. I'Ve Sat In Those
Games Before."
Winsor Laughed. "Guess You'Re Right, But What'S The Odds? Better Shoot A
Few Hands."
"Well, All-Right, But I Can'T Stay Later Than Eleven. I'Ve Got A Quiz In
Eccy To-Morrow, And I'Ve Got To Bone Up On It Some Time To-Night."
"I'Ve Got That Quiz, Too. I'Ll Leave With You At Eleven."
Winsor And Hugh Entered The Dormitory And Climbed The Stairs. Allen'S
Door Was Open, And Several Undergraduates Were Lolling Around The Room,
Smoking And Chatting. They Welcomed The New-Comers With Shouts Of "Hi,
Hugh," And "Hi, George."
Allen Had A Large Round Table In The Center Of His Study, And The Boys
Soon Had It Cleared For Action. Allen Tossed The Cards Upon The Table,
Produced Several Ash-Trays, And Then Carefully Locked The Door.
"Keep An Ear Open For Mac," He Admonished His Friends; "He'S Warned Me
Twice Now," "Mac" Was The Night-Watchman, And He Had A Way Of Dropping
In Unexpectedly On Gambling Parties. "Here Are The Chips. You Count 'Em
Out, George. Two-Bit Limit."
The Boys Drew Up Chairs To The Table, Lighted Cigarettes Or Pipes, And
Began The Game. Hugh Had Been Right; The "Two-Bit Limit" Was Soon
Lifted, And Allen Urged His Guests To Go As Far As They Liked.
There Were Ugly Rumors About Allen Around The Campus. He Was Good
Chapter 16 Pg 117Looking, Belonged To A Fraternity In High Standing, Wore Excellent
Clothes, And Did Fairly Well In His Studies; But The Rumors Persisted.
There Were Students Who Insisted That He Hadn'T The Conscience Of A
Snake, And A Good Many Of Them Hinted That No Honest Man Ever Had Such
Consistently Good Luck At Cards And Dice.
The Other Boys Soon Got Heated And Talkative, But Allen Said Little
Besides Announcing His Bids. His Blue Eyes Remained Coldly
Expressionless Whether He Won Or Lost The Hand; His Crisp, Curly Brown
Hair Remained Neatly Combed And Untouched By A Nervous Hand; His Lips
Parted Occasionally In a Quiet Smile: He Was The Perfect Gambler, Never
Excited, Always In absolute Control Of Himself.
Hugh Marveled At The Control As The Evening Wore On. He Was Excited,
And, Try As He Would, He Could Not Keep His Excitement From Showing.
Luck, However, Was With Him; By Ten O'Clock He Was Seventy-Five Dollars
Ahead, And Most Of It Was Allen'S Money.
Hugh Passed By Three Hands In Succession, Unwilling To Take Any Chances.
He Had Decided To "Play Close," Never Betting Unless He Held Something
Worth Putting His Money On.
Allen Dealt The Fourth Hand. "Ante Up," He Said Quietly. The Five Other
Men Followed His Lead In Tossing Chips Into The Center Of The Table. He
Looked At His Hand. "Two Blue Ones If You Want To Stay In." Winsor And
Two Of The Men Threw Down Their Cards, But Hugh And A Lad Named Mandel
Each Shoved Two Blue Chips Into The Pot.
Hugh Had Three Queens And An Ace. "One Card," He Said To Allen. Allen
Tossed Him The Card, And Hugh'S Heart Leaped When He Saw That It Was An
Ace.
"Two Cards, Ted," Mandel Requested, Nervously Crushing His Cigarette In
An Ash-Tray. He Picked Up The Cards One At A Time, Lifting Each Slowly
By One Corner, And Peeking At It As If He Were Afraid That A Sudden Full
View Would Blast Him To Eternity. His Face Did Not Change Expression As
He Added The Cards To The Three That He Held In His Hand.
"I'M Sitting Pretty," Allen Remarked Casually, Picking
Comments (0)