They said we just had to go through
it, and after a while we'd get used to it and not mind it much."
"_I_ will!" Ramsey insisted. "I couldn't any more stand up there on my
feet and get to spoutin' about sociology and the radical metempsychorus
of the metaphysical bazoozum than I could fly a flyin' machine. Why,
I--"
"Oh, that wasn't anything," Fred interrupted. "The only one that talked
like that, he was that Blickens; he's a tutor, or something, and really
a member of the faculty. Most o' the others just kind of blah-blahhed
around, and what any of 'em tried to get off their chests hardly
amounted to terribly much."
"I don't care. I couldn't do it at _all!_"
"Well, the way it looks to me," Fred observed, "we simply _got_ to! From
what they tell me, the freshmen got to do more than anybody. Every other
Friday night, it's all freshmen and nothin' else. You get a postal card
on Monday morning in your mail, and it says 'Assignment' on it, and
then it's got written underneath what you haf to do the next Friday
night--oration or debate, or maybe just read from some old book or
something.
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