The Free
“ His good blade carves the casques of men , for the Free Lance
Vol. XVII.
“No use working any longer, fellows. We can’t move bolts like
these without a wrench. There is no dog over at this house or he
would have barked before this. Let’s go and get one. You and
Mac come along.”
Tedder, the speaker, Jackson and MacCormick went off in the
shadows toward a nearby farm house, and left the crowd to await
their return. The circumstances were these. Fifteen or eighteen
students had come from the college late Friday night to get an
engine from the old ore washer. It was a moonlit April night, and
the spirit had moved them to do something unusual. They had,
therefore, gotten a heavy wagon and had come for this engine,
and expected before morning to have it set up in some conspicu
ous place on the campus. While waiting for the wrench most of
them came out of the dark shed. Nearly all had old clothes on.
Loose, obsolete sweaters of strange colors were particularly com
mon. These with the old hats on their heads made them look
more like anarchists than students. The inevitable pipes and
cigarettes were lighted. Some backed the wagon into the shed to
the engine. Others explored the old washer. One got up on the
roof and twisted off the small brass whistle for a relic. A few
scanned the moon-lighted landscape and sleeping country into
which they had ventured.
The committee of three returned with the wrench rather sooner
thrusteth sure."
OCTOBER; 1903.
A DIPLOMATIC FARMER.
Lance.
No.i 4.