Tess of the Storm Country. Grace Miller White
in our fraternity … Mr. Manchester, introduce 'Mazuka.'"
The sophomore thus adjured, stepped nimbly to the corner, and lifting from a hook a long vicious-looking carpet beater, brought it toward Hall.
"Handle him with reverence," shouted the spokesman, taking it carefully in his hands and turning it over with a benign smile. "Many a time has 'Mazuka' done good service for this frat! You will understand," the freshmen heard him say, "that an indecorous smile on any of your faces will immediately call for three strokes from 'Mazuka,'" and he waved the carpet beater threateningly, "and for disobedience you will get five. We will now proceed to business. 'Captain' Jordan and 'Parson' Graves, please step forward … Blindfold the eyes of those two, Frank," Hall ended, addressing one of his classmates near him.
He turned to a group of his companions—and after whispering with them, came back saying aloud—"that's a good one to begin with."
Directing his eyes upon Jordan, he said:
"Down upon the floor and scramble like an egg, Captain."
A titter came from Billy Dillon.
"Duck that fresh chicken for laughing," shouted Hall, "and give him three strokes of the 'Mazuka.'"
A sophomore brought a pail of cold water, and two other students, grasping the little fellow, immersed his curly head in it. They then stood him on his feet and laid the carpet beater three times across his back. Billy almost wished he had not chosen the fraternity life, but the others were suffering with him, which made it easier than if he had been alone.
Meanwhile Dan Jordan was industriously trying to imitate a cooking egg.
"Scramble, Captain, scramble," cried a sophomore, prodding Jordan with a stick.
"Cook the 'Parson,' too," shouted some one, and Frederick was ordered to follow the movements of his friend.
A faint flush mounted to the broad brow of the minister's son and he hesitated.
"Bring the 'Mazuka,'" commanded Hall, and the eager sophomore rushed up with the persuader.
"Scramble, you," he roared, waving the carpet beater dangerously near Frederick's head, and down beside his strapping friend dropped the dignified Frederick—two more long legs, and two more heavy arms were wiggling over the floor.
"Those eggs are burning, give them some grease," suggested a senior from his seat near the wall.
An agile, willing sophomore snatched a bucket of water and emptied its contents over the two floundering giants. As the icy bath submerged the freshmen, Dan Jordan, sputtering and gasping, bounded to his feet.
"Five strokes of the 'Mazuka' for the 'Captain,'" shouted the delighted Manchester waving the carpet beater, "he got up without permission."
Three students held Jordan fast and the little sophomore, dancing with glee, belabored the huge half "scrambled egg," each blow resounding through the room.
"There! I guess that will hold him a while," chuckled the chastiser, putting the carpet beater under his arm, his face reflecting the pleasure of well-performed duty.
Frederick, wet and looking very bored, was still flopping about the floor, and after passing a few more remarks about rotten eggs and undignified positions, the sophomores allowed him to stand up.
"Now put the wet booby in the corner," ordered Hall, and Frederick was accordingly led away.
Oscar Brown and Jimmy Preston, a little pale after witnessing Dan Jordan's punishment, were then told to come forward. Both trembled perceptibly as they were blindfolded by a sophomore and commanded to lie upon their backs upon the floor.
"You fellows are going to get that dinner we promised you now," he said, stooping over the frightened prostrate students, and giving the bandages a last tightening pull; "the first course consists of something you are sure to like, and we guarantee them to be absolutely fresh. Bring the supper in, for these kids are hungry!"
Some one brought a dish and the two boys could plainly hear the rattle of the cover as it came off.
"Open your mouths," came the next command.
Oscar Brown timidly opened his lips and waited, but Jimmy Preston, thinking the joke had gone far enough, obstinately refused to open his lips.
Bang! came the carpet beater over the side of his leg, and his mouth flew open like a trapdoor.
"That's just a little reminder for you to do as you are told, Spuddy," the wielder of the "Mazuka" laughed.
"Here's the dinner, boys," cried Hall, "and I bet you can't imagine what we've brought you. … Do you know what that is, 'Shorts'?"
Brown shivered, for something snake-like and cold was drawn across his cheek.
"It's an angle worm," continued the speaker, "and you're going to eat it. … Don't be afraid, 'Spuddy,' you needn't wiggle, you are going to have one, too," he added the last part of the sentence, seeing a shudder pass over the form of the other blindfolded boy.
"Keep your mouths wide open," shouted a senior.
Simultaneously the two boys felt the promised but undesirable dinner drop into their mouths. With a groan Oscar Brown rolled over on his side and allowed his portion to fall slowly out. But Jimmy Preston, amid howls of joy from the onlookers, jumped to his feet and tore the bandage from his eyes.
"No fraternity for me," he yelled. "I've never heard of such a dirty trick. If you fellows—"
His disgusted gaze fell upon the plate held by a sophomore convulsed with laughter. Jimmy rubbed his eyes, blinked, and looked again—blank astonishment taking the place of his anger. In the dish were only a few strings of cold cooked macaroni.
"Golly! What a fool I am," and Jimmy glanced about upon the grinning faces with a sheepish air.
"That's what you are alright," said Manchester, trying to be serious and securing a better grip upon the carpet beater. "Who said you could take that bandage off. That will cost you five strokes of the 'Mazuka.' … Here, fellows, hold him on his stomach over that chair, so that I can get in some of my fine strokes. … One … two … three … four … five … "
Jimmy was jerked to his feet, the injured expression upon his sorrowful face plainly showing Manchester that his strokes had been telling ones.
"There! We're through with you for to-night, 'Spuddy,' old boy," said Manchester, proudly feeling his biceps. "Go sit down … if you can," and Jimmy limped away with a muttered "thank heaven."
During a conference in undertones, amid giggling and snickering, Richard unfolded a new plan. Then he said in a loud voice,
"One of you fellows see if the surgeon is here yet. And hurry back."
Billy Dillon who had remained in trembling silence during the proceedings, received his bandage without a complaint, although his face was ashy pale, and his knees shook beneath him as Hall approached.
What did they want a doctor for? They surely wouldn't do—anything bad enough to need a surgeon. Thoughts like these went racing through his frightened mind, the sophomore leading him in terrifying darkness to a chair near by. Silence fell upon the room, and all that Billy could hear was his own excited breathing, made louder by the explosive beats of his heart.
"Swipes," he heard Hall say, "we've decided that we can't stand that pretty face of yours around, but as we like you and don't want to send you away, we will change the expression on it. A gash on each of those rosy cheeks will alter your whole appearance, so much, that not one of your lady friends will ever recognize you again. In after days, when you grow to be a man, you will thank us for this. Frank, tell Dr. Wallace to come in."
A pause … and Billy heard the door open and close, and someone coming toward him, the person smelling strongly of drugs.
"Is this the unfortunate young man," asked a strange,