Ralph Henry Barbour

“ The crowd applauded, merrily.
"Dear little boys and girls," began Satherwaite, in a quavering voice.
"No girls!" cried Doak.
"I want the cranberries!" cried Smith; "I love cranberries."
"I get the pop-corn, then!" That was the sedate Ailworth.
"You'll be beastly sick," said Doak, grinning jovially through his glasses.
Satherwaite untied the first package from its twig. It bore the inscription, "For Little Willie Kranch." Every one gathered around while the recipient undid the wrappings, and laid bare a pen-wiper adorned with a tiny crimson football. ”

“ He liked Doyle, always had, just as any man must like an honest, earnest, gentlemanly fellow, whether their paths run parallel or cross only at rare intervals. He and Doyle were not at all in the same coterie. Satherwaite's friends were the richest, and sometimes the laziest, men in college; Doyle's were—well, presumably men who, like himself, had only enough money to scrape through from September to June, who studied hard for degrees, whose viewpoint of university life must, of necessity, be widely separated from Satherwaite's. ”

“ Ailworth nodded appreciatingly, now and then, and Doak even slapped his knee once and giggled aloud. Satherwaite left out all mention of Phil's sister, naturally, and ended with:
"And so, when I saw you fellows having such a Christian, comfortable sort of a time, I simply couldn't break away again. I knew I was risking getting myself heartily disliked, and, really, I wouldn't blame you if you arose en masse and kicked me out. But I am desperate. Give me some tobacco from time to time, and just let me sit here and listen to you; it will be a kindly act to a homeless orphan." ”

“ If you'd rather not take it, why, chuck it out of the window!"
"It isn't that," cried Doyle; "it's only that it's much too fine——"
"Oh, no, it isn't," said Satherwaite. "Now, then, where's 'Little Alfie Ailworth'?"
Small candy canes followed the packages, and the men drew once more around the hearth, munching the pink and white confectionery, enjoyingly. Smith insisted upon having the cranberries, and wore them around his neck. The pop-corn was distributed equally, and the next day, in the parlor-car Satherwaite drew his from a pocket together with his handkerchief. ”

“ Advise your not coming. Aunt Louise very ill. Merry Christmas.
Phil.
"'Merry Christmas!'" growled Satherwaite, throwing the offending sheet of buff paper into the flames. "Looks like it, doesn't it? Confound Phil's Aunt Louise, anyway! What business has she getting sick at Christmas time? Not, of course, that I wish the old lady any harm, but it—it—well, it's wretched luck."
When at college, Phil was the occupant of the bedroom that lay in darkness beyond the half-opened door to the right. ”

“ He pictured himself to his audience on the verge of suicide from melancholia, and assured them that this fate had been averted only through his dislike of being found lifeless amid such untidy surroundings. ”

“ The man in the cricket-blazer turned out to be Doak, '03, the man who had won the Jonas Greeve scholarship; a small youth with eagle-like countenance was Somers, he who had debated so brilliantly against Princeton; a much-bewhiskered man was Ailworth, of the Law School; Kranch and Smith, both members of Satherwaite's class, completed the party. Satherwaite shook hands with those within reach, and looked for a chair. Instantly, every one was on his feet ”

“ From five to six, he had remained in a torpor of disappointment, smoking pipe after pipe, and continually wondering whether Phil's sister would care. At six, his own boarding-house being closed for the recess, he had trudged through the snow to a restaurant in the square, and had dined miserably on lukewarm turkey and lumpy mashed potatoes. ”