In the autumn of 1869 Eugene entered the sophomore class at Knox College, Galesburg, Ill., where Professor John William Burgess, who had been chosen as his guardian, held the chair of logic, rhetoric, English literature, and political science.  But his career at Knox was practically a repetition of that at Williams.  He chafed under the restraint of set rules and the requirement of attention to studies in which he took no interest.  If he had been allowed to choose, he would have devoted his time to reading the Latin classics and declaiming—­that is, as much time as he could spare from plaguing the professors and interrupting the studies of his companions by every device of a festive and fertile imagination.

One year of this was enough for the faculty of Knox and for the restless scholar, so in the autumn of 1870 Eugene joined his brother Roswell in the junior class at the University of Missouri.  Here Eugene Field ended, without graduating, such education as the school and the university was ever to give him, for in the spring of 1871 he left Columbia for St. Louis, never to return—­a student at three universities and a graduate from none.

Of Eugene Field’s life in Columbia many stories abound there and throughout Missouri.  From the aged and honored historian of the university I have the following testimony as to the relations of the two brothers with that institution, premising it with the fact that all the official records of students were consumed in the fire that visited the university in 1892: 

Roswell M. Field attended the university as a freshman in 1868-69, as a sophomore in 1869-70, and as a junior in 1870-71.  He was a student of the institution these three sessions only.  His brother Eugene Field was a student of the junior class, session 1870-71, and never before or since.

I knew both of them well.  Eugene was an inattentive, indifferent student, making poor progress in the studies of the course—­a genial, sportive, song-singing, fun-making companion.  Nevertheless he was bright, sparkling, entertaining and a leader among “the boys.”  In truth he was in intellect above his fellows and a genius along his favorite lines.  He was prolific of harmless pranks and his school life was a big joke.

[Illustration:  THE OLD KNOX COLLEGE BUILDINGS, GALESBURG.  ILL.]

There has been preserved the following specimen of the “rigs” Eugene was in the habit of grinding out at the expense of the faculty—­this being aimed at President Daniel Reed (1868-77).  The poem is entitled: 

  BUCEPHALUS:  A TAIL.

  Twelve by the clock and all is well—­
  That is, I think so, but who can tell? 
  So quiet and still the city seems
  That even old Luna’s brightest beams
  Cannot a single soul discover
  Upon the streets the whole town over.