“Oh, I laughed all right, and I’d have given those fellows something to laugh about too, if they hadn’t tied me up.”

“Of course, but the trouble is they did tie you up, and the next time it’ll be worse than that.  It isn’t worth while to kick too hard, Peter John.  A fellow has just got to take some things in life as he finds them and not as he’d like to have them.  It’s the only way, and the sooner he learns it the better.”

“But my father told me never to let anybody impose on me,” said Peter John dubiously.

“Nobody is going to impose on you.  You won’t be doing anything more than every fellow in the class, and if you don’t go in you’ll be the one marked exception.  The sophs will take it as an invitation.”

“You think so, do you?”

“Yes, sir, I do.  Come along, Peter John, and don’t make any more fuss about it.”

“Well, I’ll think about it,” replied the freshman as he departed for his own room in Leland Hall.

Saturday dawned bright and clear and the interest and excitement in the college over the parade rose to its highest point.  A band had been secured from a neighboring city, and in the afternoon, when its stirring strains were heard from the steps of the gymnasium, all the freshmen were made aware that the time for their assembly had arrived.  There were crowds of strangers to be seen about the streets and the little town was all active with unwonted bustle.  Automobiles were arriving, the sophomores were assembling at the various buildings, and their jeers and cries could be heard as they greeted the appearance of the members of the class below them when they started for the gymnasium.

Will Phelps and Foster Bennett felt keenly the prevailing excitement, and when they entered the gymnasium building they found a large number of their own classmates already assembled and keenly alive to the demands that were soon to be made upon them.

Under the experienced guidance of the committee of juniors the freshmen were soon equipped for their various parts and the procession was formed.  In advance moved the band and behind it was a huge hay wagon in which in great dignity were seated six of the seniors.  The wagon itself was drawn by sixteen freshmen, all of whom had a tight grasp upon the ropes that had been fastened to the wagon tongue.  Directly behind the wagon came Will Phelps and Foster Bennett and two of their classmates, all dressed in the garb of firemen, with red jackets and helmet hats of paper.  In their hands was a huge rope at least two and a half inches in diameter, which was attached to a tiny tin fire engine not more than a foot in length.  Behind the firemen came Hawley, who was dressed as an infant with a lace cap on his head and carefully tied bows under his chin, while in his hands he was carrying a bottle of milk.  He was seated in an improvised baby carriage, which was being pushed by one of the smallest members of the freshman class.