Guest in Our House

Planting his feet carefully in the icy ruts, a Freshman shivered across Mass Avenue toward Hayes-Bickford. It was cold and he had 123 more pages of Thompson and Johnson. As he reached the sidewalk something fell away from a dark figure in front of him. It was one of the Navy men, who'd dropped a book. The Freshmen leaned down at the same time as the man with the stocking cap on, and picked up the book and handed it to him. They both went into Hayes-Bick, and, walking in, the Freshman said, "Sort of cold, isn't it?"

After he'd bought and eaten two toasted cinnies and a cup of coffee, the Freshman pushed into his coat again, and started out. The Navy man was ahead of him, and was putting on his gloves outside when the old-type Yardling walked through the second swing door. The officer, waiting, turned around. He hesitated. "I want to shake your hand," he said. "I've been in this place for three months and you're the first Harvard man that's spoken to me."