"It isn't quite so boyish as Putnam Hall was--some of the seniors are young men--but that doesn't matter.

We are growing older ourselves." "Gracious, I'm not old!" cried Tom.

"Why, I feel like a two-year-old colt!" And to prove his words he did several steps of a jig.
Only about half of the students had as yet arrived, the others being expected that day, Friday, and Saturday.

The college coach was to bring in some of the boys about eleven o'clock, and the Rovers wondered if Songbird Powell would be among them.
"You'll like Songbird," said Dick to Stanley Browne.

"He's a great chap for manufacturing what he calls poetry, but he isn't one of the dreamy kind--he's as bright and chipper as you find 'em." The boys walked down to the gymnasium, and there Sam and Tom took a few turns on the bars and tried the wooden horses.