This is--er--awful, don't you know!" fairly panted the dude.

He had stood up, but now the carriage gave a jolt and down he sat very suddenly.
On through the town and straight for the college drove the two turnouts, the students yelling themselves hoarse.

Many at Brill had been let into the secret, and when the grounds were reached a big crowd was congregated, to take part in the sport.
"Here they are!" "Hurrah for Lord Tubbs!" "How are you, Duke William Philander!" "Do you wear the order of the Red Garter ?" "No, it's the Blue Suspender he was decorated with." "Speech! speech!" came the cry from every side.
Then the carriage came to a halt and was immediately surrounded by a howling mob.

A few had flowers that they threw at William Philander, while others had supplied themselves with stalks of celery, carrot and beet tops, and similar things, which they sent forward with force and directness.
"Here's a bouquet for you!" "My kindest regards, Tubbs!" "Oh, isn't it grand to be a real, live Emperor!" "Hi, let up, will you!" fairly shrieked poor Tubbs, as the things hit him in the head and shoulders, "Let up, I tell you! Oh, what a joke! Let me get out of the carriage! I can't make a speech! Stop throwing at me! Oh, my eye!" he added, as a beet top caught him in the left optic.

Then, watching his chance, he leaped from the carriage, dove like a madman through the crowd, and rushed for one of the dormitories, quickly disappearing from view.
"Good bye, my boy, good bye!" sang out several.