How far either of them is wrong our
space does not permit us to say. Both have a supreme contempt for
students, regarding them as effeminate cumberers of the ground. In the
presence of Bill, "the Professor" does not appear to advantage. Being
entirely unable to compete with him in a war of words, he is usually
forced to betake himself to dancing; which, compared with oratory, is
frivolous.
Occasionally the adversities of life seem to press upon Bill with
peculiar force, rendering him extremely dejected. At such times,
though his flow of language does not forsake him, he is without that
cheerful aspect and spontaneous expression ordinarily so
characteristic. No longer does he cause the campus to ring with his
hearty vociferation, but he grumbles very like an ordinary mortal:
"I tell yer now I don't believe no man ever got rich sawin' wood. I
tell yer it's hard work to saw wood all day and car' it up two pa'r
stairs on yer back. I've sawed wood mor'n thirty years. You ask Mist'r
Tatlock, if yer don't believe it. Mist'r Tatlock's nice man. There
ain't no temptations about him.
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