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" after this—the deluge, I suppose," quoted Tom Parsons as he gazed moodily out of the window of his study, and watched the raindrops splashing on the ledge, running down the pipe, and forming one of many streams that trickled over the green college campus. "Is it never going to stop?" he went on, turning toward his three chums. "It's rained now"

"Oh, for the love of differential calculus!" cried Phil Clinton, "can't you talk of anything but the weather, Tom? I'm sick of hearing it discussed."

"No sicker than I am of hearing it pour," retorted the first speaker.

"The rain certainly does seem to stick around," added Sid Henderson, as he endeavored to arise from a decrepit armchair—one of the twins—that added comfort to the college study. "I'm so damp, and altogether gluey, that it's all I can do