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HE fall term of the university opened, and now the Professor went to his lectures instead of to the lake. He supposed he did his work; he heard no complaints from his assistants, and the students seemed interested. He found, however, that he wasn’t willing to take the trouble to learn the names of several hundred new students. It wasn’t worth while. He felt that his relations with them would be of short duration.

The McGregors got home from their vacation in Oregon, and Scott was much amused to find the Professor so doggedly anchored in the old house.

“It never struck me, Doctor, that you were a man who would be keeping up two establishments. They’ll be coming home pretty soon, and then you’ll have to decide where you are going to live.”

“I can’t leave my study, Scott. That’s flat.”

“Don’t, then! Darn it, you’ve a right to two houses if you want ’em.”

This encounter took place on the street in front of the house. The Professor went wearily upstairs and lay down on the couch, his refuge from this ever-increasing fatigue. He really didn’t see what