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Having declared himself in on a jolly college dinner, Mr. Dubley, member of the class of '88, counted on having a Hot Old Time. Now at a College Dinner the main idea is to get a flying start. It was to be a Dry dinner, so most of the sons of Bohunkus were doing what a Camel does just before crossing a Desert. At 8:15 the Crowd was herded into the banquet hall. Dr. Dubley found himself marooned between two pious elders. The Oysters had been warming up since 6:30. Fortunately, the soup was not warm enough to scald the thumb of a willing longshoreman who had been brought in as an extra waiter.
