74
PARTISAN REYIEW
All
Howe's private ironies protested the vulgarity of the joke
hut
the laughter made him feel benign and powerful.
When the little speech was finished, Howe picked up the pad
of paper he had brought. He announced that they would write an
extemporaneous theme. Its subject was traditional, "Who I am
and why I came to Dwight College." By now the class was more
at ease and it gave a ritualistic groan of protest. Then there
was
a stir as fountain-pens were brought out and the writing arms of
the chairs were cleared and the paper was passed about. At last
all the heads bent to work and the room became still.
Howe sat idly at his desk. The sun shone through the
tall
clumsy windows. The cool of the morning was already passing.
There was a scent of autumn and of varnish, and the stillness of
the room was deep and oddly touching. Now and then a student's
head was raised and scratched in the old elaborate students' pan·
tomime that calls the teacher to witness honest intellectual effort.
Suddenly a tall hoy stood within the frame of the open door.
"Is this," he said, and thrust a large nose into a college catalogue,
" is this the meeting place of English
lA?
The section instructed
by
Dr. Joseph Howe?"
He stood on the very sill of the door, as if refusing to enter
until he was perfectly sure of all his rights. The class looked
up from work, found him absurd and gave a low mocking cheer.
The teacher and the new student, with equal pointedness,
ignored the disturbance. Howe nodded to the . boy, who pushed
his head forward and then jerked it back in a wide elaborate arc
to clear his brow of a heavy lock of hair. He advanced into the
room and halted ·before Howe, almost at attention. In a loud
clear voice he announced, "I am Tertan, Ferdinand
R.,
reporting
at the direction of Head of Department Vincent."
The heraldic formality of this statement brought forth another
cheer. Howe looked at the class with a sternness he could not
really feel, for there was indeed something ridiculous about this
boy. Under his displeased regard the rows of heads dropped to
work again. Then he touched Tertan's elbow, led him up to the
desk and stood so as to shield their conversation from the class.
"We are writing an extemporaneous theme," he said. "The
subject is, 'Who I am and why I came to Dwight College'."
He stripped a few sheets from the pad and offered them to
