The Plastic Age · Chapter 11 (2/2)

The college grew quieter and quieter as the day for the examinations approached. There were seminars on everything, even on the best way to prepare cribs. Certain students with low grades and less honor would somehow gravitate together and discuss plans for “foxing the profs.” Opinions differed. One man usually insisted that notes in the palm of the left hand were safe from detection, only to be met by the objection that they had to be written in ink, and if one’s hand perspired, “and it was sure as hell to,” nothing was left but an inky smear. Another held that a fellow could fasten a rubber band on his forearm and attach the notes to those, pulling them down when needed and then letting them snap back out of sight into safety. “But,” one of the conspirators was sure to object, “what th’ hell are you going to do if the band breaks?” Some of them insisted that notes placed in the inside of one’s goloshes⁠—all the students wore them but took them off in the examination-room⁠—could be easily read. “Yeah, but the proctors are wise to that stunt.” And so ad infinitum. Eventually all the “stunts” were used and many more. Not that all the students cheated. Everything considered, the percentage of cheaters was not great, but those who did cheat usually spent enough time evolving ingenious methods of preparing cribs and in preparing them to have learned their lessons honestly and well.

The night before the first examinations the campus was utterly quiet. Suddenly bedlam broke loose. Somehow every dormitory that contained freshmen became a madhouse at the same time. Hugh and Carl were in Surrey 19 earnestly studying. Freddy Dickson flung the door open and shouted hysterically, “The general science exam’s out!”

Hugh and Carl whirled around in their desk-chairs.

“What?” They shouted together.

“Yeah! One of the fellows saw it. A girl that works at the press copied down the exam and gave it to him.”

“What fellow? Where’s the exam?”

“I don’t know who the guy is, but Hubert Manning saw the exam.”

Hugh and Carl were out of their chairs in an instant, and the three boys rushed out of Surrey in search of Manning. They found him in his room telling a mob of excited classmates that he hadn’t seen the exam but that Harry Smithson had. Away went the crowd in search of Smithson, Carl and Hugh and Freddy in the midst of the excited, chattering lads. Smithson hadn’t seen the exam, but he had heard that Puddy McCumber had a copy.⁠ ⁠… Freshmen were running up and down stairs in the dormitories, shouting, “Have you seen the exam?” No, nobody had seen the exam, but some of the boys had been told definitely what the questions were going to be. No two seemed to agree on the questions, but everybody copied them down and then rushed on to search for a bona fide copy. They hurried from dormitory to dormitory, constantly shouting the same question, “Have you seen the exam?” There were men in every dormitory with a new list of questions, which were hastily scratched into notebooks by the eager seekers. Until midnight the excitement raged; then the campus quieted down as the freshmen began to study the long lists of questions.

“God!” said Carl as he scanned his list hopelessly, “these damn questions cover everything in the course and some things that I know damn well weren’t in it. What a lot of nuts we were. Let’s go to bed.”

“Carl,” Hugh wailed despondently, “I’m going to flunk that exam. I can’t answer a tenth of these questions. I can’t go to bed; I’ve got to study. Oh, Lord!”

“Don’t be a triple-plated jackass. Come on to bed. You’ll just get woozy if you stay up any longer.”

“All right,” Hugh agreed wearily. He went to bed, but many of the boys stayed up and studied, some of them all night.

The examinations were held in the gymnasium. Hundreds of classroom chairs were set in even rows. Nothing else was there, not even the gymnasium apparatus. A few years earlier a wily student had sneaked into the gymnasium the night before an examination and written his notes on a dumbbell hanging on the wall. The next day he calmly chose the seat in front of the dumbbell⁠—and proceeded to write a perfect examination. The annotated dumbbell was found later, and after that the walls were stripped clean of apparatus before the examinations began.

At a few minutes before nine the entire freshman class was grouped before the doors of the gymnasium, nervously talking, some of them glancing through their notes, others smoking⁠—some of them so rapidly that the cigarettes seemed to melt, others walking up and down, muttering and mumbling; all of them so excited, so tense that they hardly knew what they were doing. Hugh was trying to think of a dozen answers to questions that popped into his head, and he couldn’t think of anything.

Suddenly the doors were thrown open. Yelling, shoving each other about, fairly dancing in their eagerness and excitement, the freshmen rushed into the gymnasium. Hugh broke from the mob as quickly as possible, hurried to a chair, and snatched up a copy of the examination that was lying on its broad arm. At the first glance he thought that he could answer all the questions; a second glance revealed four that meant nothing to him. For a moment he was dizzy with hope and despair, and then, all at once, he felt quite calm. He pulled off his goloshes and prepared to go to work.

Within three minutes the noise had subsided. There was a rustling as the boys took off their baa-baa coats and goloshes, but after that there was no sound save the slow steps of the proctors pacing up and down the aisle. Once Hugh looked up, thinking desperately, almost seizing an idea that floated nebulous and necessary before him. A proctor that he knew caught his eye and smiled fatuously. Hugh did not smile back. He could have cried in his fury. The idea was gone forever.

Some of the students began to write immediately; some of them leaned back and stared at the ceiling; some of them chewed their pencils nervously; some of them leaned forward mercilessly pounding a knee; some of them kept running one or both hands through their hair; some of them wrote a little and then paused to gaze blankly before them or to tap their teeth with a pen or pencil: all of them were concentrating with an intensity that made the silence electric.

That proctor’s idiotic smile had thrown Hugh’s thoughts into what seemed hopeless confusion, but a small incident almost immediately brought order and relief. The gymnasium cat was wandering around the rear of the gymnasium. It attracted the attention of several of the students⁠—and of a proctor. Being very careful not to make any noise, he picked up the cat and started for the door. Almost instantly every student looked up; and then the stamping began. Four hundred freshmen stamped in rhythm to the proctor’s steps. He blushed violently, tried vainly to look unconcerned, and finally disappeared through the door with the cat. Hugh had stamped lustily and laughed in great glee at the proctor’s confusion; then he returned to his work, completely at ease, his nervousness gone.

One hour passed, two hours. Still the freshmen wrote; still the proctors paced up and down. Suddenly a proctor paused, stared intently at a youth who was leaning forward in his chair, walked quickly to him, and picked up one of his goloshes. The next instant he had a piece of paper in his hand and was, walking down the gymnasium after beckoning to the boy to follow him. The boy shoved his feet into his goloshes, pulled on his baa-baa coat, and, his face white and strained, marched down the aisle. The proctor spoke a few words to him at the door. He nodded, opened the door, left the gymnasium⁠—and five hours later the college.

Thus the college for ten days: the better students moderately calm, the others cramming information into aching heads, drinking unbelievable quantities of coffee, sitting up, many of them, all night, attending seminars or tutoring sessions, working for long hours in the library, finally taking the examination, only to start a new nerve-racking grind in preparation for the next one.

If a student failed in a course, he received a “flunk notice” from the registrar’s office within four days after the examination, so that four days after the last examination every student knew whether he had passed his courses or not. All those who failed to pass three courses were, as the students put it, “flunked out,” or as the registrar put it, “their connection with the college was severed.” Some of the flunkees took the news very casually, packed their trunks, sold their furniture, and departed; others frankly wept or hastened to their instructors to plead vainly that their grades be raised: all of them were required to leave Haydensville at once.

Hugh passed all of his courses but without distinction. His B in trigonometry did not give him great satisfaction inasmuch as he had received an A in exactly the same course in high school; nor was he particularly proud of his B in English, since he knew that with a little effort he could have “pulled” an A. The remainder of his grades were C’s and D’s, mostly D’s. He felt almost as much ashamed as Freddy Dickson, who somehow hadn’t “got going” and had been flunked out. Carl received nothing less than a C, and his record made Hugh more ashamed of his own. Carl never seemed to study, but he hadn’t disgraced himself.

Hugh spent many bitter hours thinking about his record. What would his folks think? Worse, what would they say? Finally he wrote to them:

Dear Mother and Dad:

I have just found out my grades. I think that they will be sent to you later. Well, I didn’t flunk out but my record isn’t so hot. Only two of my grades are any good. I got a B in English and Math but the others are all C’s and D’s. I know that you will be ashamed of me and I’m awfully sorry. I’ve thought of lots of excuses to write to you, but I guess I won’t write them. I know that I didn’t study hard enough. I had too much fun.

I promise you that I’ll do better next time. I know that I can. Please don’t scold me.

All that his mother wrote in reply was, “Of course, you will do better next time.” The kindness hurt dreadfully. Hugh wished that she had scolded him.