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Narcissus Off Duty
TheilliterateathleteslikeLangueducthinkhe’sgettingeccentric,buttheyjustsay,’GoodoldBurnehasgotsomequeerideasinhishead,’andpasson—thePhariseeclass—Gee!theyridiculehimunmercifully."
ThenextmorninghemetBurnehurryingalongMcCoshwalkafterarecitation.
"Whitherbound,Tsar?"
"OvertothePrinceofficetoseeFerrenby,"hewavedacopyofthemorning’sPrincetonianatAmory."Hewrotethiseditorial."
"Goingtoflayhimalive?"
"No—buthe’sgotmeallballedup.EitherI’vemisjudgedhimorhe’ssuddenlybecometheworld’sworstradical."
Burnehurriedon,anditwasseveraldaysbeforeAmoryheardanaccountoftheensuingconversation.Burnehadcomeintotheeditor’ssanctumdisplayingthepapercheerfully.
"Hello,Jesse."
"Hellothere,Savonarola."
"Ijustreadyoureditorial."
"Goodboy—didn’tknowyoustoopedthatlow."
"Jesse,youstartledme."
"Howso?"
"Aren’tyouafraidthefaculty’llgetafteryouifyoupullthisirreligiousstuff?"
"What?"
"Likethismorning."
"Whatthedevil—thateditorialwasonthecoachingsystem."
"Yes,butthatquotation—"
Jessesatup.
"Whatquotation?"
"Youknow:’Hewhoisnotwithmeisagainstme.’"
"Well—whataboutit?"
Jessewaspuzzledbutnotalarmed.
"Well,yousayhere—letmesee."Burneopenedthepaperandread:"’Hewhoisnotwithmeisagainstme,asthatgentlemansaidwhowasnotoriouslycapableofonlycoarsedistinctionsandpuerilegeneralities.