engine of Dr. Stanpole’s car when it turned over with special reluctance, and a thin, lonely
whistling the wind sometimes made high in the still-bare trees. These formed the background for
the dull hum of talk in Finny’s room as Phil Latham, Dr. Stanpole and the night nurse worked
over him.
What could they be talking about? The night nurse had always been the biggest windbag in the
school. Miss Windbag, R.N. Phil Latham, on the other hand, hardly ever spoke. One of the few
things he said was “Give it the old college try”—he thought of everything in terms of the old
college try, and he had told students to attack their studies, their sports, religious waverings,
sexual maladjustments, physical handicaps and a constellation of other problems with the old
college try. I listened tensely for his voice. I listened so hard that I nearly differentiated it from
the others, and it seemed to be saying, “Finny, give that bone the old college try.”
I was quite a card tonight myself.
Phil Latham’s college was Harvard, although I had heard that he only lasted there a year.
Probably he had said to someone to give something the old college try, and that had finished
him; that would probably be grounds for expulsion at Harvard. There couldn’t possibly be such a
thing as the old Harvard try. Could there be the old Devon try? The old Devon endeavor? The
decrepit Devon endeavor? That was good, the decrepit Devon endeavor. I’d use that some time
in the Butt Room. That was pretty funny. I’ll bet I could get a rise out of Finny with—
Dr. Stanpole was fairly gabby too. What was he always saying. Nothing. Nothing? Well there
must be something he was always saying. Everybody had something, some word, some phrase
that they were always saying. The trouble with Dr. Stanpole was that his vocabulary was too
large. He talked in a huge circle, he probably had a million words in his vocabulary and he had to
use them all before he started over again.
That’s probably the way they were talking in there now. Dr. Stanpole was working his way as
fast as possible around his big circle, Miss Windbag was gasping out something or other all the
time, and Phil Latham was saying, “Give ‘er the old college try, Finny.” Phineas of course was
answering them only in Latin.
I nearly laughed out loud at that.
Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres —Finny probably answered that whenever Phil Latham
spoke. Phil Latham would look rather blank at that.
Did Finny like Phil Latham? Yes, of course he did. But wouldn’t it be funny if he suddenly
turned to him and said, “Phil Latham, you’re a boob.” That would be funny in a way. And what
about if he said, “Dr. Stanpole, old pal, you’re the most long-winded licensed medical man
alive.” And it would be even funnier if he interrupted that night nurse and said, “Miss Windbag,
you’re rotten, rotten to the core. I just thought I ought to tell you.” It would never occur to Finny
to say any of these things, but they struck me as so outrageous that I couldn’t stop myself from
laughing. I put my hand over my mouth; then I tried to stop my mouth with my fist; if I couldn’t
get control of this laughing they would hear me in the room. I was laughing so hard it hurt my