It was temperamentally impossible for Amory to get the best marks in school.
Miserable, confined to bounds, unpopular with both faculty and students--that was Amory's first term.

But at Christmas he had returned to Minneapolis, tight-lipped and strangely jubilant.
"Oh, I was sort of fresh at first," he told Frog Parker patronizingly, "but I got along fine--lightest man on the squad.

You ought to go away to school, Froggy.

It's great stuff." ***** INCIDENT OF THE WELL-MEANING PROFESSOR On the last night of his first term, Mr.Margotson, the senior master, sent word to study hall that Amory was to come to his room at nine.
Amory suspected that advice was forthcoming, but he determined to be courteous, because this Mr.Margotson had been kindly disposed toward him.
His summoner received him gravely, and motioned him to a chair.

He hemmed several times and looked consciously kind, as a man will when he knows he's on delicate ground.
"Amory," he began.