On my part, I prefer to use rose-colored ones, and expect the best sort of things to happen, even if I do get fooled lots of times." A number of well-grown lads were perched in all sorts of grotesque attitudes along the top rail of the campus fence.

That same fence of Scranton High was almost as famous, in its modest way, as the one at Yale known throughout the length and breadth of the whole land.
It had stood there, repaired at stated and frequent intervals, for at least two score of years.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Scranton lads, long since grown to manhood, and many of them gone forth to take their appointed places in the busy marts of the world, kept a warm corner in their hearts for sacred memories of that dear old fence.

Many a glorious campaign of sport or mischief had been talked over by a line of students perched along the flat rail at the summit of that same fence.

More than one contemplated school mutiny had been hatched in excited whispers amidst those never-to-be-forgotten historic surroundings.
Why, when a few years back the unthinking and officious School Directors voted to have that fence demolished, simply because it seemed to be out of keeping with the grand new building that had been erected, a storm of angry protest arose from students and parents; while letters arrived from a score and more of eminent men who were proud to call Scranton their birthplace.