One of them was so amused and excited
that he lost all self-control. He threw down his book, caught me with
his two hands about the waist, and tickled me so that I fell upon the
floor. Then they raised a shout. We have cool nights here, sometimes, in
the warmest weather, and we keep, on the foot-boards of our beds, cotton
comforters, called _delusions_, because they are so downy and light. Two
of the students took the Senior's comforter and laid it on me; then four
of them sat down, one on each corner, to keep me underneath. I have told
you that it was a sultry August day. I thought that I should smother. I
told them so, as well as my choked voice would allow; but one of them
said, in a soft, meek tone, as I writhed in distress, "Hush, Gustavus,
lie still; you are certainly laboring under a delusion." This was all
the more painful from its being so cruelly true, in a literal sense,
while I knew that they had reference to my views with regard to freedom,
in the word "delusion." What sustained me in those moments, dear Aunty?
It was not that I had myself stood by when this trick was played on
Freshmen, and encouraged it by my actions; no, a higher and holier power
than conscience of wrong-doing wrought upon me in those moments.
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