Word: markes
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...girls," said I, "You can't imagine how awfully comical Jack is; it's really painful at times. Why, he'll make you laugh till you shed every gray hair in your head. Talk about Mark Twain, - I tell you after you've been in the room with Jack half an hour you can take any story of Mark Twain's you please, and 't would make you weep to read it, it would seem so serious and sorrowful...
...like the north star, inasmuch as it was a polar luminary. It was also like a glass tube in a vessel of mercury, as it had no capillary attraction. Remembering my experience previous to the semi-annuals, I ventured the comparison, that a bald-head was like a high mark in N. H. 3; it made a fellow groan to get it, but once his, he would not part with it for the world...
...sale of tickets, funds for this statue were raised. Great disputes arose about the affair, however, and the monument was sent here for safe-keeping." Near by was a machine like a coffee-mill, with a trumpet-shaped mouth. "This," said my friend, 'is the great Tunnylaff or Marking-machine. It is in use in the Great College at America. A student's name is put in the hopper, the wheel is turned, and the mouth immediately speaks a number, which is the distinguishing mark of the student. The machine talks three languages, Latin, German, and English." The next curiosity...
...wish to suggest to certain instructors that recitations are voluntary. Those gentlemen seem to ignore this fact when they mark students who are constant in attendance at recitations with greater leniency than those who are frequently absent. If the Faculty has seen fit to make a rule which gives us voluntary recitations, professors have no right to take an independent position and to state that men will find it advantageous not to cut. Provided a man write an accurate examination-paper, it is decidedly unfair to take absences into consideration in making up the marks of any elective. In addition...
...quietly by the fire, neither stirring nor speaking. I looked on in dumb amazement; and then, as I looked, I saw him rise to his feet, with a livid light in his eyes; I saw him draw from his pocket a revolver and point it at some invisible mark. I tried to shriek for help; I tried to move. I might as well have been a statue. Then I saw the revolver snatched from him by a hand; I saw a face, distinct and clear as his own - a face whose every line is deeply imprinted on my memory...