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Round the Red Lamp

His First Operation
It was the first day of the winter session, and the third year's man was walking with the
first year's man. Twelve o'clock was just booming out from the Tron Church.
"Let me see," said the third year's man. "You have never seen an operation?"
"Never."
"Then this way, please. This is Rutherford's historic bar. A glass of sherry, please, for this
gentleman. You are rather sensitive, are you not?"
"My nerves are not very strong, I am afraid."
"Hum! Another glass of sherry for this gentleman. We are going to an operation now, you
know."
The novice squared his shoulders and made a gallant attempt to look unconcerned.
"Nothing very bad--eh?"
"Well, yes--pretty bad."
"An--an amputation?"
"No; it's a bigger affair than that."
"I think--I think they must be expecting me at home."
"There's no sense in funking. If you don't go to-day, you must to-morrow. Better get it
over at once. Feel pretty fit?"
"Oh, yes; all right!" The smile was not a success.
"One more glass of sherry, then. Now come on or we shall be late. I want you to be well
in front."
"Surely that is not necessary."
"Oh, it is far better! What a drove of students! There are plenty of new men among them.
You can tell them easily enough, can't you? If they were going down to be operated upon
themselves, they could not look whiter."
"I don't think I should look as white."
 
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