Great Stories of Humor - University Days - James Thurber (Abridged and Simplified)

Great Stories of Humor - University Days  James Thurber 

(Abridged and Simplified)

I passed all the subjects of my University, but I could never pass Botany. I could never learn the art of looking through a microscope. I never once saw a cell through a microscope. This used to enrage my instructor. All the other students of my class made satisfactory progress. 

My instructor repeatedly failed in his attempts to help me at the plant cells through the microscope. "I can't see anything". I would say. He would begin patiently enough, explaining how anybody can see through a microscope. But he would always end up in a fury, claiming that I could too see through the microscope but just pretended that I couldn't, 'It takes away all the beauty of the flower'. 

I used to tell him, 'We are not concerned solely with what I may call the mechanics of flowers'. 'Well', I'd say, 'I can't see anything'. Try it just once again', he'd say. I would put my eye to the microscope and see a confused mass of milky substance under it, 'I see what looks like a lot of milk', I would tell him. 

My instructor tried his utmost to make me do it, adjusting the instrument for me, but it was all in vain. I could see only a white film.

                            

I was promoted on condition that I should pass in Botany the next term. But there was no improvement in the situation. The professor had come back from vacation brown as a berry, bright-eyed, and eager to explain cell - structure again to his class. 

'Well', he said to me, cheerily, when we met in the first laboratory hour of the semester, 'we're going to see cells this. time, aren't we?, 'Yes, sir,' I said. While all other students studied through the instrument the structure of cells and drew diagrams of it all that I could see was a milky patch.

                            

We'll try it', the professor said to me, grimly, with every adjustment of the microscope known to man. I'll arrange this glass so that you see cells through it or I'll give up teaching. In twenty-two years of Botany, I ....". He cut oft abruptly for he was beginning to quiver all over.

                            

So we tried with every adjustment of the microscope known to man. At last I saw a collection of specks and spots. I hastily drew. The instructor came towards me hopefully thinking that I had at last succeeded in seeing the plant cells and drawing them. 

He looked at my cell drawing. 'What's that?' He asked, 'That's what I saw', I said, 'You didn't, you didn't, you didn't! he screamed, losing control of his temper instantly and he bent over and squinted into the microscope. His head snapped up. 'That's your eye', he shouted. 'You've fixed the lens so that it reflects! You've drawn your eye!'.

                            

Economics was another course that I found very difficult and managed to get through. It was especially confusing since I went to the Economics class straight from the Botany class. 

There was another student in my economics class who came there direct from a Physics laboratory. He was a tackle on the football team, named Bolenciecwez. He was a leading football player of the Ohio university team. In order to be eligible to play it was necessary to keep up in his studies. 

The difficulty was that he had no intelligence at all. All his teachers were anxious to see him pass. The Economics professor, a thin timid man named Bassum used to give him several clues to answerer questions. 'Name one means of transport', the professor said to him. No light came into the big tackle's eyes. 'Just any means of transport' said the professor. 

Bolenciewez sat staring at him. That is', pursued the professor, ‘any medium, agency, or method of going from one place to another'. Bolenciecwez had the look of a man who is being led into a trap. 'You may choose among steam, horsedrawn, or electrically propelled vehicles', said the instructor. 'I might suggest the one which we commonly take in making in long journeys across land'.

                               

There was a profound silence in which stirred uneasily including Bolenciecwez and Mr. Bassum. Mr. Bassum abruptly broke this silence in an amazing manner. "Choo-Choo-Choo', he said in a low voice. The various clues given by the professor were of no help to him. Even my classmates encouraged the professor, tried to prompt him to give an answer. But it was useless.

                              

"How did you come to college this year, Mr. Bolenciecwez?' asked the professor. ‘Chuffa, chuffa, chuffa, chuffa'. 

  

'My father sent me;, said the football player.

                             

'What on? asked Bassum.

                             

'I got an allowance;, said the tackle, in a low, husky voice, obviously embarrassed.

                             

'No, no', said Bassum. Name a means of transportation. What did you ride here on?' 'Train', said 

Bolenciecwez. 'quite right;, said the Professor. 'Now Mr. Nugent, will you tell us" The professor passed him to be eligible to play for the college.

                              

If I went through anguish in Botany and Economics for different reasons - gynnasium work was even worse. I don't like to think about it. They wouldn't let us play games or take exercises with our glasses on and I could not see with mine off. 

I bumped into professors, horizontal bars, agricultural students, and swinging iron rings. In order to pass gymnasium (which was included for graduation) I had to pass swimming test. I did not like swimming and the swimming instructor. 

But I managed to pass with. the help of another student. He gave my number to the swimming instructor, swam across the pool and got my pass.

                             

Another thing I didn't like about gymnasium work was that they made you strip the day you registered. It is impossible for me to be happy when I am stripped and being asked a lot of questions. 

Still, I did better than a lanky agricultural student who was cross - examined just before I was They asked each student what college he was in - that is, whether Arts, Engineering, commerce, or Agriculture. What college are you in?' the instructor snapped at the youth in front of me. 'Ohio State University', he said promptly.

                             

There was an agriculture student who decided to study journalism along with agriculture. The editor of the college magazine assigned him the task of writing about the horses and sheep in the animal husbandry department. The fellow had to visit cow barns, sheep house and the horse pavilion and write about them. 

He knew animals, but nevertheless his stories were dull and colorlessly written. The fellow did not know how to type and had a lot of difficulty in finding the letters "C' and 'L' in his typewriter. The editor of the college magazine told him to bring something hot to publish. He said it was not going to be difficult in a campus which had such a great number of cows and horses. 

He wanted the student to shoot over to the barns and dig up something lively. The fellow went and came back, and told the editor that he had something to write about. Soon he came with a typewriter sheet in his hand which contained a story about some disease that had broken out among the horses.

                        

Ohio State was a land grant University and therefore two years of military drill was compulsory. We were given some sort of training which was outmoded. We studied the tactics of the civil war even though the World War was going on at the time. 

Thousands of first year and second year students were climbing the old chemistry building. They were doing tactics which would be of no use in a real war. Some people used to think there was German money behind it, but nobody spoke boldly about it.

   

As a soldier I was never any good at all. Most of the cadets were no better than I. Once General Little-field, who was commandant of the cadet corps, popped up in front of me during regimental drill and snapped, 'You are the main trouble with this university!'. I think he meant that my type was the main trouble with the university but he may have meant me individually. 

I was mediocre at drill, certainly - that is until my senior year. Having failed at military drill at the end of the each preceding year, I had to do all the drilling over and again in the succeeding year. This made me the cadet who had done the maximum drilling. I was the only senior still in uniform. My uniform became old and too short for me.

                         

Once during a march, the commandant General Little-field gave commands in succession. 

                        

In about three minutes one hundred and nine men were marching in one direction and I was marching away from them at an angle of forty degrees, all alone. 'Company, halt!' shouted General Little-field, 'That man is the only man who has it right!' I was made a corporal for my achievement.

                        

The next day I was summoned by the General Little-field to his office. He was swatting flies when I went in. He was so absorbed in the activity that he had forgotten what he had sent me for. He snapped at me, cursed me and finally dismissed me.

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