"And you must have a room where the fellows can come to see you."

"What's the matter with this one?"

A hint of friendly patronage crept into the manner of the junior.
"My dear chap, college isn't worth doing at all unless you do it
right. You're here to get in with the best fellows and to make
connections that will help you later. That sort of thing, you
know."

Into Jeff's face came the light that always transfigured its
plainness when he was in the grip of an idea. "Hold on, J. K.
Let's get at this right. Is that what I'm here for? I didn't know
it. There's a hazy notion in my noodle that I'm here to develop
myself."

"That's what I'm telling you. Go in for the things that count.
Make a good frat. Win out at football or debating. I don't give a
hang what you go after, but follow the ball and keep on the jump.
I'm strong with the crowd that runs things and I'll see they take
you in and make you a cog of the machine. But you'll have to
measure up to specifications."

"But, hang it, I don't want to be a cog in any machine. I'm here
to give myself a chance to grow--sit out in the sun and hatch an
individuality--give myself lots of free play."

"Then you've come to the wrong shop," James informed him dryly.
"If you want to succeed at college you've got to do the things the
other fellows do and you've got to do them the same way."