The Girl and the Game and Other College Stories/Talks with a Kid Brother/On Hazing

So the Sophomores have been making it interesting for you, have they? I'm glad of it; that's one of the things you came to college for. You will agree with me after you get out, if not sooner. What's that? Well, let me illustrate.
Once upon a time during the old days of free, untrammelled hazing—real hazing, I mean, not mere persiflage and pamphlets containing formal Freshman-year restrictions—there was a certain professor's son. And he thought his father was a greater man than the President—the President of the college, I mean, for the president of the country was a mere Philistine and did not count. The son should not be blamed for this, because the father would have been inclined to agree with him. I should add that not all professors take themselves so hard. There is a system of hazing that goes on with them, ​too, even to-day. When a young instructor comes back from Germany weighted down with the dignity of his Ph.D. and feeling sorry for the United States and its deplorable lack of real scholarship— But about this boy:
"They'd better not try to haze me," he remarked the day he matriculated. "My father is a professor."
It was hard to secure him because he lived at his father

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