Episode Transcript
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Four of the life of Benjamin Button. Between his twelfth and twenty first year,
I intend to say little suffice torecord that they were years of normal
ungrowth. When Benjamin was eighteen,he was erect as a man of fifty.
He had more hair, and itwas of a dark gray. His
step was firm, his voice hadlost its cracked quaver and descended to a
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healthy baritone. So his father senthim up to Connecticut to take examinations for
entrance to Yale College. Benjamin passedhis examination and became a member of the
freshman class. On the third dayfollowing his matriculation, he received a notification
from mister Hart, the college registrar, to call at his office and arrange
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his schedule. Benjamin, glancing inthe mirror, decided that his hair needed
a new application of its brown dye, But an anxious inspection of his bureau
drawer disclosed that the dye bottle wasnot there. Then he remembered he had
emptied it the day before and thrownit away. He was in a dilemma.
He was due at the registrar's infive minutes. There seemed to be
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no help for it. He mustgo as he was. He did.
Good morning, said the registrar politely. You've come to inquire about your son.
Why, as a matter of fact, my name's Button, began Benjamin,
but mister Cart cut him off.I'm very glad to meet you,
mister Button. I'm expecting your sonhere any minute. That's me, burst
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out Benjamin. I'm a freshman.What I'm a freshman. Surely you're joking,
not at all. The registrar frownedand glanced at a card before him.
Why I have mister Benjamin Button's agedown here as eighteen. That's my
age, asserted Benjamin, flushing slightly. The registrar eyed him wearily. Now
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surely, mister Button, you don'texpect me to believe that, Benjamin smiled
wearily. I am eighteen, herepeated. The registrar pointed sternly to the
door. Get out, he said, Get out of college and get out
of town. You are a dangerouslunatic. I am eighteen. Mister Hart
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opened the door. The idea,he shouted, a man of your age
trying to enter here as a freshmaneighteen years old? Are you well?
I'll give you eighteen minutes to getout of town. Benjamin Button walked with
dignity from the room, and halfa dozen undergraduates who were waiting in the
hall followed him curiously with their eyes. When he had gone a little way,
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he turned around, faced the infuriatedregistrar, who was still standing in
the doorway, and repeated in afirm voice, I am eighteen years old,
to a rus of titters, whichwent up from the group of undergraduates.
Benjamin walked away, but he wasnot fated to escape so easily.
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On his melancholy walk to the railroadstation, he found that he was being
followed by a group, then bya swarm, and finally by a dense
mass of undergraduates. The word hadgone around that a lunatic had passed the
entrance examinations for Yale and attempted topalm himself off as a youth of eighteen.
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A fever of excitement permeated. Thecollege men ran hatless out of classes.
The football team abandoned its practice andjoined the mob. Professors, wives
with bonnets awry and bustles out ofposition, ran shouting after the procession,
from which proceeded a continual succession ofremarks aimed at the tender sensibilities of Benjamin
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Button, he must be the wanderingJew. He ought to go to prep
school at that age. Look atthe infant prodigy. He thought this was
the old man's home. Go upto Harvard. Benjamin increased his gait,
and soon he was running. Hewould show them he would go to Harvard,
and then they would regret these illconsidered taunts. Safely on board the
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train for Baltimore, he put hishead from the window. You regret this,
he shouted. Ha ha. Theundergraduates laughed, ha ha ha.
It was the biggest mistake that YaleCollege had ever made.