Dr. Josclyn. He stopped for a word of greeting, during which I betrayed
the fact that I had never studied United States history. Dr. Josclyn at
once invited me into his office with, I am quite sure, the purpose of
explaining as kindly as he could that my preparation for college was
insufficient. As an opening to the subject he began to talk of history,
and we talked and talked on, while unheeded hours were born and died.
We discussed the history of the United States, the governments of the
world, the causes which led to the influence of one nation on another,
the philosophical basis of the different national movements westward,
and the like. It was the longest and by far the most interesting talk I
have ever had with a highly educated man, and during it I could actually
feel my brain expand. When I rose to go President Josclyn stopped me.

"I have something to give you," he said, and he wrote a few words on
a slip of paper and handed the slip to me. When, on reaching the
dormitory, I opened it, I found that the president had passed me in the
history of the entire college course! This, moreover, was not the only
pleasant result of our interview, for within a few weeks President and
Mrs. Josclyn, whose daughter had recently died, invited me to board with
them, and I made my home with them during my first year at Albion.

My triumph in history was followed by the swift and chastening discovery
that I was behind my associates in several other branches. Owing to my
father's early help, I was well up in mathematics, but I had much to
learn of philosophy and the languages, and to these I devoted many
midnight candles.

Naturally, I soon plunged into speaking, and my first public speech at
college was a defense of Xantippe. I have always felt that the poor lady
was greatly abused, and that Socrates deserved all he received from her,
and more. I was glad to put myself on record as her champion, and my
fellow-students must soon have felt that my admiration for Xantippe was
based on similarities of temperament, for within a few months I was
leading the first college revolt against the authority of the men
students.

Albion was a coeducational institution, and the brightest jewels in
its crown were its three literary societies--the first composed of
men alone, the second of women alone, and the third of men and women
together. Each of the societies made friendly advances to new students,
and for some time I hesitated on the brin