"Where were you in the afternoon?" he asked.

"I went across on the ferry to Oakland," Joe answered, not caring to offer
his aching head and body in extenuation.

"That is what is called 'playing hooky,' is it not?"

"Yes, sir," Joe answered.

"The night before the examinations, instead of studying, you saw fit to
wander away and involve yourself in a disgraceful fight with hoodlums.
I did not say anything at the time. In my heart I think I might almost
have forgiven you that, if you had done well in your school-work."

Joe had nothing to say. He knew that there was his side to the story, but
he felt that his father did not understand, and that there was little use
of telling him.

"The trouble with you, Joe, is carelessness and lack of concentration.
What you need is what I have not given you, and that is rigid discipline.
I have been debating for some time upon the advisability of sending you
to some military school, where your tasks will be set for you, and what
you do every moment in the twenty-four hours will be determined for you--"

"Oh, father, you don't understand, you can't understand!" Joe broke forth
at last. "I try to study--I honestly try to study; but somehow--I don't
know how--I can't study. Perhaps I am a failure. Perhaps I am not made
for study. I want to go out into the world. I want to see life--to live.
I don't want any military academy; I 'd sooner go to sea--anywhere where
I can do something and be something."

Mr. Bronson looked at him kindly. "It is only through study that you can
hope to do something and be something in the world," he said.

Joe threw up his hand with a gesture of despair.

"I know how you feel about it," Mr. Bronson went on; "but you are only a
boy, very much like that young sparrow we were watching. If at home you
have not sufficient control over yourself to study, then away from home,
out in the world which you think is calling to you, you will likewise
not have sufficient control over yourself to do the work of that world.

"But I am willing, Joe, I am willing, after you have finished high school
and before you go into the university, to let you out into the world for
a time."

"Let me go now?" Joe asked impulsively.

"No; it is too early. You have n't your wings yet. You are too unformed,
and your ideals and standards are not yet thoroughly fixed."

"But I shall not be able to study," Joe threatened. "I know I shall not
be able to study."

Mr. Bronson cons