e longed for and
which he could neither bring himself to purchase nor give up; he was,
too, quite as unreconciled to doing his Alma Mater an injury as he had
been before. Round and round in a circle he went, the same old arguments
bringing him to the same old conclusions. There seemed to be no way
out.

While he was still pondering what he would do, an interesting visitor
arrived at the Cameron home. This was Mr. Percy Wright, a college
classmate of Paul's father and the owner of one of the largest paper
mills in the State. He was a man of magnetic personality and wide
business experience and Paul instantly conceived that warm admiration
for him which a younger boy will often feel for an older man.

A fund of amusing anecdotes rippled from Mr. Wright's tongue. It seemed
as if there was no subject on which he could not converse. He had an
entertaining story about almost every topic suggested and kept the
entire Cameron family laughing heartily through each meal. Paul watched
the stranger with fascinated eyes. How charming he was, how witty, how
clever! And yet Mr. Wright was not always jesting. On the contrary, he
could be very serious when his hobby of paper-making, with its many
interdependent industries, was mentioned.

He was, for example, in close touch with the publication of periodicals,
newspapers, and books, and he immediately hailed Paul as a colleague.

"So you are the editor-in-chief of a widely circulated monthly magazine,
are you, my boy?" he remarked. "Well, you certainly have an enviable
job. It is a pity you are not going to keep on with the work. Your
father tells me he thinks you have made a great success of it."

Paul colored uncomfortably.

"Not that I would have you throw over your college career," added Mr.
Wright quickly. "Not for a moment! But publishing work is so alluring! I
have always wanted to own a newspaper and I have not yet given up hope
of doing so before I die."

"My paper isn't anything wonderful," said Paul modestly.

"But it is a clean, good magazine of its sort. I have been looking over
several copies of it since I have been here. You have nothing to be
ashamed of. I call the _March Hare_ a mighty fine little publication.
It's a splendid starter and I'll be bound has given you some excellent
experience. Every paper has to have a beginning. All our big newspapers
began on a small scale. There is some difference between one of our
modern Sunday issues and the _Boston News-Le