ter?'

'It's a great secret,' I said, 'I have never told it. I am in love.'

'Knew it,' he said, puffing at his pipe and smiling in a kindly way.
'Now let's put in the trouble.'

'She does not love me,' I answered.

'Glad of it,' he remarked. 'I've got a secret t, tell you.'

'What's that?' I enquired.

'Wouldn't tell anybody else for the world, my boy,' he said, 'it's
between you an' me.'

'Between you an' me,' I repeated.

'Well,' he said, you're a fool.'

'That's no secret,' I answered much embarrassed.

'Yes it is,' he insisted, 'you're smart enough an' ye can have most
anything in this world if ye take the right road. Ye've grown t' be a
great big strapping fellow but you're only--sixteen?'

'That's all,' I said mournfully.

'Ye're as big a fool to go falling in love as I'd be. Ye're too young
an' I'm too old. I say to you, wait. Ye've got to go t' college.'

'College!' I exclaimed, incredulously.

'Yes! an' thet's another secret,' said he. I tol' David Brower what I
thought o' your writing thet essay on bugs in pertickier--an' I tol' 'im
what people were sayin' o' your work in school.'

'What d' he say?' I asked.

'Said Hope had tol' him all about it--that she was as proud o' you as
she was uv her curls, an' I believe it. "Well," says I, "y' oughter sen'
that boy t' college." "Goin' to," says he. "He'll go t' the 'Cademy this
fall if he wants to. Then he can go t' college soon's he's ready." Threw
up my hat an' shouted I was that glad.'

As he spoke the old man's face kindled with enthusiasm. In me he had one
who understood him, who saw truth in his thought, music in his verse,
a noble simplicity in his soul. I took his hand in mine and thanked him
heartily. Then we rose and came away together.

'Remember,' he said, as we parted at the corner, 'there's a way laid
out fer you. In God's time it will lead to every good thing you desire.
Don't jump over the fence. Don't try t' pass any milestun 'fore ye've
come to it. Don't mope. Keep yer head cool with philosophy, yer feet
warm with travel an' don't worry bout yer heart. It won't turn t' stun
if ye do keep it awhile. Allwus hev enough of it about ye t' do business
with. Goodbye!'

Chapter 15

Gerald Brower, who was a baby when I came to live at Faraway, and was
now eleven, had caught a cold in seed time, and he had never quite
recovered. His coughing had begun to keep him awake, and one night it
brought alarm to the whole household. Eliz