clever, though I
don't think he shows that at once."

"He is clever enough; there's no doubt about that."

"And did you not think he was pleasant?"

"Yes; he was pleasant here. He is one of those men who get on best with
women. You'll make much more of him for awhile than I shall. He'll
gossip with you and sit idling with you for the hour together, if you'll
let him. There's nothing wrong about him, and he'd like nothing better
than that."

"You don't believe that he's idle by disposition? Think of all that he
has done already."

"That's just what is most against him. He might do very well with us if
he had not got that confounded fellowship; but having got that, he
thinks the hard work of life is pretty well over with him."

"I don't suppose he can be so foolish as that, Theodore."

"I know well what such men are, and I know the evil that is done
to them by the cramming they endure. They learn many names of
things--high-sounding names, and they come to understand a great deal
about words. It is a knowledge that requires no experience and very
little real thought. But it demands much memory; and when they have
loaded themselves in this way, they think that they are instructed in
all things. After all, what can they do that is of real use to mankind?
What can they create?"

"I suppose they are of use."

"I don't know it. A man will tell you, or pretend to tell you--for the
chances are ten to one that he is wrong--what sort of lingo was spoken
in some particular island or province six hundred years before Christ.
What good will that do any one, even if he were right? And then see the
effect upon the men themselves! At four-and-twenty a young fellow has
achieved some wonderful success, and calls himself by some outlandish
and conceited name--a double first, or something of the kind. Then he
thinks he has completed everything, and is too vain to learn anything
afterward. The truth is, that at twenty-four no man has done more than
acquire the rudiments of his education. The system is bad from beginning
to end. All that competition makes false and imperfect growth. Come,
I'll go to bed."

What would Harry have said if he had heard all this from the man who
dusted his boots with his handkerchief?

Chapter IX

Too Prudent By Half

Florence Burton thought herself the happiest girl in the world. There
nothing wanting perfection of her bliss. She could perceive, though she
never allowed her mind to dwe