Part of his small salary went to
the family of a brother; part disappeared each year in the buying
of books--at once his need and his passion; there were the expenses
of living; and Miss Anna always exacted appropriations.

"I know we have not much, but then my little boys and girls have
nothing; and the poor must help the poorer."

"Very well," he would reply, "but some day you will be a beggar
yourself, Anna."

"Oh, well then, if I am, I do not doubt that I shall be a thrifty
old mendicant. And I'll beg for _you_! So don't you be uneasy;
and give me what I want."

She always looked like a middle-aged Madonna in the garb of a
housekeeper. Indeed, he was wont to call her the Madonna of the
Dishes; but at these times, and in truth for all deeper ways, he
thought of her as the Madonna of the Motherless. Nevertheless he
was resolute that out of this many-portioned salary something must
yet be saved.

"The time will come," he threatened, "when some younger man will
want my professorship--and will deserve it. I shall either be put
out or I shall go out; and then--decrepitude, uselessness, penury,
unless something has been hoarded. So, Anna, out of the frail
uncertain little basketful of the apples of life which the college
authorities present to me once a year, we must save a few for what
may prove a long hard winter."

Professor Hardage was a man somewhat past fifty, of ordinary
stature and heavy figure, topped with an immense head. His was not
what we call rather vaguely the American face. In Germany had he
been seen issuing from the lecture rooms of a university, he would
have been thought at home and his general status had been assumed:
there being that about him which bespoke the scholar, one of those
quiet self-effacing minds that have long since passed with entire
humility into the service of vast themes. In social life the
character of a noble master will in time stamp itself upon the look
and manners of a domestic; and in time the student acquires the
lofty hall-mark of what he serves.

It was this perhaps that immediately distinguished him and set him
apart in every company. The appreciative observer said at once:
"Here is a man who may not himself be great; but he is at least
great enough to understand greatness; he is used to greatness."

As so often is the case with the strong American, he was
self-made--that glory of our boasting. But we sometimes forget
that an early life of hardship, wh