bition had
been prompted by a craving for knowledge. As soon as he could recover
himself he reminded me that he had on many occasions declared I had a
brain.

"Your father must be very happy over this decision of yours," he said.

That was the point, I told him. It was to be a surprise for my father; I
was to take the examinations first, and inform him afterwards.

To my intense relief, Mr. Wood found the scheme wholly laudable, and
entered into it with zest. He produced examinations of preceding
years from a pigeonhole in his desk, and inside of half an hour the
arrangement was made, the price of the lessons settled. They were well
within my salary, which recently had been raised....

When I went down town, or collecting bills for Breck and Company, I took
a text-book along with me in the street-cars. Now at last I had behind
my studies a driving force. Algebra, Latin, Greek and history became
worth while, means to an end. I astonished Mr. Wood; and sometimes he
would tilt back his chair, take off his spectacles and pull his beard.

"Why in the name of all the sages," he would demand, "couldn't you have
done this well at school? You might have led your class, instead of
Ralph Hambleton."

I grew very fond of Mr. Wood, and even of his thin little wife, who
occasionally flitted into the room after we had finished. I fully
intended to keep up with them in after life, but I never did. I forgot
them completely....

My parents were not wholly easy in their minds concerning me; they were
bewildered by the new aspect I presented. For my lately acquired motive
was strong enough to compel me to restrict myself socially, and the
evenings I spent at home were given to study, usually in my own room.
Once I was caught with a Latin grammar: I was just "looking over it," I
said. My mother sighed. I knew what was in her mind; she had always
been secretly disappointed that I had not been sent to college. And
presently, when my father went out to attend a trustee's meeting, the
impulse to confide in her almost overcame me; I loved her with that
affection which goes out to those whom we feel understand us, but I was
learning to restrain my feelings. She looked at me wistfully.... I knew
that she would insist on telling my father, and thus possibly frustrate
my plans. That I was not discovered was due to a certain quixotic twist
in my father's character. I was working now, and though not actually
earning my own living, he no longer