is fond of, as long as she can get a good-for-naught like you,
or an old numskull like that Tippengray, to play her tricks on."

Now Lanigan Beam braced himself for action. This sort of thing would not
do; whatever she might say or think about the rest of the world, Calthea
must not look with disfavor on the Greek scholar.

"Numskull!" said he. "You're off the track there, Calthy, I never knew a
man with a better skull than Mr. Tippengray, and as to his being
old--there is a little gray in his hair to be sure, but it's my opinion
that that comes more from study than from years."

"Nonsense!" said Calthea; "I don't believe he cares a snap for study
unless he can do it with some girl. I expect he has been at that all his
life."

Now Lanigan's spirits rose; he saw that it was not on his account that
Calthea was jealous of Ida Mayberry. His face put on an expression of
serious interest, and he strove to speak impressively, but not so much
so as to excite suspicion.

"Calthea," said he, "I think you are not treating Mr. Tippengray with
your usual impartiality and fairness. From what I have seen of him, I am
sure that the great object of his life is to teach, and when he gets a
chance to do that he does it, and for the moment forgets everything
else. You may be right in thinking that he prefers to teach young
persons, and this is natural enough, for young people are much more
likely than older ones to want to learn. Now, to prove that he doesn't
care to teach young girls just because they are girls, I will tell you
that I saw him, this very afternoon, hard at work teaching Mrs. Cristie
and Ida Mayberry at the same time, and he looked twice as happy as when
he was instructing only one of them. If there were enough people here so
that he could make up a class, and could have a sort of summer school, I
expect he would be the happiest man on earth.

"I am afraid that is Mr. Tippengray's fault," continued Lanigan, folding
his hands in his lap and gazing reflectively at his outstretched legs.
"I am afraid that he gives too much of his mind to teaching, and
neglects other things. He is carried away by his love of teaching, and
when he finds one person, or a dozen persons who want to learn, he
neglects his best friends for that one person, or those dozen persons.
He oughtn't to do it; it isn't right--but then, after all, no man is
perfect, and I suppose the easiest way for us to get along is to stop
looking for perfection."