hoping George is getting along all
right with his courting.

"W. A. T.

"P.S.--Lucien is showing me how to box every chance we get."

William deliberately omitted from his letter a conversation with Miss
Whimple regarding Sally. He had made a special journey to see the lady
because he remembered hearing her say something about wonderful cures
at a certain hospital to the work of which she had given time and
money. She heard him through, touched by the depth of his feeling for
the sufferer, and promised to make inquiries of the surgical staff as
to what could be done.

"Don't be too hopeful, William," she said, kindly, "they cannot really
tell until they see the patient. But they've done almost everything
except furnish new spines; and goodness knows there are many people who
ought to have them if they could be made. There are too many jellyfish
men and women in the world to-day, William."

CHAPTER XXIII

Reformations are slow--except when they're sudden. Some
reformations--of individuals as well as nations--have followed upon
years of effort, toil, and suffering: others have been materially
accelerated by the use of the axe. William's acquaintance with the axe
was limited to its use as an instrument for occasional spells of
firewood-chopping: but at heart he was a reformer, and, unlike most
reformers--judging them, of course, by the doubtful value of
histories--he started upon himself. Tenacity was William's greatest
asset; when he adopted a line of action he "stayed with it," to use his
own expressive phraseology. Having found the place spoken of in the
letter to Sally, where he could take night lessons in history, reading,
and writing, William became an attentive and consistent attendant.
Tommy Watson and Whimple were fearful lest he should undertake too
much, finally tire of everything, and lapse into a drifter. Epstein
ridiculed their fears and scorned their arguments. "Leave the boy
alone," he said, "he knows what he wants, and he'll get it."

There were glorious nights when William longed for a trip on the Bay to
the Island, or an hour's loafing in the parks, but when the longing
took possession of him on lesson nights he fought it down with
firmness, and he usually won. He confided in Epstein occasionally, and
the wise old comedian let him talk as long as he wished about it,
offering no suggestions or advice. He never went beyond, "Well done,
boy," or "Stick to it," but to himself he