over his acorn-shaped
head, Alfred thought a farmer or stock breeder had called on his father.

When introduced by the father as "My son, Alfred, Professor Palmer,"
Alfred was taken off his feet and his idea of art dropped away down. The
only attraction of the professor was his eloquence, his ability to talk
entertainingly. This he did continuously with a pronunciation so correct
and studied that it sounded pedantic. The professor kept up his talk, as
affected at times as the hand-cuff king's stage announcements or those
of the middleman in a minstrel show.

After dinner the professor expressed a desire to take a walk with
Alfred. They walked far, the professor talked long, and became
annoyingly confidential. He said: "Your father has told me a great deal
about you and I must admit that you are a mighty smart young man. You
don't belong in this one-horse town, you should get out in the world
where there are opportunities waiting for all such as you. You could
live in this town a thousand years and you'd be just what you are now.
You have had some experience in the show line but in a line that is
beneath you; your place in the show business is higher up. I want your
advice," he continued insinuatingly. "Now, I offered John (he referred
to Alfred's father), the best thing of his life. He has worked hard all
of his days; he is deserving of something better. I have offered him a
half interest in my show. ("Holy Mother of Moses!" thought Alfred). I
have borrowed a little money from him but I need nine hundred dollars
more to put me out right. Now Jack is considering the matter. I wish
you, who know more about the show business than both of us put together,
(Alfred knew he was being flattered), would talk to him, use your
influence with him."

Notwithstanding Alfred's life's ambition to become a showman, the idea
as presented by the professor filled him with disgust. His father going
into the show business! He had pictured show life in his illusions as
one long, summer day's dream, but now it seemed the meanest of careers.
The idea of his father associating himself with such a calling was
repugnant in the extreme. Alfred could scarcely restrain his thoughts
from taking expression in wrathful words.

The man continued, not noticing Alfred's changed expression: "You could
sing and dance in this entertainment, do just what you pleased, it would
make it all the better. I'll deliver the lecture and your daddy, (he was
becoming