r was rumpled, he wore an old
house coat with a hole in the elbow, and with one finger he kept his
place in the book which he held in his hand.

"Hugh Paret!" he exclaimed.

He ushered me into a little parlour lighted by two lamps, that bore every
evidence of having been recently vacated. Its features somehow bespoke a
struggle for existence; as though its occupants had worried much and
loved much. It was a room best described by the word "home"--home made
more precious by a certain precariousness. Toys and school-books strewed
the floor, a sewing-bag and apron lay across the sofa, and in one corner
was a roll-topped desk of varnished oak. The seats of the chairs were
comfortably depressed.

So this was where Mr. Wood lived! Mr. Wood, instructor in Latin and Greek
at Densmore Academy. It was now borne in on me for the first time that he
did live and have his ties like any other human being, instead of just
appearing magically from nowhere on a platform in a chalky room at nine
every morning, to vanish again in the afternoon. I had formerly stood in
awe of his presence. But now I was suddenly possessed by an
embarrassment, and (shall I say it?) by a commiseration bordering on
contempt for a man who would consent to live thus for the sake of being a
schoolteacher. How strange that civilization should set such a high value
on education and treat its functionaries with such neglect!

Mr. Wood's surprise at seeing me was genuine. For I had never shown a
particular interest in him, nor in the knowledge which he strove to
impart.

"I thought you had forgotten me, Hugh," he said, and added whimsically:
"most boys do, when they graduate."

I felt the reproach, which made it the more difficult for me to state my
errand.

"I knew you sometimes took pupils in the evening, Mr. Wood."

"Pupils,--yes," he replied, still eyeing me. Suddenly his eyes twinkled.
He had indeed no reason to suspect me of thirsting for learning. "But I
was under the impression that you had gone into business, Hugh."

"The fact is, sir," I explained somewhat painfully, "that I am not
satisfied with business. I feel--as if I ought to know more. And I came
to see if you would give me lessons about three nights a week, because I
want to take the Harvard examinations next summer."

Thus I made it appear, and so persuaded myself, that my ambition had been
prompted by a craving for knowledge. As soon as he could recover himself
he reminded me that he ha