“Why not? Because I don’t choose to.”
“My father would, if he was here.”
“Well, he isn’t here, and I’m in charge of you, and the money your parents left for your care and support while they are away. I most certainly shall not give you a dollar to waste on any such foolishness as what you term a ‘show’ by which I apprehend that you mean a performance of some character.”
“It’s a vaudeville show,” went on Jack. “It’s real funny.”
“Funny!” ejaculated the professor with a snort. “Fun is a very poor substitute for knowledge, young man. If you have an evening to spare you should spend it on your books. You are very backward in your Latin and mathematics. When I was your age I used to devote my entire evening to working out problems in algebra or geometry.”
“Will you give me fifty cents?” asked Jack desperately, not wishing to let the professor get too deep into the matter of study.
“Fifty cents? What for?”
“Well, I can go to the show for that, but I wanted some to treat the boys with. They’ve bought sodas for me several times, now, and I want to pay them back.”
“Humph! That is all the rising generation thinks of! Having a good time, and eating! No, Jack, I shall not give you a dollar for any such purpose. And I will not give you fifty cents. Do you know that one dollar, put out at six per cent, will, if the interest be compounded, amount in one hundred years, to three hundred and forty dollars? Think of it! Three hundred and forty dollars!”
“But I don’t expect to live a hundred years, professor. Besides, it’s my money,” spoke Jack, with just the least bit of defiance in his tone.