Much more silence. I lit another cigarette.
"Does he get enough to eat?"
"When he has time," I said. "He's generally pretty busy."
"Playing the mandolin, I suppose."
"Most of the time," said I. "He runs the college in his odd moments."
"He wouldn't have run the Siwash I went to," said Pa Rearick grimly.
"No," said I, "you egregious timber-head, he'd have spent his time limping after Homer." But as I said it only to myself, no one was insulted.
"Has he learned anything?" said old Hostilities, after some more silence.
"Took the Sophomore Greek prize this year," I said, blowing one of the most perfect smoke rings I had ever achieved.
"I don't believe it," said Pa Rearick deliberately.