“Little sister is growing up,” thought Joe, as he turned away. “She’ll be a young lady soon—she’s growing up. Well, I guess we all are,” and our hero sighed as though he could scarcely bear the weight of responsibility on his own shoulders.
This was after supper, and as Joe left the room, and Clara hastened to her apartment, there to indulge in further “prinking,” as Joe called it, Mr. and Mrs. Matson looked at each other.
“What’s getting into Joe, I wonder?” spoke his father. “He’s acting rather strange of late.”
“Oh, I expect the responsibility of college life is making itself felt,” said Mrs. Matson. “But I’m proud that I have a son who is going to Yale. It is good you can afford it, John.”
“Yes, Ellen, I am too. Education is a great thing, and a college course does a lot for a young fellow. I never had the chance myself, but perhaps it’s just as well.”
“I am determined that Joe shall have all the advantages we can give him—and Clara, too,” went on the wife. “I think Joe should be very proud and happy. In a short time he will be attending one of the best colleges in the world.”
“Yet he doesn’t seem very happy,” said Mr. Matson, musingly.
“And I wonder why,” went on his wife. “Of course I know he wasn’t very keen about going, when I proposed it, but he gave in. I’m sure it’s baseball that made him want to stay on at Excelsior Hall.”
“Probably. Joe eats, sleeps and dreams baseball.”
“I do wish he would get that idea of being a professional baseball player out of his mind,” went on Mrs. Matson, and her tone was a trifle worried. “It is no career to choose for a young man.”