“But Sherm, she’s so worried all the time about your father.”
“All the same, I bet your mother wouldn’t forget about Ernest if your father was ill. I am the only boy in the family and I know I could help, if they’d 349only trust me. It’s being left out that hurts, Chicken Little. But forget everything I’ve said. I didn’t mean to blab this way. I s’pose Mother’s right–I can’t even keep my own affairs to myself.” Sherm shut his lips together tightly.
Jane tactfully changed the subject.
“I suppose you’d have to know a lot to be an architect.”
“Yes, right smart–I’d need a college education, and then I’d like to go to Paris and study at the Beaux Arts.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s a school for architects and artists. I don’t know very much about it myself. The New York architect who designed the new court house at home told me I ought to go there, if I ever wanted to be a real honest to goodness architect. I had a talk with him one day. He said if I ever got ready to go, to write to him, and he would give me some letters to people in Paris.”
“My, wouldn’t that be grand to study in Paris? I most wish I was a boy–they can do such wonderful things.”
The neighborhood gatherings began early. By half-past seven, hitching posts and trees and fence were all in use for the teams. Frank was pleased.