“It is not at all impossible that you may find one or more who will be all that, my boy,” the captain responded, “but certainly none that can have the same affection for you, the same fatherly joy and pride in seeing your progress; it would not be natural for any other than your own parent.”
“No, sir; I know that; and of course I couldn’t feel the same toward any other teacher.”
“I shouldn’t want you to, Max,” laughed the captain; “I must acknowledge that I couldn’t be quite willing to have my son loving any other man with the same filial affection that he gives me.
“But to return to the subject in hand: you will have to resign many of the luxuries you enjoy at home. You will not be allowed a room to yourself; you must share it with another cadet, and with him take week about in keeping it in the most perfect order; sweeping, dusting, and arranging its contents every morning for inspection; every article will have a place, and must be found there when not in use.
“Your furniture will be severely plain; an iron bedstead, a wooden chair, a washstand, looking-glass, wardrobe, rug, and a table which you will share with your room-mate. You can have no curtains to your windows, no maps or pictures to adorn your walls.”
“I shouldn’t expect the government to provide such things,” remarked Max, “but can’t I take some from home?”
“No; it is not allowed.”
“That seems odd, papa. What harm could it do for a boy to have such things, if his father could afford to provide them?”
“It is because some of the lads may come from very poor families, and the government chooses—very wisely, I think—that all shall fare alike while students in that national college.”
“Yes, to be sure,” returned Max thoughtfully; “I think that’s just as it ought to be; and it will be a trifling hardship to have to do without such things while I’m there.”