“Let’s try the Owl Grill. This guy I played pool with says it’s swell.”
“Where is it?”
“A block this side of the station, on Maple Street. Want to start along pretty soon? I’m starved.”
“I’m ready now,” responded Ira, marking his place and closing his book. “Done any studying yet?”
“Me? No, I’ll take a fall out of it tonight. It looks like a cinch. The Algebra’s review stuff. I’ve had it already. And the Latin’s easy, too. Guess German’s the only thing I’ll mind much. How about you?”
“Looks stiff,” acknowledged Ira. “I didn’t expect to have to take French until next year. Languages were always hard for me. I’ve elected Greek instead of German. I don’t see why a fellow needs much German, do you?”
“I don’t see why he needs any. Or French, either, for that matter. Latin’s enough, I think.”
“Really? But French is different from German. I mean, it’s a sort of universal language——”
“Sure. I know. But why not learn it in college? That’s time enough. My idea is that they try to teach you too blamed much at these big prep schools.”
“A good many fellows don’t go to college,” said Ira. “I’m not certain that I shall.”