There was silence for a moment. Then Mr. Chase asked: “And you don’t think you want to go on with the Greek, eh? Suppose you found next Fall that you could go after all, my boy. You’d have hard work passing, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t believe there’s any hope of it, sir.”
“Still, the unexpected sometimes happens, doesn’t it? You wouldn’t want to lose your chance for the want of a little Greek, now, would you?”
“No, sir, but——”
“Then don’t you think we’d better go on with our Friday evenings, Will? I do. Even if you shouldn’t get to college, my boy, a working knowledge of Greek isn’t going to be a bad thing to have. Now suppose you drop in on Friday after supper?”
“Very well, sir, I guess I might as well. I—I haven’t studied much lately, though.”
“Better look it over a bit before Friday then. There, that’s done! Now we’ll light up and have a chat.”
“I didn’t know you collected stamps, Mr. Chase,” said Willard as the teacher closed the window and lighted the study lamp on the big table.
“Haven’t I ever shown you my books?” asked Mr. Chase. “Yes, I’m a ‘stamp fiend,’ Will. It’s not a bad hobby. Expensive, though. I couldn’t afford it if I was married. I suppose,” he added ruefully, “I oughtn’t to afford it now.”