“Boland?” The Doctor seated himself in his revolving chair and referred to a book that lay open before him. “Ah, yes, from West Bayport; where they make the codfish for our Sunday morning breakfasts. Well, John, I’m glad to see you. I hope you left your—” another glance at the book—“your mother well?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She tells me in her letter that you want to go to college.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, that’s a commendable desire,” said the Doctor heartily. “I suppose you know all about sailing a boat, John?”
“I can sail a sloop, sir.”
“Then you have that advantage over me. Now I dare say that if you knew little or nothing about sailing and you were put in a sloop at, say, Boston Light and had to make your way to West Bayport you might be able to do it, but it would be difficult work, wouldn’t it?”
“I cal’late it would, sir.”
“You calculate it would,” said the Doctor with a twinkle behind his glasses. “Yes. Well, on the other hand, if you knew how to sail that boat you’d get home safely, easily and quickly. That’s what education does, my boy. It teaches you how to set your sail, how to point your craft, how to take advantage of all the varying winds, how to meet squalls and weather storms. Without education you may be able to travel Life’s sea, but it’s going to be hard and you’re going to be tossed about more than necessary. But with knowledge it’s a good deal easier. Knowledge is power, whether you’re sailing a sloop over Massachusetts Bay or breasting the waves of Life. See what I mean?”
“Yes, sir. You mean I ought to study hard and get an education.”