“I’ll try,” laughed Phillip. “It’s a way we have in the South, you know; we always say ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am.’ If I’d ever addressed father without the ‘sir’ I reckon he’d have worn me out.”
“I see. The objection I make to it,” answered John, “is that it makes me feel like a grandfather. Now if you know anything of Lowell’s, here’s your chance,” he added, as they halted at the old fence surrounding Elmwood. But Phillip refused to recite any more, and after viewing the tree-embowered house they turned their steps homeward, followed by Maid with hanging tongue. On the walk back the conversation turned on more practical matters. John advised Phillip as to a boarding-place and in other affairs which had puzzled the freshman.
“I think one ought to have an athletic interest of some kind,” said Phillip. “What would you advise?”
“How about football?” asked John, running his eye over the other’s wiry frame. But Phillip shook his head dolefully.
“I’ve tried that, but I’m no good. I went out for the freshman team and yesterday after practice they told me I was in Squad E, and Chester Baker says I might as well be in the river.”
“That’s not promising,” said John. “You’d better join one of the scrub teams and get used to the game that way. Then next year you’ll stand more of a chance. And if I were you I’d go over to the gym pretty regularly and use the chest weights; you look as though you’d stand rather more development in the upper part of the body than you’ve got. Have you ever tried running?”
Phillip shook his head.
“You might go in for that; any fellow that can show speed and staying power has a good chance to distinguish himself.”
“I think I’d like to row,” hazarded Phillip.
“You’ll have to develop your muscles a bit first. Join a class, Phil, and keep at it; it will do you a lot of good even if it doesn’t get you a place in a boat. But there’s no hurry about athletics; you’ve got four years ahead of you; you’ll find what you’re looking for after a bit.”