“Oh! I didn’t mean that!” protested Phillip. “I—I was just quoting somebody.”
“All right; you needn’t apologize. Now, about last night. As I was saying, you can get drunk pretty often, if you want to, without being any worse than some other fellows in college who are well liked and respected. But it won’t do you a speck of good, Phil, not a speck. And life is such a short track at the most that I don’t believe a fellow has time to do negative things. The mere fact that a thing’s not going to harm you doesn’t make it worth doing; stick to the things that will produce some good, that will better you if only a little. After all, it isn’t especially necessary to get drunk. I don’t believe that a fellow who drinks more than is good for him is any manlier than the fellow who doesn’t. Besides, it’s an expensive habit, drinking.”
“It is,” agreed Phillip dolefully.
“Well?”
“Oh, I’ve quit, John; honestly! Last night was enough. I hate to see other fellows make beasts of themselves and I hate to think that I’ve gone and done it myself. I don’t mean that I’m going to become a total abstainer, for I don’t think that’s necessary, do you? We have always had wine on the table at home and—and I’ve never thought much about it. Down our way we ride hard and drink the same way. But I think you’re right about it, John, and—and I’m going to take mighty good care that it doesn’t happen again.”
“All right, Phil. By the way, have you heard from your folks lately?”
“Yes, I had a letter Friday.”
“All well, I hope?”
“Yes; except mamma. You know she’s right poorly all the time.”