"Where will you take it up?"
"In Mannahatta."
"And then you will rise to the top of the tree!" said his brother half admiringly, half sadly.
"That I may catch a glimpse of you in the top of some other tree," said Winthrop.
"But this want of money is such a confounded drag!" said Rufus after a few minutes.
"Let it drag you up hill, then. A loaded arrow flies best against the wind."
"Winthrop, I wonder what you are made of!" said Rufus stopping short and looking at him and his books. "The toughest, the sturdiest —"
But Winthrop lifted up his face and gave his brother one of those smiles, which were somewhat as if the sturdy young ash to which he likened him had of a sudden put forth its flowers and made one forget its strength in its beauty. Rufus stopped, and smiled a little himself.
"My choice would be engineering," he said doubtfully.
"Stick to your choice," said Winthrop.