“I know,” said Thyrsis, “and I appreciate that. You understand that it’s an important point for me to get clear. I’ve felt that all along about you—I’ve felt it about so many others who set themselves against me. And yet I have to bear the burden of their condemnation—”
“I never condemned you,” interposed the other.
“Ah, but you did!” cried Thyrsis. “You told me that I knew less about writing than anyone in your class! And you spoke as one who had authority.”
“But you had given no indications in the class-room—”
“I know! I know! I tried to get you to see the reason. I wanted to create literature; and you set me down with a lot of formulas—you told me to write about ‘The Duty of the College Man to Support Athletics!’”
“It’s difficult to see,” began Prof. Osborne, “how we could teach college boys to create literature—”
“At least,” said the other, “you need not follow a method which would make it impossible for one of them to create literature if he had it in him.”
“Does it seem to you as bad as that?” asked the professor, a little disturbed.
“It truly does,” said Thyrsis.
“But what would you say we could do?”