“I’m glad to hear you talk that way,” replied the boy. “It seems strange.”
The man laughed.
“Do you—” Quincy hesitated,—“Are you a—teacher?”
“My name is Deering.”
“Not Professor Lawrence Deering!” Quincy demanded. The other nodded.
So this was the famous Professor Deering. “Oh! And you teach that way yourself?”
“I try to. But it’s hard in an institution that doesn’t agree with you. Hard also, with products so nearly finished as—say—you are. I should have gone in for kindergartening.”
What an open candor this was, thought Quincy, from a great man to an unknown boy! From this moment of realization, he would have gone far and suffered much for Professor Deering. Then it occurred to him that since he knew the professor’s name, he must announce his own.
“My name is Burt—Quincy Burt,” he said.
The great man’s hand went out warmly. “I am glad to know you, Mr. Burt. I hope you will like your college years.”