“Ah, that’s the way they manage, is it? Not much chance for foul play there, I should say. Then it seems you couldn’t answer the questions.”
“No, sir,—not all of them.”
“Well, whose fault was that?”
“Mine, I suppose;” and the tears started fresh from Whistler’s eyes.
“I don’t know about that; perhaps no one was to blame for this failure. I have had some doubts, all along, about your success; but I thought it best not to trouble you with them, as I supposed you studied as hard as you ought to. Was I right in my supposition?”
“I believe I’ve done the best I could,” replied Whistler.
“If you can say that with a good conscience,” continued his father, “then I’m sure I shan’t blame you, and you ought not to blame yourself; and I think you can say it, for it agrees with what your teacher told me. Come, cheer up! and don’t think any more about it. It will all come out right, by-and-by. You’ll be admitted next year, and you’ll be able to keep up with your class better than though you entered now.”
These words of encouragement somewhat revived Whistler’s feelings, and as nothing more was said in his presence about the matter, by his parents, the tide of disappointment and mortification soon began to subside. His sensitive mind, however, was not wholly relieved, and, intimate as he shortly after became with Clinton, he could not impart to his cousin this unhappy secret. Immediately on his return from his vacation, in accordance with a plan he had formed, he asked his father’s permission to enter a private school, instead of returning to the old one; but the reasons he gave were not deemed satisfactory, and the request was not granted. He accordingly reëntered the public school, and, to his great relief, none of his mates laughed at him for coming back, or even alluded to his unsuccessful attempt to get into more select, if not better company. But he was very glad when the first day of the term was over.
Whistler was a diligent scholar; but, although by no means a dull boy, he did not learn his lessons without much hard labor. Some branches he acquired more easily than others. He had a taste for drawing, and copied maps and even pictures very neatly. He was also a good reader, and in declamation and composition he stood among the best in his class. But in some other branches, particularly spelling and arithmetic, he was rather backward. Nevertheless, he was an industrious scholar, and made fair progress in his studies.
But Whistler was not destined to get through the first day of the new term without some unpleasant experiences. It so happened that in his first recitation, which took place in the afternoon, he “missed” two questions that were put to him. He felt vexed and mortified, and, at his second failure, he could not keep the tears from coming into his eyes. The teacher, as he recorded the demerits, noticed his pupil’s emotion, but made no remark. He afterwards requested Whistler to step to his desk, when school was dismissed.