“I’m not immune to reason.”
“You’d like to have me put it in words?”
“Yes, if you wish.”
“Well, then, first of all, I’ve spent ten years working up to where I am now. I’ve been through the mill from laboratory handy-man to assistant demonstrator, from that to demonstrator, up again to quiz-master, to substitute-lecturer, until now I’m at the head of my department. That looks small to you, I know; but to me it means a lot. Two hundred men, bright fellows too, fill up the amphitheatre every day and listen to me for an hour. They respect me, have confidence in my ability—and I try to merit it. That means I must study and keep up with the procession in my line. It’s an incentive that a man 18 can’t have any other way, a practical necessity. That’s the first reason. On the other hand, if I went to work for Graham I’d be dubbing around in a back room laboratory all by myself and doing what he wanted done whether it was interesting in the least or not.”
“In other words,” commented Roberts, “you’d be down to bed rock with the two hundred admirers removed from the bed.”
“I suppose so—looking at it that way.”
“All right. Go on.”
“The second reason is that my employment as full professor gives me an established position—call it social position if you wish—here in the University that I couldn’t possibly get in any other way. They realize what it means to hold the place, and give me credit for it. We’re all human and it’s pleasant to be appreciated. If I went to work in a factory I’d be an alien—outside the circle—and I’d stay there.”
“There are eighty million people in the United States,” commented Roberts, drily. “By stretching, your circle would probably take in two thousand of that number.”
“I know it’s limited; but there’s an old saying that it’s better to be a big toad in a small puddle than a small toad in a large pond.” 19