HERBERT BECOMES A PROFESSOR
When Herbert reached the hotel he went up at once to Mr. Cameron's room.
“I believe I am a little late,” he said, apologetically; “but I was
detained at home by a matter of business.”
“You are young to have your time occupied by matters of business,” said
the young man, smiling.
“Yes, if my father were alive it would not devolve upon me, but my
mother generally consults with me.”
“I hope your business was arranged satisfactorily.”
“Yes, but it came near turning out otherwise. I would like to tell you
about it.”
“Do so,” said Mr. Cameron, kindly. “I shall be interested in whatever
affects you.”
Herbert gave an account of Squire Leech's attempts to get possession of
their cottage.
“But for that letter of Aunt Nancy's,” he concluded, “we should have
been obliged to part with our house.”
“For the paltry sum of twenty-two dollars and a half?”
“It wasn't paltry to us.”
“No, to be sure. Why didn't you tell me this morning? I would have lent
you the money.”
“You would?” exclaimed Herbert.
“With pleasure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” said our hero; “but I shouldn't have dared to
ask such a favor of a stranger.”
“I must tell you that this Squire Leech has probably taken advantage of
your ignorance of business. I don't know exactly how the law is in this
State, but I presume that, so far from the squire being authorized to
take immediate possession of your place, he would be obliged to give
legal notice of sale, on foreclosure of mortgage, by advertisement in
some weekly paper. This would allow of sale at auction to the highest
bidder.”
“I didn't know that; I supposed the squire could order us out
immediately and take possession.”
“Squire Leech certainly knew better than that, but he evidently wanted
to frighten your mother into selling to him at a sacrifice.”
“That was mean,” said Herbert, indignantly, “and he a rich man, too.”
“I quite agree with you,” said Mr. Cameron. “If you have any further
difficulty with this grasping capitalist, come to me and I will give you
the best advice I can.”
“I will, Mr. Cameron, and thank you for your advice. You have relieved
my mind. I will tell mother what you say. What would you like to have me
read first?”
“We will put off the reading for a short time. I want to ask you a few
more questions about yourself, not out of curiosity, but because I may,
if I understand your circumstances, some time have it in my power to
serve you.”
“Thank you, sir. I shall be very glad to tell you anything. I was afraid
you would not feel interested.”
“You are my private secretary now and that insures my interest. How long
since did your father die?”
“A little over a year.”
“What was his business?”
“When he was a young man he was employed in a manufactory near
Providence, but the confinement injured his health and he learned the
carpenter's trade.”
“I shouldn't think there would be much for a carpenter to do in a small
village like this.”
“My father managed to make a comfortable living but that was all. At the
time he died, he considered that our house was mortgaged for only half
its value, but Squire Leech thinks otherwise.”
“Squire Leech wants to get possession of your place. So that was all
your father was able to leave you?”
“No, not quite all; there was something else which father seemed to
think was worth something, but I am afraid it will never do us any
good.”
“What is that?” asked Mr. Cameron.
“He was at work in his leisure for the last two years of his life on an
invention.”
“An invention! Of what nature?”
“You know I told you he was employed in a cotton manufactory when a
young man. This made him familiar with spinning and weaving. He thought
he could make an improvement in some of the machinery used and he worked
out his idea in a wooden model.”
“Have you the model?” asked Cameron, with interest.
“Yes, sir, and also a written paper describing the invention. A few
days before he died father called me to his bedside and told me that he
wanted me some day to show his invention to a manufacturer and get his
opinion of it. He said that he hoped some time it would be a source of
profit to mother and myself.”
“Have you ever done as he advised?” asked Cameron.
“I have never had opportunity. There is no manufacturing town near here
and I cannot afford to travel.”
“I am myself the son of a cotton manufacturer,” said Cameron, “and,
though I have never been employed in the business, I have from my
boyhood been accustomed to visit my father's factory. My opinion may be
worth something, therefore. If you are willing to show me your father's
model--”
“I shall be very much obliged to you if you will look at it,” said
Herbert. “I have been afraid that father exaggerated its value and that
it might have defects which would prevent its being adopted anywhere.”
“I will give you my opinion when I have seen it. And now suppose we set
to work. Here is a treatise on logic. You may begin and read it very
slowly, pausing at the end of every paragraph till I tell you to go on.”
Herbert began to read as he had been requested. For the first two or
three times he took very little interest in his subject and thought
it very dry. In fact, it was not all he began to re-read the earlier
portions that he could comprehend much of it.
“Now,” said Cameron, after he had read half an hour, “I have something
else for you to do. You are not only my reader, but I must make you my
teacher, too.”
Herbert laughed, saying: “I think you'll have to get somebody that knows
more than I, then; I wouldn't venture to teach a college student.”
“I mean that you shall hear my lessons. I want you to imagine yourself a
college professor and ask me questions on what you have just read.”
“Do you think I can?”
“You may bungle a little at first, but you'll improve. If you do well,
when I get through with you I will try to get you a professor's chair at
some college.”
“I should like that, if professors get well paid.”
“They generally get more than five dollars a week; but that is all that
I can afford to pay at present.”
“I'm only an apprentice,” said Herbert smiling, “and am quite
satisfied.”
Herbert began to question Cameron on what he had been reading. He
did not find it altogether easy, partly from want of practice, partly
because the subject was one he knew nothing about. But whenever blunders
were made Cameron laughed good-naturedly and the young professor joined
in the merriment.
“We'll take political economy next,” said the student. “You won't find
that so dry as logic.”
Though political economy is generally studied in the junior or senior
year at college, its principles, if familiarly illustrated, are not
beyond the comprehension of a boy of fifteen. He found himself reading
with interest, and when he came to act the role of professor he
acquitted himself more creditably than with logic.
“I think,” said Cameron, “I shall recommend you for the chair of
political economy.”
“I like it much better,” said Herbert.
“So do I. Still, logic is important in its way. Tomorrow I must try you
on Latin.”
“I am afraid it won't be much use,” said our hero. “I have studied it a
little two winters when we had a college student keeping our winter
school.”
“If you know as much as that you will answer my purpose better than
I anticipated. Now we'll take a walk. You shall show me the houses of
Wrayburn.”
“The houses of Wrayburn are four in number,” said Herbert; “the two
churches, the town hall, and Squire Leech's house.”
“There's another walk which I prefer; I mean to Prospect Pond. Suppose
we walk over to it.”
“I shall be glad to,” said Herbert.
“You are a very accommodating professor. You let me off from study when
I feel lazy.”