THE NEW PROFESSOR.
Fred Vivian had not been informed of the plan which his father had in
view for him. Mr. Vivian, however, felt confident that it would be
agreeable to his son, and did not wish to speak of it until he had
ascertained Gilbert’s willingness.
At dinner, after the interview described in the last chapter, Mr. Vivian
for the first time mentioned the matter.
“What lessons have you to-night, Fred?” he asked.
“I have my Latin, and some hard sums in Reduction.”
“How are you getting on in Latin?”
“I wish you would let me give it up, father,” said Fred, earnestly. “I
believe it was only got up to trouble school-boys.”
“I suppose,” said his father, smiling, “you think Cæsar, Virgil, and
Cicero only wrote with the same purpose.”
“Confound them! Why couldn’t they write in English?” said Fred,
petulantly.
All at the table laughed, and finally Fred himself joined in.
“I suspect the Roman boys would have found as much trouble with English
as you find with Latin,” said Mr. Vivian. “As a fact, there was no such
language in existence then as our modern English tongue.”
“I wish Latin were as easy as English,” said Fred.
“No doubt it is. Foreigners find our language very difficult.”
“Difficult! I don’t see what there is difficult about it.”
“Because it is your native language. Roman boys would have been equally
surprised at any one finding Latin difficult.”
“I wish I was a Roman boy, then. Laura, will you help me about my sums?”
“I have got my own lessons to prepare, Fred.”
“Will you help me, father?”
“I like to have my evenings to myself, Fred. However, don’t look
disappointed. You shall have help.”
“Who will help me? Laura says she can’t.”
“I have engaged a professor to come here every evening, and assist you
about your lessons.”
“A professor!” exclaimed Fred, uneasily. “That will be as bad as being
at an evening school. I would rather get along by myself.”
“Just now you wanted help,” said his father.
“I don’t want a professor. He will make me work too hard.”
“I think you will like him,” said Mr. Vivian.
“When is he coming?”
“This evening. He will be here about eight o’clock.”
“Isn’t this a new plan?” asked Mrs. Vivian.
“Don’t you approve of it, my dear?” asked her husband.
“I thought his presence might be a restraint upon us, unless, indeed,
Fred goes upstairs with him.”
“No, let me stay here,” urged Fred. “I don’t want to go off with that
old man.”
“How do you know he is an old man?” inquired his father, smiling.
“I suppose he is.”
“He can’t be considered so. In fact, he is rather young.”
“It’s all the same,” said Fred, discontentedly. “I suppose he is as
stiff as a poker.”
“He did not impress me so. With his help you will get through your
lessons quickly; and then you can have the rest of the evening to
yourself.”
“What is his name?” asked Laura.
“I will see if I can find his card,” said Mr. Vivian, pretending to
search his pockets in vain. “Never mind, I will ask him when he comes.”
“You did not tell me you thought of making this arrangement for Fred,”
said Mrs. Vivian.
“I see,” said her husband, smiling, “that you are a little in doubt as
to its expediency. If at the end of a week it appears unsatisfactory I
will dismiss the professor.”
Fred was relieved by this promise. He had already formed in his own mind
an image of the expected teacher,—a tall, thin man, in a rusty-black
suit, wearing a pair of iron-bowed spectacles. He had seen the tutor of
a schoolmate of his who answered this description, and hastily adopted
the conclusion that most visiting tutors were like him.
At ten minutes of eight Gilbert Greyson was announced.
“O Gilbert, I’m so glad to see you,” said Fred; “though I’m afraid I
can’t be with you much this evening.”
“Why not?” asked Gilbert.
“Father has engaged a professor to assist me in my studies; when you
came in I thought at first it was he.”
Gilbert read the joke in Mr. Vivian’s smiling face, and determined to
keep it up.
“What sort of a teacher is he?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I suppose he’s an old fogy in spectacles.”
“Don’t you think you shall like him?”
“Father says if I don’t he’ll send him off at the end of the week.”
Again Gilbert smiled, and Mr. Vivian laughed outright.
“I don’t see what you two are laughing about,” said Fred.
“It’s a good joke, Gilbert, isn’t it?” said the merchant.
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t see any joke,” said Fred.
“Nor I,” said Laura.
“Perhaps the professor may be willing to help you, if you require it,
Laura,” suggested her father.
“If he is such a man as Fred expects,” said Laura, “I would rather get
along by myself.”
“It is hardly fair to take a prejudice against a person before you see
him, Laura.”
“I won’t.”
“For my own part, I was favorably impressed by what I saw of him.”
“What does he look like? Is he tall?”
“No.”
“Is he old?”
“No; quite young.”
“Has he whiskers?”
“I didn’t see any.”
“Is he good-looking?”
“That is rather a delicate question, eh, Gilbert?”
“Yes, sir. I will answer it for you. He is not.”
“What—do you know him, Gilbert?” asked Fred.
“He ought to,” said Mr. Vivian. “He has seen him in his looking-glass
every morning for sixteen years. There, the secret is out Fred, let me
formally introduce you to Professor Gilbert,—the teacher I have engaged
for you.”
“Are you really to be my teacher, Gilbert?” asked Fred, delighted.
“If you conclude to keep me,” said our hero, “you may decide to send me
adrift at the end of the week.”
[Illustration: GILBERT IN A NEW ROLE.]
“I said that when I thought it was somebody else,” said Fred. “Do you
think you can show me how to do sums in Reduction?”
“I think I can,” said Gilbert, smiling.
“I will get you to help me in Interest, Gilbert,” said Laura.
“I thought you didn’t want any help from your brother’s teacher,” said
Mr. Vivian.
“I didn’t know who it was to be then, papa. I’m glad you have engaged
Gilbert.”
“There is one more objection to you, Gilbert,” said Mr. Vivian,
seriously; “my wife thinks your presence may be a restraint upon us. She
thinks you had better retire with Fred to some other part of the house.”
“You have got the joke upon me too,” said Mrs. Vivian. “I, too, was
quite in the dark as to whom you had engaged. We don’t look upon Gilbert
in the light of a stranger, but rather as one of the family.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Vivian,” said our hero, gratefully.
“Then it appears, Gilbert, that you will be allowed to practise your
vocation here. I would suggest that a pair of spectacles would make your
appearance more impressive and dignified.”
“I like you best as you are, Gilbert,” said Fred, putting his arm around
the neck of his new tutor.
“And I too,” said Laura.
“Then I won’t go to the expense of spectacles,” said Gilbert. “Shall we
begin now, Fred?”
Fred brought his arithmetic and slate, and Gilbert explained the sums in
a familiar manner, making Fred do them himself.
“I understand them first-rate now,” said Fred, in a tone of
satisfaction. “You’re a bully teacher, Gilbert.”
“Now, shall we take the Latin?” asked Gilbert. “I’ll try to be a _bully_
teacher in that also.”
By nine o’clock Fred’s task was completed, and Gilbert transferred his
attention to Laura. Fifteen minutes were all she required. The evening
work being over, Gilbert played at games with his two pupils till ten,
then rose to go.
“I’m so glad you’re my teacher,” said Fred. “Be sure to come to-morrow
night.”
“I am afraid you will get tired of me after a while, and want to
discharge me,” said Gilbert, smiling.
“Will you promise to stay with us till you are discharged?”
“Yes, Fred.”
“Then it’s all right,” said Fred, in a tone of satisfaction.
Mr. Vivian found that he had done a very popular thing in engaging
Gilbert, and was, in consequence, pleased himself.
“Well, Gilbert,” said his room-mate, on his return, “how did your first
lesson come off?”
“With flattering success. I never earned money more pleasantly in my
life. My old teacher would stare if he should learn that I had set
myself up as a classical professor.”
“Your fortune has changed wonderfully. From a newsboy to professor is
rather a startling transformation.”
“My career as a newsboy is ended. I abandon the field to my competitors,
and devote myself to the dissemination of learning.”
“Alphonso Jones thinks you are a very remarkable young man. He told me
so to-night.”
“I can return the compliment,” said Gilbert, laughing. “If you can
change a ten-dollar bill, Mr. Ingalls, I will pay you the six dollars
advanced for my board.”
“You needn’t be in a hurry, Gilbert.”
“I don’t like to be in debt. I can sleep better when I have paid up the
loan.”
“I shall be glad to lend you again if you need it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ingalls; but I hope I shan’t need it.”
Early the next morning Mr. Sands reached New York, having come through
by night from Washington.