WALTER SHERWOOD'S LETTER
“Here's a letter for you, Doctor Mack,” said the housekeeper, as
she entered the plain room used as a library and sitting-room by her
employer, Doctor Ezekiel Mack. “It's from Walter, I surmise.” This was a
favorite word with Miss Nancy Sprague, who, though a housekeeper, prided
herself on having been a schoolmistress in her earlier days.
“Indeed, Nancy. Let me see it. Walter is really getting attentive. His
last letter came to hand only two days since. He hasn't forgotten his
old guardian.”
“Oh, no, sir. He'll never do that. He has a predilection for his old
home. His heart is in the right place.”
“Just so. I wish I felt as sure about his head.”
Doctor Mack adjusted his spectacles, for he was rising sixty, and his
eyes required assistance, and opened the letter. As he read it his
forehead contracted, and he looked disturbed. A perusal of the letter
may help us to understand why. It ran as follows:
“DEAR GUARDIAN: You will be surprised at hearing from me so soon again,
but I am really forced to write. I find college life much more expensive
than I supposed it would be. A fellow is expected to join two or three
societies, and each costs money. I know you wouldn't have me appear
mean. Then the students have been asked to contribute to a fund for the
enlargement of the library, and almost every day there is a demand for
money for one object or another. As it is nearly the end of the term,
I calculate that with a check for an extra hundred dollars I can get
along. I am awfully sorry to ask for it, but it will come out of
the money father left me, and I am sure he would wish me to keep up
appearances, and not fall behind the rest of the boys.
“I stand fairly well in my studies, and I expect to be stroke oar of
the college boat club. Besides this, I have been elected catcher of the
college baseball club. I am thought to excel in athletic sports, and
really enjoy my college life very much. Please send me the check by
return of mail. Affectionately yours, WALTER.”
Doctor Mack laid the letter on the table, and slowly removed the glasses
from his nose.
“One hundred dollars!” he repeated. “That is the second extra check he
has written for, this term. Then his regular term bills will come due in
two weeks. He is spending more than three times as much as I did when in
college. Forty years have made a difference, no doubt, but not so great
a difference as that. I hope the boy isn't falling into extravagant
habits. I care for that more than for the money. His father left a good
fortune, of which fact he is unfortunately aware, but I don't mean that
it shall spoil him. Now, what shall I do. Shall I send him the check or
not?”
Doctor Mack leaned back in his chair, and thought busily. He felt
anxious about his ward, who had entered college early and was now only
seventeen. Walter Sherwood was a boy of excellent talent and popular
manners, but he was inclined to be self-indulgent and had a large
capacity for “enjoyment.” His guardian had fondly hoped that he would
lead the class in scholarship, but instead of this he was only doing
“fairly well” in his studies. To be sure, he excelled in athletic
sports, but, as Doctor Mack reflected, this was not generally considered
the chief aim in a college course, except by some of the students
themselves.
“I wish I knew just how Walter is making out,” thought the doctor. Then,
after a pause, he resumed, with a sudden inspiration: “Why shouldn't
I know? I'll go over to Euclid to-morrow with out giving Walter any
intimation of my visit, and see for myself.”
It may be stated here that Walter Sherwood was a member of the sophomore
class in Euclid College, situated in the town of the same name. If
the reader does not find Euclid in a list of American colleges, it is
because for special reasons I have thought it best to conceal the real
name of the college, not wishing to bring the Institution into possible
disrepute. There are some who might misjudge the college, because it
contained some students who made an unprofitable use of their time.
“Nancy,” said Doctor Mack at the supper-table, “you may pack a hand-bag
for me. I shall start on a journey to-morrow morning.”
“Where to, sir, if I may make so bold as to inquire?”
“I think of going to Euclid.”
“To see Master Walter?”
“Exactly.”
“You haven't heard any bad news, I hope?” said the housekeeper
anxiously.
“Oh, no.”
“Then he isn't sick?”
“Quite the contrary. He is quite strong and athletic, I should judge,
from his letter.”
“He will be glad to see you, sir.”
“Well, perhaps so. But you know, Nancy, young people don't miss their
parents and guardians as much as they are missed at home. They have
plenty of excitement and society at college.”
“Yes, sir, that's true, but I'm sure Master Walter won't forget his old
home. If you have room for some cookies I will put some into the bag.
Walter is fond of them.”
“No, I think you needn't do It, Nancy, He has a good boarding-house, and
no doubt he gets all the cakes he wants. By the way, I want to take the
boy by surprise, so don't write and let him know I'm coming.”
“No, sir, I won't.”
This was exactly what the housekeeper had intended to do, for she
presumed upon her long service in the family to write a few lines
occasionally to the boy whom she had known from the age of six.
“Of course I shall be pleased to give him any message from you.”
“Thank you, Doctor Mack. Tell him if he catches cold I can send him
some camomile. Camomile tea is excellent in such cases. My mother and
grandmother used it all their lives.”
“You seem to forget that I am a doctor, Nancy. Not that I object to
camomile tea--in its place--though I can truly say that I never hankered
after it.”
“How long will you be gone, doctor?”
“I can't say exactly. You see, Euclid is nearly two hundred miles off.
and I don't know whether I can make connections.”
“Oh, well, don't hurry! No doubt Walter will want to keep you with him
as long as possible.”
“I don't feel so sure of that,” thought the doctor shrewdly. “Boys are
not usually so fond of the society of their guardians, though I don't
doubt Walter has a sincere regard for me. He is a warm-hearted boy.”
Doctor Mack was no longer in active practice. Three years before he had
selected an assistant--a young Doctor Winthrop--in whom his patients
had come to feel confidence, so that when he wanted to go away for a few
days there was no serious objection. Unlike some elderly practitioners,
Doctor Mack did not feel in the least jealous of his young assistant,
but was very glad to note his popularity.
“If any one calls for me, Nancy,” he said, “say that I am away for a day
or two and they can't do better than go to Doctor Winthrop.”
“There are some that like you best, sir.”
“No doubt, no doubt! They're used to me, you know. There's a good deal
in that. Any that please can wait for me, but my advice to them is to go
to Doctor Winthrop.”
Nancy packed the doctor's hand-bag, putting in a change of linen, a comb
and brush, an extra pair of socks and a couple of handkerchiefs. Then,
seeing that there was plenty of room, she slipped in a small box of
cookies and a little camomile. The doctor discovered them soon after he
started on his journey, and with a smile tossed the camomile out of the
window, while he gave the cookies to a poor woman who was traveling with
a couple of small children in the same car as himself. So that Nancy
Sprague's thoughtfulness was not wholly lost, though the intended
recipient did not benefit by it.
Doctor Mack had to wait over at a junction for three hours, owing to
some irregularities of the trains, and did not reach Euclid till rather
a late hour in the afternoon. He went to the Euclid Hotel, and entered
his name,
E. MACK, Albany,
without adding M.D., and substituting Albany for the small village,
thirty miles away, where he made his home.
“Strategy, doctor, strategy!” he said to himself, “I have come to spy
out the land, and must not make myself too conspicuous. I am traveling,
as it were, incognito.”