"We think the time has arrived," he went on, passing over my remark as
though it hadn't been uttered, "for Jerry to have some instruction
from one versed in the theory, if not the practice, of business. It
is our purpose to engage a professor from a school of finance of one
of the universities to work with Jerry for a part of each summer."

I did not dare to speak for fear of saying something I might regret.
Thus far he was within his rights, I knew, but had he proposed to take
Jerry into the cafes of Broadway that night, he couldn't have done my
plans for the boy a greater hurt. He was proposing nothing less than
an assault upon my barriers of idealism. He was going to take the
sentient thing that was Jerry and make of him an adding machine. Would
he? Could he? I found courage in a smile.

"Of course, if that is your desire," I managed at last, "I have
nothing to say except that if you had asked my opinion I should have
advised against it."

"I'm sorry, Canby," he finished, "but the matter has already been
taken out of your hands."

Youth fortunately is the age of the most lasting impressions. Dr.
Carmichael, of the Hobart School of Finance of Manhattan University,
came and went, but he made no appreciable ripple in the placid surface
of Jerry's philosophy. He cast stone after stone into the lovely pool
of Jerry's thoughts, which broke the colorful reflections into smaller
images, but did not change them. And when he was gone the pool was as
before he came. Jerry listened politely as he did to all his masters
and learned like a parrot what was required of him, but made no secret
of his missing interest and enthusiasm. I watched furtively,