accomplish more in an hour than others will in three."

"I do my best," said Will gloomily. He felt almost as if his father was
unfair with him and was disposed to question what he had said.

"Now, Will," said Mr. Phelps quietly, but in a tone of voice which his
boy clearly understood, "it would be an easy thing for me to smooth over
this matter and make light of it, but my love and interest in you are
too strong to permit me to think of that for a moment. I believe in you,
my boy, but there are some things in which I cannot aid you, some things
which you must learn and do for yourself. Last year you faced your
crisis as a man should, and I believe you will face this one too."

"It seems as if there was always something to be faced."

"There is. That's it, exactly. My boy, Splinter, as you call your
professor in Greek, is not limited to the faculty of Winthrop College.
In one form or another he presents himself all through your life. His
name is simply that of the perpetual problem."

"I don't see, then--" interrupted Will.

"No, you don't see; but it is just because I do, and I am your father,
that I am talking in this way. Why do you think I have sent you to
college? It isn't for the name of it, or for the fun you will get out of
it, or even for the friendships you will form here, though every one of
these things is good in itself. It is to have you so trained, or rather
for you so to train yourself, that when you go out from Winthrop you
will be able to meet the very problems of which I am speaking and master
them. They come to all, and the great difference in men is really in