studying to qualify that I first ran into philosophy. I was a lad
to enjoy quick, pithy, epigrammatic statements. I have always
favoured a man who hits from the shoulder. Professor Holcomb was a
man of terse, heavy thinking; he spoke what he thought and he did
not quibble. He favoured no one.

I must confess that the old white-haired professor left his stamp
upon me. I loved him like all the rest; though I was not above
playing a trick on the old fellow occasionally. Still he had a wit
of his own and seldom came out second best, and when he lost out
he could laugh like the next one. I was deeply impressed by him.
As I took course after course under him I was convinced that for
all of his dry philosophy the old fellow had a trick up his
sleeve; he had a way of expounding that was rather startling;
likewise, he had a scarcely concealed contempt for some of the
demigods of our old philosophy.

What this trick was I could never uncover. I hung on and dug into
great tomes of wisdom. I became interested and gradually took up
with his speculation; for all my love of action I found that I had
a strong subcurrent for the philosophical.

Now I roomed with Hobart. When I would come home with some dry
tome and would lose myself in it by the hour he could not
understand it. I was preparing for the law. He could see no
advantage to be derived from this digging into speculation. He was
practical and unless he could drive a nail into a thing or at
least dig into its chemical elements it was hard to get him
interested.