machinery? Could I live a day without you?"

Leaning across the table Van affectionately rumpled up Bob's tidy
locks until every individual hair stood on end.

"If it weren't for me you'd be dropped back into the next class--that's
what would happen to you; and you deserve it, too."

Van was silent.

"I know it. I haven't put in an hour of solid work for a month, Bob
I ought to be ashamed, and I am." He paused. "But there's no use
jumping all over myself if I haven't," he resumed, shifting to a
more sprightly tone. "I've said I was going to take a spurt soon and
I mean it. I'll begin next week."

"Why not start to-day?"

There was a rap at the door.

"Why not?" echoed Van, moving toward the door with evident relief.
"Don't you see I can't? Somebody's always breaking in on my work.
Here's somebody this very minute."

He flung open the door.

"Mail. A parcels-post package for you, Bob. I'll bet it's eats. Your
mother's a corker at sending you things; I wish my mother sent me
something now and then."