CHAPTER VIII.
FLETCHER'S VIEWS ON SOCIAL POSITION.
"You are getting on finely, Harry," said Oscar Vincent, a fortnightlater. "You do credit to my teaching. As you have been over all theregular verbs now, I will give you a lesson in translating."
"I shall find that interesting," said Harry, with satisfaction.
"Here is a French Reader," said Oscar, taking one down from theshelves. "It has a dictionary at the end. I won't give you alesson. You may take as much as you have time for, and at the sametime three or four of the irregular verbs. You are going about threetimes as fast as I did when I commenced French."
"Perhaps I have a better teacher than you had," said Harry, smiling.
"I shouldn't wonder," said Oscar. "That explains it to mysatisfaction. Well, now the lesson is over, sit down and we'll havea chat. Oh, by the way, there's one thing I want to speak to youabout. We've got a debating society at our school. It is called'The Clionian Society.' Most of the students belong to it. Howwould you like to join?"
"I should like it very much. Do you think they would admit me?"
"I don't see why not. I'll propose you at the next meeting, Thursdayevening. Then the nomination will lie over a week, and be acted uponat the next meeting."
"I wish you would. I never belonged to a debating society, but Ishould like to learn to speak."
"It's nothing when you're used to it. It's only the first time youknow, that troubles you. By Jove! I remember how my knees trembledwhen I first got up and said Mr. President. I felt as if all eyeswere upon me, and I wanted to sink through the floor. Now I can getup and chatter with the best of them. I don't mean that I can makean eloquent speech or anything of that kind, but I can talk at aminute's notice on almost any subject."
"I wish I could."
"Oh, you can, after you've tried a few times. Well, then, it'ssettled. I'll propose you at the next meeting."
"How lucky I am to have fallen in with you, Oscar."
"I know what you mean. I'm your guide, philosopher, and friend, andall that sort of thing. I hope you'll have proper veneration for me.It's rather a new character for me. Would you believe it, Harry,--athome I am regarded as a rattle-brained chap, instead of the dignifiedProfessor that you know me to be. Isn't it a shame?"
"Great men are seldom appreciated at home, Oscar."
"I know that. I shall have to get a certificate from you, certifyingto my being a steady and erudite young man."
"I'll give it with the greatest pleasure."
"Holloa, there's a knock. Come in!" shouted Oscar.
The door opened, and Fitzgerald Fletcher entered the room.
"How are you, Fitz?" said Oscar. "Sit down and make yourselfcomfortable. You know my friend, Harry Walton, I believe?"
"I believe I had the honor to meet him here one evening," saidFitzgerald stiffly, slightly emphasizing the word "honor."
"I hope you are well, Mr. Fletcher," said Harry, more amused thandisturbed by the manner of the aristocratic visitor.
"Thank you, my health is good," said Fitzgerald with equal stiffness,and forthwith turned to Oscar, not deigning to devote any moreattention to Harry.
Our hero had intended to remain a short time longer, but, under thecircumstances, as Oscar's attention would be occupied by Fletcher,with whom he was not on intimate terms, he thought he might spend theevening more profitably at home in study.
"If you'll excuse me, Oscar," he said, rising, "I will leave you now,as I have something to do this evening."
"If you insist upon it, Harry, I will excuse you. Come round Fridayevening."
"Thank you."
"Do you have to work at the printing office in the evening?" Fletcherdeigned to inquire.
"No; I have some studying to do."
"Reading and spelling, I suppose," sneered Fletcher.
"I am studying French."
"Indeed!" returned Fletcher, rather surprised. "How can you study itwithout a teacher?"
"I have a teacher."
"Who is it?"
"Professor Vincent," said Harry, smiling.
"You didn't know that I had developed into a French Professor, didyou, Fitz? Well, it's so, and whether it's the superior teaching ornot, I can't say, but my scholar is getting on famously."
"It must be a great bore to teach," said Fletcher.
"Not at all. I like it."
"Every one to his taste," said Fitzgerald unpleasantly.
"Good-night, Oscar. Good-night, Mr. Fletcher," said Harry, and madehis exit.
"You're a strange fellow, Oscar," said Fletcher, after Harry'sdeparture.
"Very likely, but what particular strangeness do you refer to now?"
"No one but you would think of giving lessons to a printer's devil."
"I don't know about that."
"No one, I mean, that holds your position in society."
"I don't know that I hold any particular position in society."
"Your family live on Beacon Street, and move in the first circles. Iam sure my mother would be disgusted if I should demean myself so faras to give lessons to any vulgar apprentice."
"I don't propose to give lessons to any vulgar apprentice."
"You know whom I mean. This Walton is only a printer's devil."
"I don't know that that is any objection to him. It isn't morallywrong to be a printer's devil, is it?"
"What a queer fellow you are, Oscar. Of course I don't mean that. Idaresay he's well enough in his place, though he seems to be veryforward and presuming, but you know that he's not your equal."
"He is not my equal in knowledge, but I shouldn't be surprised if hewould be some time. You'd be astonished to see how fast he gets on."
"I daresay. But I mean in social position."
"It seems to me you can't think of anything but social position."
"Well, it's worth thinking about."
"No doubt, as far as it is deserved. But when it is founded onnothing but money, I wouldn't give much for it."
"Of course we all know that the higher classes are more refined--"
"Than printers' devils and vulgar apprentices, I suppose," put inOscar, laughing,
"Yes."
"Well, if refinement consists in wearing kid gloves and stunningneckties, I suppose the higher classes, as you call them, are morerefined."
"Do you mean me?" demanded Fletcher, who was noted for the characterof his neckties.
"Well, I can't say I don't. I suppose you regard yourself as arepresentative of the higher classes, don't you?"
"To be sure I do," said Fletcher, complacently.
"So I supposed. Then you see I had a right to refer to you. Nowlisten to my prediction. Twenty-five years from now, the boy whomyou look down upon as a vulgar apprentice will occupy a highposition, and you will be glad to number him among youracquaintances."
"Speak for yourself, Oscar," said Fletcher, scornfully.
"I speak for both of us."
"Then I say I hope I can command better associates than this friendof yours."
"You may, but I doubt it."
"You seem to be carried away by him," said Fitzgerald, pettishly. "Idon't see anything very wonderful about him, except dirty hands."
"Then you have seen more than I have."
"Of course a fellow who meddles with printer's ink must have dirtyhands. Faugh!" said Fletcher, turning up his nose.
At the same time he regarded complacently his own fingers, which hecarefully kept aloof from anything that would soil or mar theiraristocratic whiteness.
"The fact is, Fitz," said Oscar, argumentatively, "our upper ten, aswe call them, spring from just such beginnings as my friend HarryWalton. My own father commenced life in a printing office. But, asyou say, he occupies a high position at present."
"Really!" said Fletcher, a little taken aback, for he knew thatVincent's father ranked higher than his own.
"I daresay your own ancestors were not always p
atricians."
Fletcher winced. He knew well enough that his father commenced lifeas a boy in a country grocery, but in the mutations of fortune hadrisen to be the proprietor of a large dry-goods store on WashingtonStreet. None of the family cared to look back to the beginning ofhis career. They overlooked the fact that it was creditable to himto have risen from the ranks, though the rise was only in wealth, forMr. Fletcher was a purse-proud parvenu, who owed all theconsideration he enjoyed to his commercial position. Fitz liked tohave it understood that he was of patrician lineage, and carefullyignored the little grocery, and certain country relations whooccasionally paid a visit to their wealthy relatives, in spite of therather frigid welcome they received.
"Oh, I suppose there are exceptions," Fletcher admitted reluctantly."Your father was smart."
"So is Harry Walton. I know what he is aiming at, and I predict thathe will be an influential editor some day."
"Have you got your Greek lesson?" asked Fletcher, abruptly, who didnot relish the course the conversation had taken.
"Yes."
"Then I want you to translate a passage for me. I couldn't make itout."
"All right."
Half an hour later Fletcher left Vincent's room.
"What a snob he is!" thought Oscar.
And Oscar was right.