"I try to study--I honestly try to study; but somehow--I don't
know how--I can't study. Perhaps I am a failure. Perhaps I am not made
for study. I want to go out into the world. I want to see life--to live.
I don't want any military academy; I 'd sooner go to sea--anywhere where
I can do something and be something."
Mr. Bronson looked at him kindly. "It is only through study that you can
hope to do something and be something in the world," he said.
Joe threw up his hand with a gesture of despair.
"I know how you feel about it," Mr. Bronson went on; "but you are only a
boy, very much like that young sparrow we were watching. If at home you
have not sufficient control over yourself to study, then away from home,
out in the world which you think is calling to you, you will likewise
not have sufficient control over yourself to do the work of that world.
"But I am willing, Joe, I am willing, after you have finished high school
and before you go into the university, to let you out into the world for
a time."
"Let me go now?" Joe asked impulsively.
"No; it is too early. You have n't your wings yet. You are too unformed,
and your ideals and standards are not yet thoroughly fixed."
"But I shall not be able to study," Joe threatened. "I know I shall not
be able to study."
Mr. Bronson consulted his watch and arose to go.
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