The Adjunct, who was more well-meaning than diplomatic, and who, besides
(a rarer thing with old teachers than is generally supposed) was
esteemed by his former pupils, went and took the student without
ceremony by the arm, saying: 'Come, shall we two take a turn in the
garden?'

The young man turned round violently, but when he saw that it was the
old teacher, and received, at the same time, a troubled, imploring
glance from his mother, he passively allowed himself to be led away.

While in the doorway, he heard the lawyer, whom he had never been able
to endure, say something about the egg that would teach the hen to lay,
which witticism was received with uproarious laughter. A thrill passed
through him; but the Adjunct held him firmly, and out they went.

It was long before the old teacher could get him sufficiently quieted to
become susceptible to reason. The disappointment, the bitter sense of
being at variance with his father, and, not least, the affront of being
treated as a boy in the presence of so many--all this had to pour out
for awhile.

But at last he became calm, and sat down with his old friend, who now
pointed out to him that it must be very painful to an elderly man to be
corrected by a mere youth.

'Yes, but I was right,' said the student, certainly for the twentieth
time.

'Good, good! but yet you must not put on an air of wanting to be wiser
than your own father.'

'Why, my father himself said that he would have it so.'

'What? When did your father say that?' The teacher almost began to
believe that the wine had gone to the young gentleman's head.

'At the table--in his speech.'

'At the table--yes! In his speech--yes! But, don't you see, that is
quite another matter. People allow themselves to say such things,
especially in speeches; but it is by no means intended that these
theories should be translated into practice. No, believe me, my dear
boy, I am old, and I know humanity. The world must wag like this; we are
not made otherwise. In youth one ha