The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1922-12-11

agreeable TO heart suppose that
college is designed to save us all q lot
of hard knocks: wonder if it does?"
If you're asking me personally
I'll say that there are Jumps on my
brow where I have bumped hard, in
spite of my ABB. degree. I'm dis
posed to think that college only post
pones the day CT our awakening;
we've got to shoot the chutes any
how. 1t is so written.
She laughed at his way Of put.
ting 1t.
'Oh, you're not so much older that
you can brighten me. People on the
toboggan always seem TO be having
a good time; the percentage Of those
whose car Jumps the track isn't for
midable.''
Just enough fatalities to flavor the
statistics. The seniors over there
have stopped singings I dare say
they're talking about life In large
capital letters"
We'll, there are plenty OF chances.
I'm rather of the opinion that we're
all hero to do something for some
body. Nobody's life is just his own
Whether we want 1t that way or not,
we are all links in the chain, and It's
our business not to be the weakest"
Tn an individualist," he said,
and I'm very largely concerned In
seeing what Daniel HARDWOOD, a poor
young lawyer Of mediocre abilities,
can DO with this thing we hear men
toned as life"
'Oh, but there's no such thing as
an individualits; the idea is purely
academic" and she laughed again. but
less lightly. We're all debtors to
somebody or something-to the world
itself, for example,"
For the stars up there, for grass
and trees, for the moon by night and
the sun by day-for the gracious gift
Of friendsf"
"A little. yes; but they don't count
so much. I owe my debt TO the peo-
ple-real human beings, who may
not be as lucky as I. For a good
many thousand years people have
| been at work trying to cheer up the
world-br1ghten It and make It a
better place to live in. I owe ell
those people something IT'S not
merely a little something: IT'S. a ire
mendous lot, and 1 must pay these
other human beings who don't know
what they're entitled to. You have
felt that; you have felt It just as I
have, I'm sure"
You are still IN college, and that
is what undergraduates are taught to
call ideals. Miss Garrison. hope
you Will hold on to them; had mine.
but I'm conscious Of late that I'm
losing my grip on them. It's inevi-
IN IN
thing that women hold on to them
longer; without woman's faith In such
things the world would be a sad old
cinder, tumbling almlessly around the
void"
She stopped abruptly in the path,
very tall and slim IN the dusk Of star
light and moonlight. He had been
carrying his hat in his hand and he
leaned on his stick wondering whether
she were really in earnest, whether
he had displeased her by the half.
hooking tone IN which he had spoken.
They had made the complete circuit
Of the campus several times and
Sylvia said It was time to 20 back.
Mrs. Owen greeted them cheerily from
the little veranda. They were to start
for Boston in the morning, and IIar-
wood was to stay in Montgomery a
day or two longer on business con-
nccted with the estate. Don't let my
sad philosophy keep you awake, Mr..
IIarwoOdl-I've given him all my life
| program, Mrs. Owen. I think It has
| had a depressing influence on him.
TITS merely that you have reused
me to a sense Of my own general
worldliness and worthlessness." he re-
piled, laughing as they shook hands.
Il guess Sylvia can tell you a good
many things, Daniel" said Mrs.
/ Owen. L wish you'd call Myers
/ he's my Seymour farmer-on the long
| distance IN the morning. and tell him
not to think I won't be down to look
/ at his corn when I get back Tell
him I've gone to college. but I'll be
right down there when I get home"