PREPARING FOR HARVARD 91 



Still, on going me over, my tutor thought I could be put in 

 the sophomore class in the autumn of 1859. 



Although my studies interested me, anything did, for I had 

 then and ever since a capacity to be interested in anything put 

 before me, my tutor most commanded my attention. He 

 was a senior in Harvard College, and had a well-deserved name 

 for scholarship in the classics as well as for a miscellaneous as- 

 sortment of talents and knowledge. He was reputed to be the 

 best player of the game of checkers in the country; knew the 

 political history of the United States amazingly well; was 

 learned in pugilism, having at his tongue's end the story of all 

 the prize fights of recent times ; withal he was the merriest little 

 man I have ever seen. His curly head and radiant visage 

 charmed me at first, and remain as treasured recollections in 

 a whole gallery of such memories. I well recall my first morn- 

 ing with him, when, after going over the best of what I could 

 and could not do, he asked me if I could box. I pleaded guilty 

 to some knowledge of that ignoble art. At that time I had not 

 learned of his interest in it, and thought that I would be lowered 

 in his eyes by the confession. To my surprise, indeed to my 

 horror, for I had a swordsman's contempt for the business, he 

 insisted on my having a bout with him at once. I had learned 

 boxing in Scherer's school of arms, where it was taught by a 

 competent man, but classed as a very degraded form of fight- 

 ing, ranking below quarterstaff. It was regarded as an ignoble 

 if sometimes necessary means of defence, only to be resorted 

 to in extremity when you were contending with common people 

 and had no blessed steel at hand. The eager little man proved 

 very unskilful. At the very first tap he tipped over, his head 

 going against a window-pane, smashing the glass but happily 

 not harming him. I shall never forget my mingled wonder and 

 exasperation at this incident. My training with the reverend 

 philosopher Escher had set up in my mind a category of the 

 tutor into which this new-found specimen by no means fitted. 



My work with my mentor went in a fair way for some months 



