Burly Girls, Bowheads, Young Studs, and the Old Bunch—and he hadn't left a mark on the wall. "A perfect gentleman, I'm happy to say," said J.S. "I'll take your word for it," said the doctor, "I'm sure you wouldn't lie." "No—I don't think I'd lie," said J.S. "Any man that's so much a gent that he doesn't see anything wrong in killing an innocent animal for fun is a man I wouldn't care to be around." "You are a poet," said the doctor, "and what I don't get is how you expect to be a politician when you speak with such contempt of other people's lives. "You are still thinking like a boy, my lad, and I suggest you try to think like a man." "That's what I am trying to do," said J.S. "Look, Doctor, I was born too late and got too old too early. It's up to me to make the best of my time. This is a hard game for a man." The doctor looked up in exasperation at J.S. "I'm not going to stand for such a lecture on morals from you," he said. "There's a time for everything and at the present moment it's all right to play. No man can be a beast in one phase of his life and become a saint in another. But let me tell you something, J.S., if you don't go in for hunting and running game you'll never be a gentleman. I mean a real one. I'm not talking about a gentleman in the modern sense. I'm talking about a gentleman of the golden age, a gentleman who was as much a gentleman in Hyde Park or at the Horse Show as he was on his estate or in the stables with his horses. These fellows were rare, and it's very important to understand that in them was born a spirit which made them noble and made their blood pure. They were the backbone of the nation and there was nobody who was a gentleman in those days who couldn't take his place on the gridiron as well as on the billiard table. You'll never see such a type again. You are talking through your hat and it makes me angry to hear you. You can't run a race without running something. And if you think I'm going to call you a coward because you missed a rabbit, you know nothing about my son and nothing about me, either." "I am afraid I never had much education," said J.S. "As a matter of fact, I never even saw a dead rabbit. I'll bet you didn't do that either. You haven't got the stomach for it." "I'll tell you what I'll do," said the doctor, "I'll let you write a little essay about sport, hunting, and angling for my paper. Then you can show people how the young are supposed to live." "I'd like to do that," said J.S. "I'd like to write an essay for the paper and have it printed for the use of young gentlemen like myself." "Just as you say," said the doctor. "But I tell you what I'll do if you're very nice and if you write the most beautiful things I've ever read—I'll give you a little piece of advice to help you out, something like this. Never take a man by his whiskers and you'll go a long way. Some men are made of iron and others of silk and many people think they're as weak as water, but if you take a fellow by his whiskers he will fight you—he won't always be gentle with you, either. Some men think they are so tough they don't need any butter, but I have seen fat men with fine appetites and weak constitutions. Let me ask you, young man, if you think you are not strong in any way, do you think you're weak in any way? And don't forget, J.S., that the greatest man in the world is the kind that can do anything. He can do anything, but he has to do it on his own conditions." "Just a moment," said J.S. "What's wrong with you?" "Nothing, sir," said the doctor, "I'm just a boy, but I like to talk with you. Don't think too badly of me, J.S. "That's all very fine," said J.S., "but if you feel so unhappy why don't you do something about it?" "What could I do?" said the doctor. "I'm not a lucky fellow, J.S., or I'd have some money saved up, and I'd go somewhere out of the country and live in the country. I don't know—I don't know. There are many things I can't explain but there must be a way out of the darkness—I know that." "You're like many of the men I've met," said J.S. "You are fighting against your weakness, and that is a very fatal thing to do." "I'm not fighting against it," said the doctor. "I fight against being born." "Well," said J.S., "I'm going to be gone for quite a while. I suppose you'll be glad to be alone with your books again." "I'll be all right," said the doctor. "Good-by, J.S." When J.S. left the doctor's house he walked for a while without thinking of anything, and then he turned into the park and walked towards Mr. Bingham's. He met an old gentleman on horseback and stopped and waited for him. "I'm looking for Mr. Bingham," said J.S. "I am Mr. Bingham," said the old gentleman. "It's a long time since I've seen you, sir," said J.S. "Many years, J.S., but I think I recognize you," said Mr. Bingham. "You live in a very fine house and I remember your old father as well as you do." "Yes, sir, I've been abroad since then and I don't find the world much changed." "I was afraid you had forgotten me," said Mr. Bingham. "You were a mere boy when you were last here and I'm afraid we old men get older every day. Do you find this country changing as much as you think?" "It hasn't changed," said J.S., "and there are no great changes in a country where there are no changes." "That's very true, J.S., and it seems to me that many of the old England is still left in spite of the fact that the old England has been dead for some time. There's something about this place that makes you feel it and make you long to be back." "You make me think of the past," said J.S. "In a way, you are the one that gave me the spirit for it, and you, sir, were one of the very last Englishmen I could look up to. You remember, sir, what you said to me that night when I was sixteen. I can't put it into words now, but it's a good thing to be able to put things into words and you gave me the way to do it. I had a certain thing in my mind and you helped me to develop it. I've taken the path you gave me and that's how I feel. I'll tell you, sir, I've a piece of business to do and I'll be going now and I don't know when I'll be back again." "I'm glad to see you again, J.S.," said Mr. Bingham. "There are so many things to do in this life and I must confess that I can't make out what all of us are here for." "You are right, Mr. Bingham, we're here for something and I can't quite make out what it is myself. Maybe you can tell me, though. But there's one thing that seems to me to be about half rotten and we mustn't forget it." "Yes, what is it?" said Mr. Bingham. "It's the kind of thing that I can hardly speak of," said J.S. "I've never met anyone in this country that was my equal and I'd like to be." "I never met any man who wasn't my inferior," said Mr. Bingham. "I'm glad you said that, sir," said J.S. "You've taken the spirit out of me and I'm all right now." "Well, J.S., I'm glad you are coming over to us in some way," said Mr. Bingham. "It's very odd, I know, but I think we have talked to each other often before. There is one thing I want to say to you, J.S., and I'll say it as well as I can. It's to be taken and it's a good thing to take it—but it can't be put away." "No, sir," said J.S., "I don't think it can be put away." "And you must never be afraid to look it in the face