The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (e book reader pc .TXT) 📕

empty on the knob of an andiron, sank deeper into his chair, and began to speak slowly.

“I think I’m going to tell you a thing or two about myself. We’ve got to room together, and I⁠—well, I like you. You’re a good egg, but you don’t get me at all. I guess you’ve never run up against anybody like me before.” He paused. Hugh said nothing, afraid to break into Carl’s mood. He was intensely curious. He leaned forward and watched Carl, who was staring dreamily into the fire.

“I told you once, I think,” he continued, “that my old man had left us a lot of jack. That’s true. We’re rich, awfully rich. I have my own account and can spend as much as I like. The sky’s the limit. What I didn’t tell you is that we’re nouveau riche⁠—no class at all. My old man made all his money the first year of the war. He was a commission-merchant, a middleman. Money just rolled in, I guess. He bought stocks with it, and they boomed; and he had sense enough to sell them when they were at the top. Six years ago we didn’t have hardly anything. Now we’re rich.”

“My old man was a good scout, but he didn’t have much education; neither has the old lady. Both of ’em went through grammar-school; that’s all.”

“Well, they knew they weren’t real folks, not regular people, and they wanted me to be. See? That’s why they sent me to Kane. Well, Kane isn’t strong for nouveau riche kids, not by a damn sight. At first old Simmonds⁠—he’s the head master⁠—wouldn’t take me, said that he didn’t have room; but my old man begged and begged, so finally Simmonds said all right.”

Again he paused, and Hugh waited. Carl was speaking so softly that he had trouble in hearing him, but somehow he didn’t dare to ask him to speak louder.

“I shan’t forget the day,” Carl went on, “that the old man left me at Kane. I was scared, and I didn’t want to stay. But he made me; he said that Kane would make a gentleman out of me. I was homesick, homesick as hell. I know how Morse feels. I tried to run away three times, but they caught me and brought me back. Cry? I bawled all the time when I was alone. I couldn’t sleep for weeks; I just laid in bed and bawled. God! it was awful. The worst of it was the meals. I didn’t know how to eat right, you see, and the master who sat at the table with our form would correct me. I used to want to die, and sometimes I would say that I was sick and didn’t want any food so that I wouldn’t have to go to meals. The fellows razzed the life out of me; some of ’em called me Paddy. The reason I came here to Sanford was that no Kane fellows come here. They go mostly to Williams, but some of ’em go to Yale or Princeton.

“Well, I had four years of that, and I was homesick the whole four years. Oh, I don’t mean that they kept after me all the time⁠—that was just the first few months⁠—but they never really accepted me. I never felt at home. Even when I was with a bunch of them, I felt lonesome.⁠ ⁠… And they never made a gentleman out of me, though my old lady thinks they did.”

“You’re crazy,” Hugh interrupted indignantly. “You’re as much a gentleman as anybody in college.”

Carl smiled and shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. You’re a gentleman, but I’m not. Oh, I know all the tricks, the parlor stunts. Four years at Kane taught me those, but they’re just tricks to me. I don’t know just how to explain it⁠—but I know that you’re a gentleman and I’m not.”

“You’re just plain bug-house. You make me feel like a fish. Why, I’m just from a country high school. I’m not in your class.” Hugh sat up and leaned eagerly toward Carl, gesticulating excitedly.

“As if that made any difference,” Carl replied, his voice sharp with scorn. “You see, I’m a bad egg. I drink and gamble and pet. I haven’t gone the limit yet on⁠—on account of my old lady⁠—but I will.”

Hugh was relieved. He had wondered more than once during the past week “just how far Carl had gone.” Several times Carl had suggested by sly innuendos that there wasn’t anything that he hadn’t done, and Hugh had felt a slight disapproval⁠—and considerable envy. His own standards were very high, very strict, but he was ashamed to reveal them.

“I’ve never gone the limit either,” he confessed shyly.

Carl threw back his head and laughed. “You poor fish; don’t you suppose I know that?” he exclaimed.

“How did you know?” Hugh demanded indignantly. “I might’ve. Why, I was out with a girl just before I left home and⁠—”

“You kissed her,” Carl concluded for him. “I don’t know how I knew, but I did. You’re just kinda pure; that’s all. I’m not pure at all; I’m just a little afraid⁠—and I keep thinkin’ of my old lady. I’ve started to several times, but I’ve always thought of her and quit.”

He sat silent for a minute or two and then continued more gently. “My old lady never came to Kane. She never will come here, either. She wants to give me a real chance. See? She knows she isn’t a lady⁠—but⁠—but, oh, God, Hugh, she’s white, white as hell. I guess I think more of her than all the rest of the world put together. That’s why I write to her every night. She writes to me every day, too. The letters have mistakes in them, but⁠—but they keep me straight. That is, they have so far. I know, though, that some night I’ll be out with a bag and get too much liquor in me⁠—and then goodbye, virginity.”

“You’re crazy, Carl. You know you won’t.” Carl rose from