The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📖

A Long Walk Into The Country And Came Back More

Confused Than Ever. He Was Flattered By Her Letter,  Moved By It; He

Tried To Persuade Himself That He Loved Her As She Loved Him--And He

Could Not Do It. His Passion For Her Was No Longer Overpowering,  And No

Amount Of Thinking Could Make It So. In The End He Temporized. His

Letter Was Brief.

 

 

 

Chapter 19 Pg 148

 

       Dear Cynthia:

 

       There Is No Need,  I Guess,  To Tell You That Your Letter

       Swept Me Clean Off My Feet. I Am Still Dizzy With

       Confusion. I Don'T Know What To Say,  And I Have Decided

       That It Is Best For Me Not To Say Anything Until I Know

       My Own Mind. I Couldn'T Be Fair Either To You Or Myself

       Otherwise. And I Want To Be Fair; I Must Be.

 

       Give Me Time,  Please. It Is Because I Care So Much For

       You That I Ask It. Don'T Worry If You Don'T Hear From Me

       For Weeks. My Silence Won'T Mean That I Have Forgotten

       You; It Will Mean That I Am Thinking Of You.

 

                                Sincerely,

                                                Hugh.

 

 

 

 

Her Answer Came Promptly:

 

 

 

 

       Hugh,  My Dear--

 

       I Was A Fish To Write That Letter--And I Know That I'Ll

       Never Forgive Myself. But I Couldn'T Help It--I Just

       Couldn'T Help It. I Am Glad That You Are Keeping Your

       Head Because I'Ve Lost Mine Entirely. Take All The Time

       You Like. Do You Hate Me For Losing My Pride? I Do.

 

                                Your Stupid

                                                Cynthia.

 

 

 

 

Weeks Went By,  And Hugh Found No Solution. He Damned College With All

His Heart And Soul. What Good Had It Done Him Anyway? Here He Was With A

Serious Problem On His Hands And He Couldn'T Solve It Any Better Than He

Could Have When He Was A Freshman. Four Years Of Studying And Lectures

And Examinations,  And The First Time He Bucked Up Against A Bit Of Life

He Was Licked.

 

Eventually He Wrote To Her And Told Her That He Was Fonder Of Her Than

He Was Of Any Girl That He Had Ever Known But That He Didn'T Know

Whether He Was In Love With Her Or Not. "I Have Learned To Distrust My

Own Emotions," He Wrote,  "And My Own Decisions. The More I Think The

More Bewildered I Become. I Am Afraid To Ask You To Marry Me For Fear

That I'Ll Wreck Both Our Lives,  And I'M Afraid Not To Ask You For The

Same Reason. Do You Think That Time Will Solve Our Problem? I Don'T

Know. I Don'T Know Anything."

 

She Replied That She Was Willing To Wait Just So Long As They Continued

To Correspond; She Said That She Could No Longer Bear Not To Hear From

Chapter 19 Pg 149

Him. So They Wrote To Each Other,  And The Tangle Of Their Relations

Became More Hopelessly Knotted. Cynthia Never Sent Another Letter So

Unguarded As Her First,  But She Made No Pretense Of Hiding Her Love.

 

As Hugh Sank Deeper And Deeper Into The Bog Of Confusion And Distress,

His Contempt For His College "Education" Increased. One Night In May He

Expressed That Contempt To A Small Group Of Seniors.

 

"College Is Bunk," Said Hugh Sternly,  "Pure Bunk. They Tell Us That We

Learn To Think. Rot! I Haven'T Learned To Think; A Child Can Solve A

Simple Human Problem As Well As I Can. College Has Played Hell With Me.

I Came Here Four Years Ago A Darned Nice Kid,  If I Do Say So Myself. I

Was Chock-Full Of Ideals And Illusions. Well,  College Has Smashed Most

Of Those Ideals And Knocked The Illusions Plumb To Hell. I Thought,  For

Example,  That All College Men Were Gentlemen; Well,  Most Of Them Aren'T.

I Thought That All Of Them Were Intelligent And Hard Students."

 

The Group Broke Into Loud Laughter. "Me,  Too," Said George Winsor When

The Noise Had Abated. "I Thought That I Was Coming To A Regular

Educational Heaven,  Halls Of Learning And All That Sort Of Thing. Why,

It'S A Farce. Here I Am Sporting A Phi Bete Key,  An Honor Student If You

Please,  And All That I Really Know As A Result Of My College 'Education'

Is The Fine Points Of Football And How To Play Poker. I Don'T Really

Know One Damn Thing About Anything."

 

The Other Men Were Jack Lawrence And Pudge Jamieson. Jack Was An Earnest

Chap,  Serious And Hard Working But Without A Trace Of Brilliance. He,

Too,  Wore A Phi Beta Kappa Key,  And So Did Pudge. Hugh Was The Only One

Of The Group Who Had Not Won That Honor; The Fact That He Was The Only

One Who Had Won A Letter Was Hardly,  He Felt,  Complete Justification.

His Legs No Longer Seemed More Important Than His Brains; In Fact,  When

He Had Sprained A Tendon And Been Forced To Drop Track,  He Had Been

Genuinely Pleased.

 

Pudge Was Quite As Plump As He Had Been As A Freshman And Quite As

Jovial,  But He Did Not Tell So Many Smutty Stories. He Still Persisted

In Crossing His Knees In Spite Of The Difficulties Involved. When

Winsor Finished Speaking,  Pudge Forced His Legs Into His Favorite

Position For Them And Then Twinkled At Winsor Through His Glasses.

 

"Right You Are,  George," He Said In His Quick Way. "I Wear A Phi Bete

Key,  Too. We Both Belong To The World'S Greatest Intellectual

Fraternity,  But What In Hell Do We Know? We'Ve All Majored In english

Except Jack,  And I'Ll Bet Any One Of Us Can Give The Others An Exam

Offhand That They Can'T Pass. I'M Going To Law School. I Hope To God

That I Learn Something There. I Certainly Don'T Feel That I Know

Anything Now As A Result Of My Four Years Of 'Higher Education.'"

 

"Well,  If You Fellows Feel That Way," Said Hugh Mournfully,  "How Do You

Suppose I Feel? I Made My First Really Good Record Last Term,  And That

Wasn'T Any World Beater. I'Ve Learned How To Gamble And Smoke And Drink

And Pet In college,  But That'S About All That I Have Learned. I'M Not As

Fine As I Was When I Came Here. I'Ve Been Coarsened And Cheapened; All

Of Us Have. I Take Things For Granted That Shocked Me Horribly Once. I

Know That They Ought To Shock Me Now,  But They Don'T. I'Ve Made Some

Friends And I'Ve Had A Wonderful Time,  But I Certainly Don'T Feel That I

Have Got Any Other Value Out Of College."

Chapter 19 Pg 150

 

Winsor Could Not Sit Still And Talk. He Filled His Pipe Viciously,

Lighted It,  And Then Jumped Up And Leaned Against The Mantel. "I Admit

Everything That'S Been Said,  But I Don'T Believe That It Is Altogether

Our Fault." He Was Intensely In earnest,  And So Were His Listeners.

"Look At The Faculty. When I Came Here I Thought That They Were All Wise

Men Because They Were On The Faculty. Well,  I'Ve Found Out Otherwise.

Some Of Them Know A Lot And Can'T Teach,  A Few Of Them Know A Lot And

Can Teach,  Some Of Them Know A Little And Can'T Teach,  And Some Of Them

Don'T Know Anything And Can'T Explain C-A-T. Why,  Look At Kempton. That

Freshman,  Larson,  Showed Me A Theme The Other Day That Kempton Had

Corrected. It Was Full Of Errors That Weren'T Marked,  And It Was Nothing

In The World But Drip. Even Larson Knew That,  But He'S The Foxy Kid; He

Wrote The Theme About Kempton. All Right--Kempton Gives Him A B And

Tells Him That It Is Very Amusing. Hell Of A Lot Larson'S Learning. Look

At Kane In Math. I Had Him When I Was A Freshman."

 

"Me,  Too," Hugh Chimed In.

 

"'Nough Said,  Then. Math'S Dry Enough,  God Knows,  But Kane Makes It

Dryer. He'S A Born Desiccator. He Could Make 'Hamlet' As Dry As

Calculus."

 

"Right-O," Said Pudge. "But Mitchell Could Make Calculus As Exciting As

'Hamlet.' It'S Fifty-Fifty."

 

"And They Fired Mitchell." Jack Lawrence Spoke For The First Time. "I

Have That Straight. The Administration Seems Afraid Of A Man That Can

Teach. They'Ve Made Buchanan A Full Professor,  And There Isn'T A Man In

College Who Can Tell What He'S Talking About. He'S Written A Couple Of

Books That Nobody Reads,  And That Makes Him A Scholar. I Was Forced To

Take Three Courses With Him. They Were Agony,  And He Never Taught Me A

Damn Thing."

 

"Most Of Them Don'T Teach You A Damn Thing," Winsor Exclaimed,  Tapping

His Pipe On The Mantel. "They Either Tell You Something That You Can

Find More Easily In a Book,  Or Just Confuse You With A Lot Of Ponderous

Lectures That Put You To Sleep Or Drive You Crazy If You Try To

Understand Them."

 

"There Are Just About A Dozen Men In This College Worth Listening To,"

Hugh Put In,  "And I'Ve Got Three Of Them This Term. I'M Learning More

Than I Did In My Whole Three First Years. Let'S Be Fair,  Though. We'Re

Blaming It All On The Profs,  And You Know Damn Well That We Don'T Study.

All We Try To Do Is To Get By--I Don'T Mean You Phi Betes; I Mean All

The Rest Of Us--And If We Can Put Anything Over On The Profs We Are

Tickled Pink. We'Re Like A Lot Of Little Kids In Grammar-School. Just

Look At The Cheating That Goes On,  The Copying Of Themes,  And The

Cribbing. It'S Rotten!"

 

Winsor Started To Protest,  But Hugh Rushed On. "Oh,  I Know That The

Majority Of The Fellows Don'T Consciously Cheat; I'M Talking About The

Copying Of Math Problems And The Using Of Trots And The Paraphrasing Of

'Literary Digest' Articles For Themes And All That Sort Of Thing. If

More Than Half Of The Fellows Don'T Do That Sort Of Thing Some Time Or

Other In college,  I'Ll Eat My Hat. And We All Know Darned Well That We

Aren'T Supposed To Do It,  But The Majority Of Fellows Cheat In Some Way

Or Other Before They Graduate!