The days passed and quickly too. I was absorbed in my studies and in trying to please my benefactor. He was very busy with his duties. In the mornings he usually went out to some village or to look at some road, bridge or building. During this time my teacher was with me. Our breakfast was at eleven when we had a pleasant time. Mr. Percy always had something new to tell me, made remarks on all kinds of subjects to give me ideas, and stimulate my intelligence. Then till evening he was in his court. After a time, when I had become somewhat acclimatized, so to speak, he took me with him on his evening drives to the club, the library and other public places. I kept retired as much as possible, conscious that I would appear awkward, and Mr. Percy showed his appreciation of my feelings. He was a man of the world enough to know that manners cannot be taught as from a recipe book. They must come by nature, from observation, be rubbed in by the friction of association, so he never gave me any instructions how to act, or placed any restraint upon me. Thus I was never uncomfortable in his presence since I had no fear of criticism. I was free to act, and he in all his ways, without suggesting his purpose, set me an example, in his manner, the tones of his voice, his words and method of expressing his thoughts. In after years I have often thought of this method of instruction and have wondered that so little attention is paid to the deportment, manners and personal habits of the instructors of youth. One, by observation, can invariably tell where persons were educated, from noticing in them the idiosyncrasies of their teachers. Man like a monkey is an imitative animal, and in early life he follows and becomes like that which most strikes his fancy. Mr. Percy was of course my model, and though I have seen many men of all degrees of culture and schools, I have never met a more worthy example. Though busy with my studies and taken up with the novelty of my life, I could not and would not forget the past. So great was the change that it seemed sometimes that I must be dreaming; but the events were too vivid in my memory to be anything but real.