“He is certainly a very fine man,” continued Mr. Wendell, “and――and”――here he hesitated a moment while a mischievous twinkle came into his eye――“and, from the brief but pleasant conversation that I enjoyed with somebody in the hallway at the end of my call, I should say that Professor Fuller had not only a nice disposition but a very nice daughter. Miss Nellie is the name, I think, eh?” “Miss Nettie,” said I, correcting him. “Nettie, yes, that’s the name; and a fine girl she is, too. Full of life and spirits. She takes your part royally. Hers is a friendship you ought to be proud of. How is it, Ray, you said nothing about Miss Nettie in your letter?” Ray said nothing now. He was looking at a picture on the opposite wall. His father was enjoying the situation in his good natured, teasing way. After a silence of several seconds’ duration Mr. Wendell, with an expression of increased mirth, suddenly asked: “What was that you said?” “I said nothing,” answered Ray, with a quiet smile, still gazing at the picture. “Miss Nettie is a very nice young lady, and we are very grateful for her kindness.” “Oh,” said his father, with a laugh, “then I suppose we will have to let it go that way. To return; I thanked Professor Fuller for the interest he had shown in the matter, and went over to see Dr. Drayton.” Here Mr. Wendell took off his glasses, wiped them, and returned them to his pocket. “Boys,” he continued after a pause, “tell me honestly, what do you think of Dr. Drayton?” “To be perfectly candid, Mr. Wendell,” I answered, “I think that, while Dr. Drayton does everything for the best, he has very little tact, and hardly any knowledge of the character of students. It seems very presumptuous in me to criticise our college president in this way, no doubt, but the instances have been so numerous in which he has totally misunderstood the fellows that I cannot help saying so. It really seems surprising that a man who has been president of a college for ten years should know so little about the nature of boys. He is an excellent scholar, a splendid teacher, and as a rule a good disciplinarian, but every now and then he shows himself altogether out of sympathy with the students, and in such cases is very apt to judge us unfairly.” “And what do you think, Ray?” asked his father, turning to his son. “Well, I have avoided saying much about Dr. Drayton to you in the past,” answered Ray, “for the very reason that my views coincide with Harry Elder’s.” “And how about you?” asked Mr. Wendell of Tony Larcom. “Oh, I think Dr. Drayton is an old _dodo_,” answered Tony recklessly. Mr. Wendell mastered an inclination to smile. “Your opinion is ruled out of court,” he said with as much gravity as he could summon. Tony subsided. “I am sure I do not know what you mean by ‘want of tact,’” continued Mr. Wendell.