"I know--I know," the president interposed, raising his hand as if to ward off more words. "And I would not have you think for a moment that we view you in any such light. On the contrary, I may say that personally I entertain for you the highest regard and consideration." "What is the matter, then?" Leigh demanded. "It seems no more than fair that I should be told definitely where the trouble lies." The other reflected awhile. "If I were to mention the one definite complaint, Mr. Leigh, it would not sum up the whole situation; it would be an explanation that only partially explained. However, the complaint has to do with your discipline in the class-room." Leigh stared incredulously. "Discipline?" he echoed. "Disorder in your class-room," Dr. Renshaw corroborated firmly. "Those passing by have heard laughter and unseemly shouts from within." "Who could have made such a report?" Leigh wondered, still at a loss. "The information came through a responsible channel, through one whose duty it is to take cognisance of such things and to report them to the proper authorities." He was surprised to see that his listener was laughing, not without a suggestion of scornfulness. "I 've heard the same unseemly shouts myself, Dr. Renshaw. They come from class meetings and athletic meetings that are held in my room nearly every day, when the place is not being used for recitations. There is n't a word of truth in the charge against me." Dr. Renshaw's face clouded, and he cleared his throat uneasily. "Mr. Leigh," he said with dignity, "I told you that the complaint would fail to sum up the whole situation. We may say _Quaestio cadit_ in regard to that, if you like. Let us look at it in another light, in the light of the best interests of the Hall and of yourself. There is a question of general fitness which implies no criticism upon yourself, upon your scholarship or character. We are a homogeneous community here, we understand each other and cherish the ideals which this college was built to inculcate. You are a product of an entirely different tradition. You were educated, and have previously taught, in a large university, and this makes it difficult, perhaps impossible, for you to appreciate the needs and the point of view of the small college. The ideal of the professor in a university is self-improvement and personal achievement; but in the small college, the teacher is expected to give, above everything else, personal service and devotion to the interests of his students. He should stand to a large extent _sancti parentis loco_. I do not say that you have consciously failed to improve this opportunity of service; I would say rather that, because of your previous academic experiences, you have failed to see it. The conviction has therefore been forced upon us, in spite of our personal regard for you and our appreciation of your attainments, that you would be happier and more useful in a larger institution, where the point of