the State House and the Shaw Memorial, where Calvin read for himself the thrilling Latin, "Omnia Relinquit, Servare Rem Publicam." They went to Old North Church, of course; to Bunker Hill and to the harbor into which was tipped the tea; and they supped, afterwards, in solemn state of two at the Touraine Hotel.
Calvin always called them "great" days, but they did not make him more at ease with his father. He thought he was perfectly at ease with his mother; at least he felt able to tell her a good deal of what came into his mind and bothered him, but he did not actually bring many of his troubles to her. instead, he tried to work them out himself by referring to the principles with which she had supplied him.
"What do you think about this yourself, Calvin?" she customarily asked him, when he had appealed to her; and when he took thought and answered, she almost invariably said, "Exactly. You knew it within yourself." So, naturally, he referred more and more to himself, and less to her; and he knew that it pleased her to have him leave home alone, head up and with eyes dry, to start at Phillips' Academy.
He roomed with a boy who cried, one night, from homesickness.
"I guess you'd feel bad, too," said the boy, defending himself, "if you lived more'n ten miles away."
Calvin made no reply, but wondered what difference fifty or ten miles made and what good it did to cry for your mother. He imagined his mother finding him in tears for her!
He entered, as had his father, fully into the activities of the school and "made" the track team; and with half of his class from the academy, he passed on into Harvard, where he rowed as had his grandfather, Calvin Clarke. Of course, he "made" one of the first tens of "The Insti-
