“So much the better,” thought Fitzgerald, for, as Hooper was poor, and went coarsely clothed, he looked down upon him.  Fortunately for himself he did not give utterance to his thought.

“Does Mr. Fletcher put his recommendation into the form of an amendment?” asked, the President.

“I do.”

“Be kind enough to state it, then.”

Fletcher did so, but as no one seconded it, no action was of course taken.

“Nominations for membership are now in order,” said the President.

“I should like to propose my friend Henry Walton.”

“Who is Henry Walton?” asked a member.

“Mr. President, may I answer the gentleman?” asked Fitzgerald Fletcher, rising to his feet.

“As the nominee is not to be voted upon this evening, it is not in order.”

“Mr. President,” said Oscar, “I should be glad to have the gentleman report his information.”

“Mr. Fletcher may speak if he desires it, but as the name will be referred to the Committee on Nominations, it is hardly necessary.”

“Mr. President, I merely wish to inform the Society, that Mr. Walton occupies the dignified position of printer’s devil in the office of the ‘Centreville Gazette.’”

“Mr. President,” said Oscar, “may I ask the indulgence of the Society long enough to say that I am quite aware of the fact.  I will add that Mr. Walton is a young man of excellent abilities, and I am confident will prove an accession to the Society.”

“I cannot permit further remarks on a matter which will come in due course before the Committee on Nominations,” said the President.

“The next business in order is the debate.”

Of the debate, and the further proceedings, I shall not speak, as they are of no special interest.  But after the meeting was over, groups of members discussed matters which had come up during the evening.  Fletcher approached Oscar Vincent, and said, “I can’t see, Oscar, why you are trying to get that printer’s devil into our Society.”

“Because he’s a good fellow, and smart enough to do us credit.”

“If there were any bootblacks in Centreville I suppose you’d be proposing them?” said Fletcher with a sneer.

“I might, if they were as smart as my friend Walton.”

“You are not very particular about your friends,” said Fletcher in the same tone.

“I don’t ask them to open their pocket-books, and show me how much money they have.”

“I prefer to associate with gentlemen.”

“So do I.”

“Yet you associate with that printer’s devil.”

“I consider him a gentleman.”

Fletcher laughed scornfully.

“You have strange ideas of a gentleman,” he said.

“I hold the same,” said James Hooper, who had come up in time to hear the last portion of the conversation.  “I don’t think a full purse is the only or the chief qualification of a gentleman.  If labor is to be a disqualification, then I must resign all claims to be considered a gentleman, as I worked on a farm for two years before coming to school, and in that way earned the money to pay my expenses here.”