Harry Walton sat in Oscar Vincent’s room, on the last evening of the term.  He had just finished reciting the last French lesson in which he would have Oscar’s assistance for some time to come.

“You have made excellent progress,” said Oscar.  “It is only two months since you began French, and now you take a long lesson in translation.”

“That is because I have so good a teacher.  But do you think I can get along without help during the summer?”

“No doubt of it.  You may find some difficulties, but those you can mark, and I will explain when I come back.  Or I’ll tell you what is still better.  Write to me, and I’ll answer.  Shall I write in French?”

“I wish you would, Oscar.”

“Then I will.  I’m rather lazy with the pen, but I can find time for you.  Besides, it will be a good way for me to keep up my French.”

“Shall you be in Boston all summer, Oscar?”

“No; our family has a summer residence at Nahant, a sea-shore place twelve miles from Boston.  Then I hope father will let me travel about a little on my own account.  I want to go to Saratoga and Lake George.”

“That would be splendid.”

“I wish you could go with me, Harry.”

“Thank you, Oscar, but perhaps you can secure Fletcher’s company.  That will be much better than that of a ‘printer’s devil’ like myself.”

“It may show bad taste, but I should prefer your company, notwithstanding your low employment.”

“Thank you, Oscar.  I am much obliged.”

“Fitz has been hinting to me how nice it would be for us to go off somewhere together, but I don’t see it in that light.  I asked him why he didn’t secure board with his cousin, the tin-pedler, but that made him angry, and he walked away in disgust.  But I can’t help pitying you a little, Harry.”

“Why?  On account of my occupation?”

“Partly.  All these warm summer days, you have got to be working at the case, while I can lounge in the shade, or travel for pleasure.  Sha’n’t you have a vacation?”

“I don’t expect any.  I don’t think I could well be spared.  However, I don’t mind it.  I hope to do good deal of studying while you are gone.”

“And I sha’n’t do any.”

“Neither would I, perhaps, in your position.  But there’s a good deal of difference between us.  You are a Latin and Greek scholar, and can talk French, while I am at the bottom of the ladder.  I have no time to lose.”

“You have begun to mount the ladder, Harry.  Don’t be discouraged.  You can climb up.”

“But I must work for it.  I haven’t got high enough up to stop and rest.  But there is one question I want to ask you, before you go.”

“What is it?”

“What French book would you recommend after I have finished this Reader?  I am nearly through now.”

“Telemaque will be a good book to take next.  It is easy and interesting.  Have you got a French dictionary?”