Dear Jim

You have graduated—­I didn’t think you would—­with honors in football, baseball, prize-fighting, and five thousand dollars in debt.  How you got your diploma is beyond me—­in my day you would have got the sack.  Well, son, I am not surprised nor disappointed—­it is what I expected.  I know you are clean, though, and that some day you will awaken to the sterner side of life and an appreciation of your responsibilities.

To be an entirely orthodox father I should raise merry hell about your debts and utter inutility, at the same time disinheriting you, but instead I am going to urge you to come home and run in debt here where the cost of living is not so high as in the East—­meanwhile praying that your awakening may come while I am on earth to rejoice.

Your affectionate
father,

Am enclosing check to cover your debts and present needs.

For a long time the boy sat looking at the letter before him.  He reread it once, twice, three times, and with each reading the film of unconscious egotism that had blinded him to his own shortcomings gradually became less opaque, until finally he saw himself as his father must see him.  He had come to college for the purpose of fitting himself to succeed in some particular way in the stern battle of life which must follow his graduation; for, though his father had ample means to support him in insolence, Jimmy had never even momentarily considered such an eventuality.

In weighing his assets now he discovered that he had probably as excellent a conception of gridiron strategy and tactics as any man in America; that as a boxer he occupied a position in the forefront of amateur ranks; and he was quite positive that out-side of the major leagues there was not a better first baseman.

But in the last few minutes there had dawned upon him the realization that none of these accomplishments was greatly in demand in the business world.  Jimmy spent a very blue and unhappy hour, and then slowly his natural optimism reasserted itself, and with it came the realization of his youth and strength and inherent ability, which, without egotism, he might claim.

“And then, too,” he mused, “I have my diploma.  I am a college graduate, and that must mean something.  If dad had only reproached me or threatened some condign punishment I don’t believe I should feel half as badly as I do.  But every line of that letter breathes disappointment in me; and yet, God bless him, he tells me to come home and spend his money there.  Not on your life!  If he won’t disinherit me, I am going to disinherit myself.  I am going to make him proud of me.  He’s the best dad a fellow ever had, and I am going to show him that I appreciate him.”

And so he sat down and wrote his father this reply: 

    Dear dad: