“DEAR FATHER:—I meant to write you last week but was too busy”—”Not with your studies, I’ll be bound,” interpolated his father—“besides there isn’t much to write about here. It is a fearfully slow place”—“You wouldn’t find it so if you spent your time in study,” reflected Mr. Wentworth—“I don’t enjoy Latin and Greek very much, I don’t see what good they are ever going to do a fellow. You never studied Latin or Greek, and I am sure you have been very successful in life. I have an intimate friend here, Arthur Grigson, who is going to spend next year in traveling. He will go all over the United States to begin with, including the Pacific coast. I wish you would let me go with him. I am sure I would learn more in that way than I shall from the stuffy books I am studying here under that old mummy, Dr. McIntire. Arthur thinks he shall be ready to start in about six weeks. Please give your consent to my going with him by return of mail, so that I may begin to get ready. He thinks we can travel a year for two thousand dollars apiece.