I felt a
sudden gush of warmth as I recalled his comical ways.
Mrs. Pratt lit a fire in her Franklin stove and I racked my
head wondering how I could tread worthily in the Professor's
footsteps. Finally I fetched the "Jungle Book" from Parnassus
and read them the story of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. There was a long
pause when I had finished.
"Say, Pa," said Dick shyly, "that mongoose was rather like
Professor, wasn't he!"
Plainly the Professor was the traditional hero of this family,
and I began to feel rather like an impostor!
I suppose it was foolish of me, but I had already made up my
mind to push on to Woodbridge that night. It could not be
more than four miles, and the time was not much after eight.
I felt a little twinge of quite unworthy annoyance because I
was still treading in the glamour of the Professor's
influence. The Pratts would talk of nothing else, and I wanted
to get somewhere where I would be estimated at my own value,
not merely as his disciple. "Darn the Redbeard," I said to
myself, "I think he has bewitched these people!" And in spite
of their protests and invitations to stay the night, I
insisted on having Peg hitched up. I gave them the copy of
the "Jungle Book" as a small return for their hospitality, and
finally sold Mr.
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