Until that time Philip must be content to
carry the suggestion of an attractive and eager young bird of prey.
Philip lights pipe after pipe as he dilates on his experiences since
last I saw him. The moralising instinct is very weak in me. I cannot
find it in my heart to censure Philip's constant mouthing of the pipe.
I, too, smoke, and I am not foolish enough to risk my standing with
Philip by preaching where I do not practise. Besides, I observe that the
boy does not inhale, that his pipe goes out frequently, and that his
consumption of matches is much greater than his consumption of tobacco.
So I say nothing in reproof of his pipe.
But it is different with his language. Philip, I observe regretfully, is
profane. I am not mealy-mouthed myself. There are moments of high
emotional tension when silence is the worst form of blasphemy. But
Philip is profane without discrimination. His supply of unobjectionable
adjectives would be insufficient to meet the needs of the ordinary
kindergarten conversation. He uses the same swift epithet to describe
certain brands of tobacco, the weather on commencement day, the food at
his eating-house, his professors of French and of mathematics, the
spirit of the incoming freshman class, and the outlook for "snap"
courses during the coming year.
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