“My nephew,” said 'Zekiel, “thinks a lot of your boy and wants him to go to college with him.”
“But I haven't got the money to pay his way,” said Mr. Chripp.
“My nephew has plenty of money, and if he's willing to help your boy along in the world there's nobody to object that I know of.”
So it was arranged that Tom Chripp should go to the preparatory school and college with Quincy, the latter to pay the expenses of both. “'Twas a lucky day for Tom that sent that Sawyer boy to school in Cottonton,” said Mr. Chripp to his wife.
“It'll be the making of Tom,” he added, and the happy mother thought so too.
When Mr. Strout heard of it, he remarked to his partner Mr. Maxwell,
“More of the arrogance of wealth. If I was a young man like Tom Chripp I'd make my own way in the world.”
Hiram swallowed some smoke, coughed, and then replied: “Probably he will, when he gits his eddikation. Money makes the mare go now as it always has, Obadiah, an' you an' me can't stop it.”
“Like father, like son, I guess, Hiram. His father used to enjoy throwing his money away an' the son's goin' to sail in the same boat. I shouldn't be surprised if he came back to town some day and licked somebody jest to be like his father.”
“I shouldn't nuther,” said Hiram as he began putting up an order for the Hawkins House.
While Quincy was attending the public schools, Mrs. Nathaniel Sawyer made two visits each year to Fernborough to learn of her grandson's progress. Thanksgiving he passed at his Uncle 'Zekiel's where he had eagerly watched the growth of the turkey that was destined to grace the festal board on that day. At Christmas he went to Boston and returned laden with gifts, many of which were immediately donated to his cousins and Mandy Maxwell's children.
Mr. Strout's ire was kindled when Hiram described the presents his children had received from Quincy.
“Thank the Lord I've got money enough to buy my children's presents myself without dependin' on second-hand things that other folks don't want.”
“So've I,” said Hiram, “but what I save that way I puts in the bank, for I'm bound to own the old Pettingill Place some day.”
“Oh, spend your money, Hiram. Your rich friends will give you the house some day.” He was so pleased with the subtle humour of his last remark that he tossed a scoop half full of coffee into the sugar barrel, much to Hiram's amusement.