refuse the gambit. “They were very indigestible,’^ he said quickly.
“Good!” Henley exclaimed. “I wanted them to give you a belly-ache, and I am delighted that you still suffer.”
“We do,” Pudge Jamieson admitted, “but we’d like to have a little mercy shown to us now. We ’ve spent four years here, and while we’ve enjoyed them, we’ve just about made up our jninds that they have been all in all wasted years.”
“No.” Henley was decisive. His playful manner entirely disappeared. “No, not wasted. You have enjoyed them, you say. Splendid justifi* cation. You will continue to enjoy them as the years grow between you and your college days. All men are sentimental about college, and in that sentimentality there is continuous pleasure.
“Your doubt delights me. Your feeling that you have n’t learned anything delights me, too. It proves that you have learned a great deal. It is only the ignoramus who thinks he is wise; the wise man knows that he is an ignoramus. That’s a platitude, but it is none the less true. I have cold comfort for you: the more you learn, the less con¬ fident you will be of your own learning, the more utterly ignorant you will feel. I have never known so much as the day I graduated from high school. I held my diploma and the knowledge of the ages
