When I was looking for some evidence that I was remembered by those far from the folds of learning and was hunting some mail I came upon the only thing which I dread worse than a bill--a card from my tutor. So I had to chase up to the pleasant-scented, airy, and roomy bulk called Holyoke House and visit "my friend and my severest critic." Needless to say he was surprised and delighted to see me, even offered me a cigarette which I refused, remembering to fear the Greeks even bearing gifts, as Shakespeare said. At once my tutor began to show interest in my having done nothing much in particular. Though I made it look very interesting and intelligent--a couple of the better plays and that kind of thing. So he asked me if I had done my reading which I said I had. Well, that gave us something to use for conversation for a while. But as I wasn't exactly garrulous, he suggested unkindly that we plan for the next time. We did or rather he did. And honestly I don't blame them for praising Lincoln if any man could go as far as he did on about three books how far can I go on three hundred? If all that he gave me to read was bound in one volume it would look like the register of the national order of the benevolent and protective fraternity. I asked him for a cigarette then the fight was over. And he wants to see me again in two weeks he can providing he's interested in the dead. If the tutorial system is the gain that they say around here. I'm with Milton: or the Bible or whatever it is that says "My dearest gain I count but loss." This tutor of mine honestly would make Simon Legree look like a guardian angel.