Part 4 (1/2)
But Jeff had been given a mind unable to lie to itself. He was in very essence a non-conformist. To him age alone did not lend sanct.i.ty to the ghosts of dead yesterdays that rule to-day.
CHAPTER 3
”Whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind,”--Emerson.
CONVERSING ON RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY, THE REBEL LEARNS THAT IT IS SOMETIMES WISE TO SOFT PEDAL IDEAS UNLESS THEY ARE ACCEPTED ONES
During his freshman year Jeff saw little of his cousin beyond the usual campus greetings, except for a period of six weeks when the junior happened to need him. But the career of James K. tickled immensely the under cla.s.sman's sense of humor. He was becoming the most dazzling success ever developed by the college. Even with the faculty he stood high, for if he lacked scholars.h.i.+p he had the more showy gifts that went farther. He knew when to defer and when to ride roughshod to his end.
It was felt that his brilliancy had a solidity back of it, a quality of flintiness that would endure.
James was inordinately ambitious and loved the spotlight like an actor. The flamboyant oratory at which he excelled had won for him the interstate contest. He was editor-in-chief of the ”Verdenian,” manager of the varsity football team, and president of the college senate.
With the beginning of his senior year James entered another phase of his development. He offered to the college a new, or at least an enlarged, interpretation of himself. Some of his smiling good-fellows.h.i.+p had been sloughed to make way for the benignity of a budding statesman. He still held a tolerant att.i.tude to the antics of his friends, but it was easy to see that he had put away childish things. To his many young women admirers he talked confidentially of his aims and aspirations. The future of James K. Farnum was a topic he never exhausted.
It was, too, a subject which greatly interested Jeff and Sam Miller.
His cousin might smile at his poses, and often did, but he never denied James qualities likely to carry him far.
”His one best bet is his belief in himself,” Sam announced one night.
”It's a great thing to believe in yourself.”
”He's so dead sure he's cast for a big part. The egoism just oozes out of him. He doesn't know himself that he's a faker.”
”He is a long way from that,” Jeff protested warmly.
”Take his oratory,” Miller went on irritably. ”It's all bunk. He throws a chest and makes you feel he's a big man, but what he says won't stand a.n.a.lysis--just a lot of plat.i.tudes.”
”Don't forget he's young yet. James K. hasn't found himself.”
”Sure there's anything to find?”
”There's a lot in him. He's the biggest man in the university to-day.”
”You practically wrote the oration that won the interstate contest.
Think I don't know that?” Miller snorted.
Jeff's mouth took on a humorous twist. ”I gave him some suggestions. How did you know?”
”Knew he wasn't hanging around last term for nothing. He's selfish as the devil.”
”You're all wrong about him, Sam. He isn't selfish at all at bottom.”
”Shoot the brains out of that oration and what's left would be the part he supplied. The fellow's got a gift of absorbing new ideas superficially and dressing them up smartly.”
”Then he's got us beat there,” Jeff laughed goodnaturedly. He had not in his make-up a grain of envy. Even his laughter was generally genial, though often irreverent to the G.o.d-of-things-as-they-are.
”When he won the interstate he lapped up flattery like a thirsty pup, but his bluff was that it was only for the college he cared to win.”