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28 IT TOOK NINE TAILORS
"Ze dean of ze college wrote me a lettaire," he said, looking very grim. " 'E does not zink you study enough each night."
"I stay up till one or two o'clock," I answered truthfully. "What more can I do?"
To get his mind off the subject I took him for a walk around the campus and finally suggested a game of billiards, since I knew it was his favorite pastime. We dropped into a pool hall and immediately I knew I had made a mistake. The habitues of the joint all greeted me familiarly.
"You come to zis place often, Adolphe?" Father inquired, as he chalked his cue.
"Oh no," I assured him. "Just now and then on a Saturday night."
Then we started to play. After I had won two games from him he gave me a dour look and said, "Perhaps, son, you spend too much time studying ze wrong subject."
Fortunately, when I flunked my finals at the end of the year, Father was in Europe, where he had gone to replenish the wine cellar of the Bismarck. Henry, on the other hand, had passed his entrance exams to Cornell with flying colors. Had Father been home, we would have had pyrotechnics early that year; but as it was, he received the news in Paris, where such dreary matters as college grades are taken lightly.
Meanwhile, Henry and I discovered that before leaving for Europe Father had sold his horses and purchased an automobile. We could hardly believe the good news, for Father was a diehard when it came to automobiles.
The car was a secondhand Garford. Its most distinctive characteristic was that it had only one headlight, imbedded squarely in the middle of the radiator. Coming down the road at night it looked like a motorcycle, which is why Garford owners were always getting their fenders sheared off.
We drove the car all summer until Father came back from Europe. By that time the Garford, which must have had a rugged past even before Father bought it, was ready to be turned