The Honorable Peter Stirling | Page 4

the report in
studies. "Exemplary," in conduct. He was not a leader among the boys,
but he was very generally liked. A characteristic fact, for good or bad,
was that he had no enemies. From the clergyman to the "hired help,"
everybody had a kind word for him, but tinctured by no enthusiasm. All
spoke of him as "a good boy," and when this was said, they had nothing
more to say.
One important exception to this statement is worthy of note. The girls
of the High School never liked him. If they had been called upon for
reasons, few could have given a tangible one. At their age, everything
this world contains, be it the Falls of Niagara, or a stick of chewing

gum, is positively or negatively "nice." For some crime of commission
or omission, Peter had been weighed and found wanting. "He isn't
nice," was the universal verdict of the scholars who daily filed through
the door, which the town selectmen, with the fine contempt of the
narrow man for his unpaid "help," had labelled, "For Females." If they
had said that he was "perfectly horrid," there might have been a chance
for him. But the subject was begun and ended with these three words.
Such terseness in the sex was remarkable and would have deserved a
psychological investigation had it been based on any apparent data. But
women's opinions are so largely a matter of instinct and feeling, and so
little of judgment and induction, that an analysis of the mental
processes of the hundred girls who had reached this one conclusion,
would probably have revealed in each a different method of obtaining
this product. The important point is to recognize this consensus of
opinion, and to note its bearing on the development of the lad.
That Peter could remain ignorant of this feeling was not conceivable. It
puzzled him not a little when he first began to realize the prejudice, and
he did his best to reverse it. Unfortunately he took the very worst way.
Had he avoided the girls persistently and obviously, he might have
interested them intensely, for nothing is more difficult for a woman to
understand than a woman-hater; and from the days of mother Eve the
unknown is rumored to have had for her sex a powerful fascination. But
he tried to win their friendship by humbleness and kindness, and so
only made himself the more cheap in their eyes. "Fatty Peter," as they
jokingly called him, epitomized in two words their contempt of him.
Nor did things mend when he went to Harvard. Neither his mother's
abilities nor his choice were able to secure for him an _entrée_ to the
society which Cambridge and Boston dole out stintedly to certain
privileged collegians. Every Friday afternoon he went home, to return
by an early train Monday morning. In his first year it is to be
questioned if he exchanged ten words with women whose names were
known to him, except during these home-visits. That this could long
continue, was impossible. In his second year he was several times taken
by his chum, Watts D'Alloi, to call. But always with one result.
Invariably Peter would be found talking to Mamma, or, better still,

from his point of view, with Pater-familias, while Watts chatted with
the presumptive attractions. Watts laughed at him always. Laughed still
more when one of these calls resulted in a note, "requesting the
pleasure" of Mr. Peter Stirling's company to dinner. It was Watts who
dictated the acceptance, helped Peter put the finishing touches to his
toilet, and eventually landed him safely in Mrs. Purdie's parlor. His
description to the boys that night of what followed is worthy of
quotation:
"The old fellow shook hands with Mrs. P., O.K. Something was said
about the weather, and then Mrs. P. said, 'I'll introduce you to the lady
you are to take down, Mr. Stirling, but I shan't let you talk to her before
dinner. Look about you and take your choice of whom you would like
to meet?' Chum gave one agonized look round the room. There wasn't a
woman over twenty-five in sight! And what do you think the wily old
fox said? Call him simple! Not by a circumstance! A society beau
couldn't have done it better. Can't guess? Well, he said, 'I'd like to talk
to you, Mrs. Purdie.' Fact! Of course she took it as a compliment, and
was as pleased as could be. Well, I don't know how on earth he ever got
through his introduction or how he ever reached the dining-room, for
my inamorata was so pretty that I thought of nothing till we were
seated, and the host took her attention for a moment. Then I looked
across at chum, who was directly opposite,