“Bradford is making a great Mistake,” said Otis, as he saw his Friend tear from the Institution of Learning.  “In order to get a few worldly Chattels right at the jump, he sacrifices his Diploma.  I shall be more Foxy.  I shall go right on through the High School and then I shall attend College and get a Degree.  When I have taken my Degree then I will be the human It.  My scholarly Attainments and polished Manner will get me past the Door and into the Inner Circle of the Hot Potatoes.  As for Bradford, although it is possible that he shall have combed up a little Currency he will be a mere ordinary, sordid Business Man—­not one-two-seven when he tries to stack up against one who has just been delivered of a Thesis on the Correlated Phenomena of Unconscious Cerebration.”

While Brad was out in the back Townships short-changing the Farmers and buying 8 per cent.  Mortgages, Otis was working his way through College and living on Oatmeal except on Holidays and then Prunes.  He was getting round-shouldered and wore Specs and was all gaunted up, but he never weakened.  He was pulling for the Laurel Wreath of Scholarship, or in other words, the Degree.  After humping it for 4 years he passed his final Exam and the Faculty decided that he was a Bachelor of Arts.

That was the Day when he had the Laugh on Brad.

In the meantime, Bradford had been choking various People and taking it away from them.  He had four Salesmen under him and had butted into the Firm, but he was still shy on Botany.

Inasmuch as Otis had been one of the brightest Men in his Class he was offered a position as Instructor in the College at a Salary of $55 a Month with a promise of $5 raise at the end of five Years, if he lived.  Otis accepted, because the Outside World did not seem to be clamoring for his Services, even though he was an Authority on the Mezozoic Period and knew all the Diatomes by their First Names.

[Illustration:  M.A.]

Often while he was burning the Midnight Oil and grinding out Jaw-Breakers, so as to qualify for the Master’s Degree, he reflected as follows:  “It is true that Brad is making it Hand over Fist and wears $6 Shirts and rides in a State-Room on the Pullman, but he is not a Bachelor of Arts.  And some day when he is a Multi-Millionaire I can still look down on him, for then I shall be a Master of Arts.  I have known since Childhood that Education is more desirable than Paltry Gold.  Although the Newspapers and the General Public do not seem to be with me to any Extent, it is better to hob-nob with the Binomial Theorem than to dally with the Champagne Supper.”

In due time the Faculty gave the Degree of M.A. to what was left of
Otis and still his Ambition was not satisfied.  He wanted to land a
Doctor’s Degree.  He knew that any one who aspired to this Eminent
Honor had to be a Pippin.  But he hoped that he could make some
Contribution to the World of Thought that would jar the whole
Educational System and help him to climb to the topmost Pinnacle of
Human Greatness.