The Last of the Flatboats

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER XXXV

  LOOKING FORWARD

  It was on the last night of the voyage that Phil broached the thoughtthat he had been turning over in his mind ever since his talk with therescued Mississippi planter. The journey was practically finished. _TheLast of the Flatboats_ would reach New Orleans about ten o'clock thenext morning. The big round moon illuminated the broad, placid river.Supper was ended. The lights were in their places. There was no water inthe bilge. The day's work was done, and the hardy young fellows werelolling about the deck, talking all sorts of trivial things, when Philintroduced the subject.

  "I say, boys, does it occur to you that we fellows have a splendidopportunity before us if we choose to accept it?"

  "Are you meditating a jump overboard?" asked Irv, "or did you just nowremember the great truth that fills my mind, namely, that there'senough of that beef pie left to make a good midnight supper all round?"

  "No, for once I'm serious, Irv," said Phil, whose new habit ofseriousness had grown upon him with increasing responsibility, until allthe boys observed the change in him with wonder, not unmixed withamusement.

  "All right, then," said Irv; "go ahead. We're 'at attention.'"

  "What is it, Phil?" asked Will Moreraud, seeing that Irv's light chatterannoyed the boy, or at the least distracted his attention. "You'vesomething worth while to say. So we'll listen."

  Phil broke into the middle of his subject.

  "Why shouldn't we fellows all get a college education?" he asked.

  "Our parents aren't able to give it to us," answered Constant.

  "No, but we are able to get it for ourselves," answered Phil. "Thatgentleman up there in Mississippi wanted to help us do it, but I refusedthat offer for the whole party."

  Then he reported the conversation he had had with the planter, and hiscomrades heartily approved his course in refusing assistance.

  "But we can do the thing ourselves," Phil continued. "Let me explain.After we built this flatboat and equipped her and made up a purse forour running expenses, we each had about a hundred dollars of ourpig-iron money left. Since then we have made one thousand dollars apieceout of the Jim Hughes affair. So when we get back home we shall haveeleven hundred dollars apiece to the good, besides whatever we makeclear out of the trip. That ought to be considerably more, but we won'tcount it because it's a chicken that isn't hatched yet. At any rate, itwill more than pay our fares back to Vevay, so when we get home we shallhave eleven or twelve hundred dollars apiece. Now that is plenty to takeus through college."

  "Well, I don't know," said Irv. "I hear of young college men who spendfrom one thousand to five thousand dollars a year."

  "Yes," replied Phil, "and I read in a newspaper the other day of a manwho paid five hundred dollars for a bouquet to give to the girl he wasabout to marry. But we aren't young men with 'liberal allowances' and wearen't bouquet buyers. Listen to me. I have figured it all outcarefully. At many colleges there is no charge at all for tuition. Atothers there are scholarships that can be made to cover tuition. At mostof the colleges in the West and South the tuition fees are very small,even if we must pay them. The principal things we've got to look out forare board, clothes, and books. We can wear the same clothes at collegethat we should wear at home, and our parents will provide them, or ifthey can't, we can earn them during vacations. Our necessary books forthe whole course won't cost us more than fifty or sixty dollars apieceif we work together as I'm going to suggest. That leaves only thequestion of board."

  "Well, board will cost us five dollars a week apiece or two hundred ayear, at any decent boarding-house," said Irv.

  "Of course," answered Phil. "But I propose that we shan't live at anydecent boarding-house."

  "How, then?"

  "Why, you see we're an exceptional lot of young fellows in somerespects. Our classmates in college, when we go there, may know a greatdeal more than we do about many things, and probably they will. But weknow some very valuable things that they do not. We know how to takecare of ourselves. For a good many weeks now we have bought and cookedour own food and washed our own dishes, and even our own clothes. Atcollege we could hire the laundry work done, but why shouldn't we do allthe rest for ourselves?"

  "Go on," cried Irv when Phil paused. "I for one am interested, and it'sobvious you've thought out the whole thing, Phil. Tell us all about yourplan."

  Phil hesitated a little, abashed by the approval and admiration which heeasily detected in Irv's eager tone and in the faces of his comrades. Atlast he resumed:--

  "Well, you see, we five fellows not only know how to cook and all thatsort of thing, but we know how to live together without quarrelling, andhow to work together for a common purpose. Why shouldn't we go to somecollege where there are no tuition fees, or very small ones, hire tworooms, one to cook and eat in, and the other to sleep in, buy the ten ortwenty dollars' worth of plain furniture necessary, and board ourselvesjust as we are doing now?"

  The other boys paused, interested in the idea. Presently Constantasked:--

  "How much apiece do you reckon the cost of board to be?"

  "I haven't figured it out in detail," said Phil. "I've left that for Edto do. You remember he made a calculation away up the river as to howmuch it costs to feed a man for a year."

  "Yes," said Ed, speaking the word slowly as if thinking; "but thatcalculation hardly fits the case. It related to a single person, and weare five persons. We can live more cheaply together than five personscould live separately. Besides, that calculation up the river was madeon a guess-work basis. It is very much better to base the calculation onfacts, and fortunately I have the facts."

  "What?" "Where did you get them?" These and like exclamations greetedEd's announcement.

  "Well, you see," said Ed, "I have been keeping accounts in order to findout what it has cost us just to live on this voyage. I've set down theexact cost of everything we started with and everything we have boughtsince, including the two cords of wood we bought for the cooking-stove,and which we haven't used up yet. I'll figure the thing up and tell youexactly what it will cost us to board ourselves at college, provided weare willing to live as plainly there as we do on this boat."

  "Why not?" called out Irv. "We've lived like fighting cocks all the waydown the river--except that we've run out of milk pretty often."

  "Do fighting cocks consume large quantities of milk, Irv?" asked Phil.

  "No, of course not. You know what I mean. I'm satisfied to live incollege precisely as we have lived on the flatboat, and if I drink moremilk, I suppose I shall make it up by eating just so much less of otherthings."

  "Do you hear that, boys?" called out Constant. "Irv agrees that if we goto college together he'll eat one pancake less for every extra glass ofmilk he drinks. Remember that. We shall hold him rigidly to hisbargain."

  By this time Ed, who had gone to the forward lantern to do hisfiguring,--for one really cannot "see to read" by even the brightestmoonlight, as people often say and think they can,--was ready to reportresults. He said:--

  "Counting in everything we have bought to eat, and everything that theCincinnati banker gave us at Memphis, and the cost of our fuel, I findthat it has cost us for our table, precisely $3.98 per week, as anaverage, since the day we left Vevay to drop down to Craig's Landing.Let us say $4.00. That's 80 cents apiece per week, for we won't reckonJim Hughes's board. The college year is forty weeks, or a little less.At 80 cents a week apiece, we can feed ourselves on $32 a year each, oronly $128 each for the whole four years' course."

  "Good," said Phil, "now let's figure a little." With that he went to thelight and made some calculations. On his return he said, "I reckon itthis way:--

  Rent $10 a year for each, or for the course $40 Board for each, $32 a year, or for the course 128 Fuel, lights, and incidentals--say for each 40 Tuition, if we have to pay it, for each 100

  or a grand total of $308 apiece for the whole course. For safety, and tocover miscalculations and accidents and il
lness and all the rest of it,let's just double the figures. That gives us a total possible expenseof $616, or just about one-half the money that each of us has in hand,and that we ought to be ready to spend to make the best men we can outof ourselves."

  "Boys!" said Will Moreraud, rising in his enthusiasm, "I move thisresolution right here and now:--

  "'Resolved, that Phil Lowry is a brick! Resolved, that we five fellowsshall go together to a college of Phil Lowry's selection, live in theeconomical way he suggests, and so diligently do our work as to take allthe honors there are going in that college, and astonish the fellowswhose education has not included a flatboat experience in the art oftaking care of oneself.'"

  The resolution was adopted without dissent. Then Phil had something moreto say:--

  "Now, fellows, I'm a good way behind the rest of you in some of mystudies. I'm younger than you--but that's no matter. I'll not 'plead thebaby act,' anyhow. All of you can easily prepare yourselves for collegebetween now and next fall. You probably don't believe it, but so can I,and so I will. I have never set myself to study in earnest. I'm goingto do it now. When we get home, I'll bring to bear all that 'obstinatepertinacity' that you and Mrs. Dupont credit me with or blame mefor--whichever way you choose to put it. If I don't pass entranceexaminations next fall with the best of you, you can count my share ofthe money as a voluntary contribution to the expenses of the mess. Butyou'd better not count on it in that way, I warn you."

  "Of course we hadn't," said Irv Strong, as Phil went below to look afterthings. "I've got a great, big, rosy-cheeked, candy apple at home,and I'll wager it against the insignificant head of any fellow in theparty--yours included, Ed--that when we five fellows present ourselvesfor our entrance examinations next fall, Phil Lowry will knock the spotsout of every one of us."

  "You expect too much of him, Irv," said Ed. "It isn't fair. He's from ayear to two years behind us, and he is the youngest and most immature inthe party."

  "Is he?" asked Irv, with challenge in his voice. "He may have been sowhen we left Vevay, but he isn't now. He's the oldest of us now and themost mature among us. You saw how he managed things in the woods, andhow he handled Jim Hughes, and how he managed the difficult problem ofthe tarpaulin, and all the rest of it. I tell you, Ed, that, while PhilLowry was much the youngest boy in this company when we made him 'IT'for this voyage, he is several years older to-day than any of us. He maybe a class behind some of you fellows in mere book work, but he won'tstay so long. I'll tell you what, Ed, you'll have to stir all yourstumps to keep up with that fellow in college. He has got his mettle upnow."

  "I believe that is so," said Ed, thinking, and speaking slowly. "Ihadn't thought of it, Irv, but Phil has developed in his mindsurprisingly during this voyage."

  "So much so," replied Irv, "that nobody in this crew is his equal whenit comes to real, hard, clear-headed thinking."

  "That is so," said Ed, reflectively; "but in book study he is behind allof us because he is younger. He says he'll catch up and--"

  "And we now know him too well to doubt that he will do all that hesays," broke in Will Moreraud, whose admiration for Phil had grown dayby day until now it scarcely knew any bounds. "But I say, fellows,"continued Will, "we've got to help Phil catch up. For that matter, thereisn't one of us that hasn't a lame duck of some sort. Even you, Ed--"

  "Don't say 'even' me," said Ed. "I'm in fact the worst of the lot. I'vegone ahead of you fellows,--in my irregular fashion, of course,--butI've skipped a lot of things, and I've got to bring them up before I canpass my examinations for college."

  "That's all right," said Will, who was now enthusiastic. "Why shouldn'twe fellows form a 'study club' this fall, and work together? Of coursethe high school won't and can't prepare us for college by next year. Butwe can and will prepare ourselves; and now that Mrs. Dupont is out ofthe regular teaching harness, she'll be delighted to help us. She willbe in a positive ecstasy when she finds that five of 'her boys' haveundertaken a job of this kind. By the way, let us stand up and bow lowto Mrs. Dupont--the best and most loving teacher that any set of boysever had or ever will have in this world!"

  The obeisance to their teacher was made, and Will's idea of a "studyclub" was resolved upon. The idea, as developed, was to do much more ina year than the school course marked out, especially to help Philforward to the level of his fellows, and to help Ed repair thedeficiencies that lay back of his irregular attainments. For Ed was nowso robust that neither he nor any of his comrades thought of him as aninvalid. Instead of spending the winter in the South, as he hadintended, Ed had made up his mind to go back with the others, to jointhem in their "study club," and to be one of the five when they shouldenter college.

  It was long past midnight when this conversation was over. And themorning had active duties for the crew of _The Last of the Flatboats_ todo.