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"
Hold
up
,
Amory
.
That
's
too
darned
gloomy
.
How
about
yourself
?
"
"
I
'm
in
a
superior
class
.
You
are
,
too
.
We
're
philosophers
.
"
"
I
'm
not
.
"
"
Sure
you
are
.
You
've
got
a
darn
good
head
on
you
.
"
But
Amory
knew
that
nothing
in
the
abstract
,
no
theory
or
generality
,
ever
moved
Rahill
until
he
stubbed
his
toe
upon
the
concrete
minutiae
of
it
.
"
Have
n't
,
"
insisted
Rahill
.
"
I
let
people
impose
on
me
here
and
do
n't
get
anything
out
of
it
.
I
'm
the
prey
of
my
friends
,
damn
it
--
do
their
lessons
,
get
'em
out
of
trouble
,
pay
'em
stupid
summer
visits
,
and
always
entertain
their
kid
sisters
;
keep
my
temper
when
they
get
selfish
and
then
they
think
they
pay
me
back
by
voting
for
me
and
telling
me
I
'm
the
'
big
man
'
of
St.
Regis
's
.
I
want
to
get
where
everybody
does
their
own
work
and
I
can
tell
people
where
to
go
.
I
'm
tired
of
being
nice
to
every
poor
fish
in
school
.
"
"
You
're
not
a
slicker
,
"
said
Amory
suddenly
.
"
A
what
?
"
"
A
slicker
.
"
"
What
the
devil
's
that
?
"
"
Well
,
it
's
something
that
--
that
--
there
's
a
lot
of
them
.
You
're
not
one
,
and
neither
am
I
,
though
I
am
more
than
you
are
.
"
