Chapter X - Page 2

Sunday he had intended to devote to studying for the high school
examination, but the pearl-diving article lured him away, and he
spent the day in the white-hot fever of re-creating the beauty and
romance that burned in him. The fact that the EXAMINER of that
morning had failed to publish his treasure-hunting article did not
dash his spirits. He was at too great a height for that, and
having been deaf to a twice-repeated summons, he went without the
heavy Sunday dinner with which Mr. Higginbotham invariably graced
his table. To Mr. Higginbotham such a dinner was advertisement of
his worldly achievement and prosperity, and he honored it by
delivering platitudinous sermonettes upon American institutions and
the opportunity said institutions gave to any hard-working man to
rise - the rise, in his case, which he pointed out unfailingly,
being from a grocer's clerk to the ownership of Higginbotham's Cash
Store.

Martin Eden looked with a sigh at his unfinished "Pearl-diving" on
Monday morning, and took the car down to Oakland to the high
school. And when, days later, he applied for the results of his
examinations, he learned that he had failed in everything save
grammar.

"Your grammar is excellent," Professor Hilton informed him, staring
at him through heavy spectacles; "but you know nothing, positively
nothing, in the other branches, and your United States history is
abominable - there is no other word for it, abominable. I should
advise you - "

Professor Hilton paused and glared at him, unsympathetic and
unimaginative as one of his own test-tubes. He was professor of
physics in the high school, possessor of a large family, a meagre
salary, and a select fund of parrot-learned knowledge.

"Yes, sir," Martin said humbly, wishing somehow that the man at the
desk in the library was in Professor Hilton's place just then.

"And I should advise you to go back to the grammar school for at
least two years. Good day."

Martin was not deeply affected by his failure, though he was
surprised at Ruth's shocked expression when he told her Professor
Hilton's advice. Her disappointment was so evident that he was
sorry he had failed, but chiefly so for her sake.

"You see I was right," she said. "You know far more than any of
the students entering high school, and yet you can't pass the
examinations. It is because what education you have is
fragmentary, sketchy. You need the discipline of study, such as
only skilled teachers can give you. You must be thoroughly
grounded. Professor Hilton is right, and if I were you, I'd go to
night school. A year and a half of it might enable you to catch up
that additional six months. Besides, that would leave you your
days in which