BOB STEVENS walked part way home from school with me the next afternoon. "What are you taking algebra for?" he asked, snapping his thumb and finger against my book.
"Why, because I like it;—and then it's necessary for geometry, and that sort of thing. You know I'm going to be a civil engineer."
"Algebra hasn't any sense to it," said Bob.
"Well, indeed it has," I said. "If you just use your thinking apparatus along with it, it's just as plain and reasonable as can be."
Bob sniffed. "You think it sounds big to say you're taking algebra; and of course you have to say you understand it. I don't believe that any one understands it;—it's just a jumble of letters and figures that haven't a speck of meaning to them;—and it says one thing on one page, and then turns around and says something exactly opposite on the next one. I know, because I've read it; and it's what some of the other boys say, too."
