THE STEADFAST HEART
Woodhouse, who sighed and said, “So that was the way of it?… So that was it?…”
Craig nodded.
“He doesn’t go to school?”
“We tried to send him. Public opinion won’t allow it. There was a tremendous stir.”
“You’ve been teaching him?”
“Dave and I—and Mary Trueman.”
“How has he progressed?”
“For a time it was slow; his brain seemed stiff, rusted from lack of use—but even in the beginning a thing once mastered never had to be told him again. Now, while he must plod and sweat, he acquires more readily than many normal boys. And he’s tenacious. Once he starts after a problem he has no idea of how to give up. That, I should say, was almost his salient characteristic—that he doesn’t know how to quit.”
“He ought to go to school.”
“It’s impossible to send him here. You have no idea how the town feels toward him…. I’ve seen it in the case of grown men and women, but never before have I seen a community in concentrated effort to drive out a child.”
Henry G. nodded understandingly. “I know. I know the folks…. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to send him away to some school where
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