Chapter 4

Boston, Massachusetts, USA, 1878

He wasn’t supposed to be eavesdropping. Proper young men didn’t do such things. And yet, as the voice of his tutor, Mr. Nicklebee, echoed down the hallway, James couldn’t help but pause his studies to see if he might overhear.

From the sound of it, Mr. Nicklebee had arranged to meet with his father, Dr. Wallace Joplin, in advance, or else there was no way his father would be home from his office this early. It wasn’t even 3:00 in the afternoon yet. Perhaps, Mr. Nicklebee thought James needed some sort of remediation, and he wasn’t able to provide it himself. If that was the case, it had to be in Latin. Even now, with his book open before him, he was having the hardest time conjugating the verbs on the list Mr. Nicklebee had given him. He hoped his father wouldn’t be too disappointed, though, he wouldn’t blame if he were. What sort of a medical doctor didn’t know his Latin?

The voices moved past pleasantries, and then he heard Mr. Nicklebee say, “Well, sir, let me get right to the point.” James stilled himself against the inevitable bad news. “James is excelling in every subject I present to him, far beyond any of the other dozen or so pupils I’ve ever worked with. I know that you and Mrs. Joplin have decided against sending him to boarding school for various reasons, and I must say, that was quite innovative of you, in fact. As it turns out, I feel that James would’ve been quite miserable in boarding school.”

“How’s that now?” James heard his father’s voice, much quieter but still audible, reply. “You say you think he’s quite bright, but we were insightful not to put him in boarding school?”

“Yes, indeed.” Mr. Nicklebee must’ve readjusted in his chair as there was a shrieking noise of wood on wood. “Dr. Joplin, I believe James would be quite frustrated should he be forced to study on the same level as his peers. As you know, I’ve extended his studies well beyond what a typical ten-year-old should be learning. Even at that, he excels, particularly in science, but truly in all subjects. We are nearly to a point where I am running out of material that can challenge him.”

There was silence for a moment as Dr. Joplin likely mulled over that information. James knew his father well; he was a man of science if there ever was one. He would require some sort of evidence that what Mr. Nicklebee claimed was true. James knew it had to be a farce, a way for Nicklebee to get out of being his tutor any longer. He had thought they were getting along smashingly, but there must have been some sort of discontent for him to make up such outlandish claims. Certainly, James was aware that, in certain subjects, he did quite well, but not in all of them, most especially not in Latin. Even math was a challenge for him. He had no idea how to calculate square roots, and he hadn’t done well on his last calculus exam. Mr. Nicklebee must just be looking to find a new employer.

After several moments, Dr. Joplin said, “What do you suggest we do then, sir?”

James was shocked? Wouldn’t his father question the logic behind the tutor’s assertions? Or perhaps he thought it was best if Mr. Nicklebee went on his way.

“Well, Doctor, if I may, I believe the best place for young James is… Harvard.”

“Harvard?” Dr. Joplin repeated, and James felt his stomach lurch up into his throat. Had the man truly said Harvard? As in the university? Mr. Nicklebee must be completely out of his mind. He was only a boy of ten! How could he possibly go to a university? Perhaps he meant in the future….

As if they were of the same mind, Dr. Joplin said, “Surely, you don’t mean just now. He’s only a boy.”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Nicklebee confirmed the obvious. “But… he can certainly handle the academic portion. It might be difficult for him, being amongst young men almost half again in age, but if he were able to live at home and attend, that might work sufficiently, don’t you think? I also believe he would do quite well as an apprentice to you in your doctor’s office, even at the hospital. He’s got quite the aptitude for science. He should make a good pair of extra hands for you.”

The silence was drawn out once again, and James couldn’t believe his father was actually pondering the possibility of seeing about sending him to Harvard when he’d only just mastered riding a bicycle the year before. He still cried when his ugly sister Largey Margie teased him. How could he ever survive at one of the most prestigious universities in the world?

“Well, Mr. Nicklebee, you’ve certainly given us something to think about,” Dr. Joplin said in his matter-of-fact tone. “Let me discuss the matter with his mother and think it over some. Honestly, I’m not even sure he’d be admitted to Harvard. I know a few of the board members….”

“As do I, and the head of admissions. I’m quite certain that once young James demonstrates his knowledge and skills, they will take him. Dr. Joplin, I believe James is very much capable of finishing up medical school in the same amount of time it takes most men to finish preparatory school. He is… a genius.”

After another pause, the irritating noise of wood on wood returned, and James envisioned his father rising from his seat behind his desk in the study next door, extending his hand to his tutor. “Thank you very much for your insight, sir,” Dr. Joplin said, right on cue.

“Yes, of course,” replied Mr. Nicklebee. “Now, I shall just go see how those Latin verbs are coming along.”

There was a chance Mr. Nicklebee might change his tune once he saw that James had failed to learn even one conjugate while he was away. Quickly, he returned his eyes to the book before him, praying that some of it had sunk in. He would hate to be the youngest person ever expelled from Harvard for being the biggest dunce.