Institute week, and living over that crowded and epochal time.

Marty, scouting around for something to do, had discovered that he could
get work, such as it was, for ten hours a week, anyway, and maybe more,
at thirty to fifty cents an hour. He had a little money left after
paying his tuition, and the college registrar assured him that the loan
from the Board of Education would be forthcoming. Therefore the talk
turned on money.

"That tuition bill sure reduced the swelling in my pocketbook, Marty,"
remarked J.W., as he examined his visible resources.

"What do you think it did to mine?" Marty observed quietly. "I'm still
giddy from being relieved of so much money in one operation. And yet I
can't see how they get along. Look at the big faculty they have, and all
these buildings to keep up and keep going. When I think of how big a
dollar seems to me, the tuition looks like the national debt of Mexico;
but when I try to figure out how much it costs the college per student,
I feel as though I were paying lunch-counter prices for a dining-car
dinner. How _do_ they do it, J.W.?"

"Who told you I was to be looked on in the light of a World Almanac, my
son? I could give you the answer to that question without getting out of
my chair, but for one small difficulty--I just don't know. Tell you
what--it's a good question--let's look in the catalogue. I'd like to
find information in that volume about something besides the four
centuries of study that loom before my freshman eyes."

So they looked in the catalogue and discovered that Cartwright College
had an endowment of $1,750,000, producing an income of about $80,000 a