Chapter 13 — College Visitor
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n the first day of Christmas vacation, Assistant Headmaster George Hanshaw, squinting into the low afternoon sun, made his way along the boardwalk toward the office of Seth Hallberg, Director of College Admission. The river was a hard, metallic blue under a hard sky. George stopped to watch a fleet of ice cakes floating upstream against the wind on the flood tide. At the door, he stamped the snow off his Bean boots, shucked his coat, and scaled his hat at a hook, where, to the mutual astonishment and admiration of the Assistant Headmaster and the Director of College Admissions, it hung swinging. “You’re a winner, George.” “I’ve been practicing.” George tilted his chair against the wall in a quite uncharacteristic pose. The usual white shirt, plain tie, and conservative tweed jacket had given place to a light wool shirt and corduroy pants. Vacation had indeed arrived. “How many early decision winners, Seth? How are we doing?” “About a quarter of the class under cover, the easy ones.” He reached for a paper on the corner of the desk. “About the same as last year but not quite such a strong class. Verbal score runs about 10 points lower and there’s a few clunkers on the bottom of the pile. Want to do it alphabetically?” “OK.” Here’s Arrundale; applied to Yale, Princeton, Williams, Bowdoin, Amherst. Scores 520 and 580. Grades B’s and C’s. Doesn’t have a chance. Principal recommendation is a serene overconfidence.” “What are you going to do with him?” “He’ll come down. We’ll let him hear some bad news and then maybe I can sell him on Lake Seneca U. or St. Jerome’s. They ought to take him. We’ll take a look at his mid-year grades. “Brinker is next. He’s into Dartherst early decision. No problem there. Good grades, good scores, and a left-handed pitcher. He could go anywhere he wanted. “Burroughs. Tough case. Doesn’t do himself justice. He has good scores, mid 600’s, but his grades are mediocre at best: an A, a B, and three C’s, and the C’s are in Math, French, and English.” “What’s the A in?” “Bio.” “That’s a tough course.” “Sure it is, and Burroughs is not stupid. But he’s going to take a dive in Bio because he needs the math to do the second semester and he’s not learning it.” “How about some K.I.P.?” “I’ve given him a good shot of it without noticeable results. You better tip off his folks.” “I’ll get it in the comment.” The conference waded on down the alphabet. “How about Sam Reed?” “He’ll be all right in April. Good kid. High 500 scores. B’s in Algebra II and Physics. C’s in History and English. Varsity football, second string hockey goalie, crew. On the newspaper. Applied to Dartherst, several Ivies, and Syracuse. I’ll get him to hedge it with something west.” “Washington in St Louis?” “Well . . . yes. But something a little easier too. He’ll be all right on April 15.” “Joe Rotch got a prayer? I’d like to see him make something good.” 60
