Young Men I Have Met
by J. M. Barrie
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: Originally serialised in the Young Man Magazine between January and November 1890, Young Men I Have Met is Barrie’s humorous take on a variety of types.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Originally serialised in the Young Man Magazine between January and November 1890, Young Men I Have Met is Barrie’s humorous take on a variety of types.
Episode Six – The Dreamer
No young man of my acquaintance has such prodigious schemes for self-culture as Cuthbertson. He is so full of them that they would wrinkle his face were he not so hopeful about them that he is eternally smiling. Yet, so far as I am aware, none of them has ever come off. This is because they are all and always to be carried out next season. ‘The Summer is the time for physical recreation,’ Cuthbertson says, but once winter comes he is to settle to work. Then, by the time he has his pencil sharpened, winter is half over, and he thinks he may as well begin with summer. When Cuthbertson takes me into his confidence about these schemes of his, I am quite carried away, and I believe he really would work some of them out, if the summer was longer, or the winter were not so short.
Every next summer Cuthbertson is to take to botany, or geology, or swimming, or the concertina. Every next winter he is to go through a hard course of reading. You who do not know him cannot realise how extensive are Cuthbertson’s preparations for next season’s work. He does not say in winter, ‘Next summer I shall spend warm evenings in the fields and by the hedgerows, on the mountain sides and by running brooks, with a work on botany in my hand,’ and then put the matter from his mind pro tem, as classical scholars say. No. Cuthbertson’s motto is ‘Thorough’, and his nature is enthusiastic. He orders of booksellers the best works on botany; he consults botanists on the best way of studying botany; he arranges to take his summer holiday where rare plants grow; and he buys a large exercise book on which he prints his name in three colours of ink. On the first page of this book he writes carefully: ‘Summer Study, 1898 –Botany. Part 1. By the Wayside. Walk 1.’ Everything is thus prepared for the advent of summer, but somehow or other (to use a favourite phrase of Cuthbertson’s) the botanical studies never come off. Summer wears on, botany shoots down the horizon, and Cuthbertson is all aglow with preparations for the winter. The winter exercise book has also his name in three colours. On the first page we may read: ‘Winter Study, 1898-9 – Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays – the Feudal System; Tuesdays and Thursdays - English Literature. Part 1, from Piers the Plowman to the death of Chaucer’. There does Cuthbertson stick. January finds him plotting Summer Study, 1889: British Birds. Part 1. The Sparrow. The last time I saw him was in August and he had just completed arrangements for Winter Study 1890-91: The Legislative Systems of the World. Part 1. The British House of Commons.
Scores of books for young men are published yearly, and I see them recommended by the papers, so I suppose they are good books. But, like Cuthbertson, I never read them, though for a different reason. Cuthbertson means to read them, and he has such a collection of them in his bookcase as would make model young men (or prigs) of quite a large Debating Society if he would sell them at half-price. When Cuthbertson, on the hunt for books that will assist him in next season’s work, reads that ‘the Pipe which Kills’ should be in the hands of all young men, and that ‘Never be out after Nine o’clock’ costs a shilling, and is worth eighteenpence, he orders these works at once, and he is to read them next season on Tuesdays and Fridays (see note book). I have said that he might sell them to a Debating Society at half price. They would be cheap, for none of them is thumb-marked. They are all cut, however, he cuts them to be ready for the first day of the reading season.
You must not imagine that, because Cuthbertson is so occupied with schemes of mental improvement, he forgets to nourish the body. Books are excellent things, he will tell you (in summer) but football and skating should also have their place. His corresponding remark for winter is that Botany is a charming and entrancing study, but must not be allowed to make one neglect his angling and cricket. I don’t think Cuthbertson ever does fish, but his rods and hooks have been ready since October, 1887, and in May of this present year, I found him giving his skates a polish. Next summer his game is to be golf. He has several putters and drivers, and has joined the local club so that when summer comes he need waste no time in beginning. Next summer, indeed, is to be one of his busiest, for he is also to take lessons on the violin on Thursdays and Fridays and to devote Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays to Gardening as a Fine Art. But he is to take things quietly, I understand, during the winter.
No young man of my acquaintance has such prodigious schemes for self-culture as Cuthbertson. He is so full of them that they would wrinkle his face were he not so hopeful about them that he is eternally smiling. Yet, so far as I am aware, none of them has ever come off. This is because they are all and always to be carried out next season. ‘The Summer is the time for physical recreation,’ Cuthbertson says, but once winter comes he is to settle to work. Then, by the time he has his pencil sharpened, winter is half over, and he thinks he may as well begin with summer. When Cuthbertson takes me into his confidence about these schemes of his, I am quite carried away, and I believe he really would work some of them out, if the summer was longer, or the winter were not so short.
Every next summer Cuthbertson is to take to botany, or geology, or swimming, or the concertina. Every next winter he is to go through a hard course of reading. You who do not know him cannot realise how extensive are Cuthbertson’s preparations for next season’s work. He does not say in winter, ‘Next summer I shall spend warm evenings in the fields and by the hedgerows, on the mountain sides and by running brooks, with a work on botany in my hand,’ and then put the matter from his mind pro tem, as classical scholars say. No. Cuthbertson’s motto is ‘Thorough’, and his nature is enthusiastic. He orders of booksellers the best works on botany; he consults botanists on the best way of studying botany; he arranges to take his summer holiday where rare plants grow; and he buys a large exercise book on which he prints his name in three colours of ink. On the first page of this book he writes carefully: ‘Summer Study, 1898 –Botany. Part 1. By the Wayside. Walk 1.’ Everything is thus prepared for the advent of summer, but somehow or other (to use a favourite phrase of Cuthbertson’s) the botanical studies never come off. Summer wears on, botany shoots down the horizon, and Cuthbertson is all aglow with preparations for the winter. The winter exercise book has also his name in three colours. On the first page we may read: ‘Winter Study, 1898-9 – Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays – the Feudal System; Tuesdays and Thursdays - English Literature. Part 1, from Piers the Plowman to the death of Chaucer’. There does Cuthbertson stick. January finds him plotting Summer Study, 1889: British Birds. Part 1. The Sparrow. The last time I saw him was in August and he had just completed arrangements for Winter Study 1890-91: The Legislative Systems of the World. Part 1. The British House of Commons.
Scores of books for young men are published yearly, and I see them recommended by the papers, so I suppose they are good books. But, like Cuthbertson, I never read them, though for a different reason. Cuthbertson means to read them, and he has such a collection of them in his bookcase as would make model young men (or prigs) of quite a large Debating Society if he would sell them at half-price. When Cuthbertson, on the hunt for books that will assist him in next season’s work, reads that ‘the Pipe which Kills’ should be in the hands of all young men, and that ‘Never be out after Nine o’clock’ costs a shilling, and is worth eighteenpence, he orders these works at once, and he is to read them next season on Tuesdays and Fridays (see note book). I have said that he might sell them to a Debating Society at half price. They would be cheap, for none of them is thumb-marked. They are all cut, however, he cuts them to be ready for the first day of the reading season.
You must not imagine that, because Cuthbertson is so occupied with schemes of mental improvement, he forgets to nourish the body. Books are excellent things, he will tell you (in summer) but football and skating should also have their place. His corresponding remark for winter is that Botany is a charming and entrancing study, but must not be allowed to make one neglect his angling and cricket. I don’t think Cuthbertson ever does fish, but his rods and hooks have been ready since October, 1887, and in May of this present year, I found him giving his skates a polish. Next summer his game is to be golf. He has several putters and drivers, and has joined the local club so that when summer comes he need waste no time in beginning. Next summer, indeed, is to be one of his busiest, for he is also to take lessons on the violin on Thursdays and Fridays and to devote Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays to Gardening as a Fine Art. But he is to take things quietly, I understand, during the winter.
About the Author
J. M. Barrie (1860-1937) is of course best known for his play Peter Pan. As well as being a dramatist, he was famous in his own day for fiction. A graduate of Edinburgh University, he cut his teeth in journalism in Nottingham and London. Find out more about him at the unco online bookstore.