The Sierra citizen., 1854-04-01
For the Sierra Caisen.]
The Students Death.
A SKETCH By 3. B.


Beware of George Barnette," said my
teacher-who was minister also--to me
at our last interview, before my depar ure
for certain Western College. beware
of George Barnette, ne will be All unproita-
bic companion for YOU "Indeed, Mr..
Jones, y replied "George and l used to be
great playtellows when we were little boys,
and l was hoping to find him as pleasant
now Mr.. Jones went on to tell me that
George was an excellent student, and pos
sess.d great deal too much influence
among his fellows, seeing that he was
an hfiel!" | believe it made me shudler.
"iom, my old playmate-how are you !?
Give fellow your hand! Don't you
know George? All this was said in d
cheery voice, by the handsomest young
sophomore one ever looked at, whileI was
buyiny class books few weeks after the
reception Of the above warning, prepara-
tory to my next days appearance as
Fl snman in - Colleg'. The warning
VAS forgotten in the food cfboyish memt-
re, which rushed in upon my heart at the
81 .sht of his fine face, and the sound of his
kindly greeting. We were both happy
in a moment. But when, an hour after,
the first rushing tide of boyish friendship
mad somewhat subsid .d--that warning
occurred to me-"Baware, he is an In6del. .
| looked on him little sadly, wondering
that it could beso.
Being year in advance of me, and
being occupied with the many little things
of Importance to student at the begin
lny OF "a term, George was but little with
me for fortnight, although he found time
to render me many little service, owing
to his better acquaintance with college
Ways. 1t was easy to see that he was a
favorite; and felt that the patronizing
mods which even the seniors gave me occa-
sionally. were rather offerings to the merit
of my friend George. than evidences of the
politeness Of the said seniors. Many times,
a, little prvofs of his popularity presented
themselves, would feel sad to tnink--he
S an Inidel.
"rom, you sleepy-head-wake up, will
you!' said George, one morning by my
bedside. "Here is your first college honor
said he, before my eyes were fairly open,
and away he ran again, having left paper
on my bed. 1t was from the Secretary
of the Society Of Phi Delta, containing
due notice Of my election TO membership
upon the recommendation OF George
Blrnette. Four weeks afterwards, in an
attic Of the Chapel building. met with
the brothers of the society for the FIRST
time. There was lecture-short, from
a senior, denouncing bigotry in most
OigOted style. And then. at the call Of
Essays by the chair. rose George, very
modestly. and in his inilnitably kind voice
h. began: "What can we know Of God,
OF Life OF Truth, what can we know -,
| listened to every word; SO we'll did
hear 1t, that now it would be easier to
write the essay than to write anything
else. Its conclusion was that religion,
such as God approves, is not matter of
opinion, but OF feeling and of action. 1t
all sounded to me better than most SER
mons; kind as mothers love-aEd true
as the pulses of mans own heart. An
infisl? thought l. =
It was Ca. m summer night; the m ION
shone gently, and the stars glistened almost
as brightly as if there had been no moon
in the heavens. The long BLUEGRASS Of
the college lawn had just been mown, and
the air was laden with the delicate fra
GRANGE it was brea' hing, as its last contri-
button to the worlds loveliness.
George Barnette was standing near where
class-mate of his own-Henry B. and
myself were lying on the grass; his head
was bare. and his dark hair was wet with
dew. "Yes," he said, in reply to a careless
remark of mine, I'VE have graduated =
schoo!-time is over-now for living !"
had learned him well then, and had often
wished thai l might become su-a an
inndei as he was. And I knew that the
iiie 70 which he aspired was one of IN.
ceas'ng effort for the sake Of what he sup.
Possd 70 De truth. somehow it happened
that we rose to go to our rooms Just then
without speaking, and as We nesred the