Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1867-07-24
Generous deed, heroic deed,
Come forth, be respected

In every department, showing by MS con-
scientious application the thorough appre-
citation Of a poor boy, who had worked
his own way up to long-coveted opportu-
mites, but in languages and natural science
he was ali enthusiast. His eager peuchant
toward these branches was the complement
of my own more sober mathematical pro-
clivities, and SO the hours in which we read
became a source of mutual profit
and delight Then, too, the long walks which
L had taken daily, more from duty than
inclination, what new vitality they seemed
to infuse through heart and head when he
came to share them, both as companion OF
the way and interpreter of nature in her
changing moods The thoughts which
others called Old Harper's oddities had
for me an unfailing piquancy and charm,
and by degrees he lost all restraint with
me, and the unique images of his brain
clothed themselves in verbal form and stood
forth not ashamed
One particular Saturday afternoon stroll
through Mount Auburn comes to me very
clearly now, perhaps because then and
there was the beginning of the slender
thread of story, on which [ have thought
to string these scattering "reminiscences OF
my dead friend.
'How quietly they sleep" he said, as
we walked slowly along the shady avenues,
- the shadows of the leaves chasing each
other over the marble, are the only symbol
of unrest. And yet through what depths
of passion and pain, through what laby-
rinths of vain endeavor, they came-as we
all shall come at last-to this" Then
changing the thought with characteristic
suddenness, he went on !: George, when
see the tender grass and clinging MOSES
creeping already over these new graves,
like to fancy that this loving endeavor to
heal and smooth away these scars from the
bosom of earth is something more than a
mere blind prompting of nature. Fasten a
pebble to a sapling, and watch day by day
through every straining fibre the alert eff
fort to raise its weighted head 10 the sun
light again; see the leaves play with the
breeze, or tremble out their indescribable
reply to the soft plash of summer rain ;
look ut the elms tossing their long branch
rs in the fierce excitement of the tempest
does not all this seem like more than
mere insensate Vitality"
He paused moment. then he said with
a half smile,
May | follow my dream still farther,
and charging back all pain upon man, the
prime sinner, say that only such of these
plants as are destroyed by human hands,
for bad purposes, suffer in perishing? If
this lcere true, what must have been the
horror and recoil of the tree,
from whose bleeding trunk was hewn the
cross of the Lord of all p
There was such tremor of earnestnes>
in his voice that | could not smile at the
strange conceit, and we walked silently to-
ward and into the little cemetery chapel.
Another group was there before Us
Mr. and Mrs. Hargrave stood looking at
the statuary, and with them a young lady
whom | thought a stranger at first glance,
but as she turned towards us | recognized
her as Margaret Ware, niece of the Har-
graves. whom | had met when yet n child
one summer at the seaside. Strangely
lovely even in her budding girlhood, these
few years had developed her to almost
matchless perfection. | shall not try to
describe her, for no mere mechanical in
ventory of features could make that radiant
beauty live and breathe before you.
have seen other faces as faultless, but never
one SO vivifed with subtle inner radiance
making one look not at but through it into
the very presence-chambe of the soul.
Mr.. Hargrave stepped forward with g
pleasant greeting. | renewed my acquain
tance with Miss Ware, and presented my
friend. Poor viii was always difhdent
enough, but even | was scarcely prepared
for the vivid crimson that shot over hi:
whole face, and the few stammered word,
that accompanied his awkward bow. | saw
Mrs Hargrave dart a look of involuntary
inquiry at me but if Miss Ware thought
nv friend an uncivilized boor. she was to,
sweetly and truly lady to allow the feel
ing to mirror itself moment in her face
As soon as possible, out of sheer pity,
drew Will away, but | tried vainly t.
engage him in cheerful conversation
Through all our homeward walk he wa
silent and distracted, only recovering
something of his usual manner at parting
\ few days afterward the Harsraves is
sued invitations to a little receipt n, givel
on Miss Wares account Harper, great,
to his own surprise, received a card.
"How strange, GEORGE" he said; "you
know | never spent an evening out in Cam
bridge-or any where else - he added
with half laugh, and one of his quick
girlish bushes.
1t was true enough; the unequal strug
gle with poverty, waged from his earlies
years, had left the shy, country-born yout
] Co. al, hai
been accessible to him.
What shall L do, George? I'm no
fit to CO. What must she" He stoppe
suddenly, his cheek flushing again, the
turning to me quickly, You were miser
ably ashamed of me that day at Noun
Auburn ?"
"Will Harper" L said, you ought t
know me better. You are easily embar
rassed, ] know, but how are you to ovel
come the tendency without accustomin
yourself to company? Go by all means
forget yourself as much as possible-b
natufal-no more is required.
His brow cleared, and l saw that he ha
really wished to 90, and needed only wor
of encouragement to aid his decision.
4 think you are right" he said. "
will try it,
The expected evening came, but throt
bing headache kept me in my room, an
VIII made his debut into Cambridge Gil
cles alone have an indistinct recollet
ton of some days of suffering that followe
of being carried by slow stages to m
country home; then comes long blank
They tell me that lay for weeks at the poir
of death, and I know that rose from m
sick-bed the emaciated shadow of mysel
Months passed before l was strong enoug
to think of resuming my studies. Harpe
+ wrote to me occasionally rambling, afet