Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1868-07-01
THE SCHOOLMATES.

rALE oF PASSION AND REVENGE.
Jacobs father was dead and his mother
was poor, poorer than poverty in fact, for she
had herself and Jacob and little Nan to sup
port, and Nan was a cripple, never had walk
ed step in seven years, that is to say, ever
since she was born. Jacob was twelve, and
good stout slip of boy at that. In the win
ter he went TO school, and in the summer he
picked up stones and worked in Eugene Nale's
fathers's garden Squire Vale they called
him, not that he was squire, but because
poor folks seem to think they can't put rich
man high enough over their own heads with
out giving him some sort of title to step up
on. At least, that's what Jacob Billings used
to say, but Jacob didn't like rich folks and
he had a spiteful sort of way of talking about
them. Above all, Jacob didn't like the
squire, and as for Eugene, it wouldn't be too
much to say he hated him. To be sure, Eu-
gene was rather set up in his ways, and rather
careless about hurting poor peoples feelings,
and when he was angry, said good many
things he was sorry for afterward, and Jacob
never forgot anything that offended or hurt
him. So the two boys did not get on very
well together especially the winter they were
both twelve years old, and went together to
the district school, twas Eugenes last term
for the next fall he was to 60 to a boarding
school to be fitted for college.
College indeed Didn't that make Jacob
rave? Why shouldn't he 60 to college as
well as Eugene, who didn't know halfas much
said he, and went on so that his poor mother
,r,nI ,,I NJ, tnil hin, ka tpnu n xrtal al knVs
and she didn't love him, which made matters
worse, for il there was anything in the world
Jacob loved better than all else, it was poor,
pale, pretty little Nan, his crippled sister.
1t was the very next day after this scene
that the end of the whole matter arrived in
this way. Both boys stayed at noon, and so
in fact did almost the whole school except the
teacher, more's the pity Well, some dispute
arose, and Eugene and jacob took different
sides as they almost always did, and at last
forgot what they had begun to dispute about,
and took to calling each other names, and
saying all the provoking things they could
think of, until at last Jacob said Eugene was
stuck-up fool and Eugene said Jacob was
sneak and beggar To this Jacob replied
that the other lied, for he never had begged a
! cent WOIil III MS lllcs W NulCu Tt-
torted that the very trowsers Jacob wore at
that moment had been a pair of his old ones
and were patched from pair of his fathers.
| Unfortunately this was the precise truth, al
though it was very mean Of Eugene to say it,
especially before the other scholars, who at
once set up shout, and made great many
witty remarks about patched breeches, and
beggars on horseback, and other delicate lit
tie illusions which | don't remember just
now.
The end Of it was that Jacob rushed away
from the school-house, feeling as if he would
| like TO kill somebody or other, he wasn't sure
but it was himself and as if he never could
face one of those boys again as long as he
lived. The more he thought of it the black.
er and bitterer grew his mood, and the more
eager his longing for revenge, just what re-
vengc he did not know at first; but just as tn,
sun went down, and gloomy black shadows
came creeping through the wood where h,
lay, something seemed to whisper suggestion
in his ear which made him start and turn pale
and then sit up and look all around him tc
see if any one was near enough to suspect the
horrible thought already working in his mind
No one was near, no one that he saw, al
though for that matter no one is ever alone
So, although Jacob could see nobody, anc
threw himself back upon the grass feeling
quite sure that he was alone, the something
which had whispered the horrible idea int,
his mind, did not let ii rest, but kept urging
it, and making il easy, and telling him how
badly he had been treated, and how sweet re
venge would be, until in the end Jacob ros,
up and went skulking along out of the wood
lot and across the fields, looking just like ;
dog that means to steal bone and knows h,
oug ght to be whipped for thinking of it.
The wood-lot where he had spent the after
noon belonged to Squire Vale, and the field
he crossed after leaving it were Squire Vale
also, and beyond them lay the great farm yard
and barns, and hay-stacks, at the back o
! Squire Vale's big white house. 1t was al
ready dusk when Jacob Billings left the wooC
! where indeed he would have been afraid t.
stay any longer, and by the time he reache'
, the buildings it was dark, so that he easil
l found chance to creep into the great hay
barn and hide himself there.
: Meantime his poor mother at home wa
getting more and more anxious, especially a
! she had an errand at the squire's that coul'
not be put off until morning, and there wa
no one with whom she could leave Nan unit
, Jacob came home. At last, just before il 60
; quite dark, she put Nan in her little basket
D carriage, made up the bundle of work sh
/ had promised to send home before night, am
T set oil for the great house When she reach
ed the door she took Nan out, put the bund
under her own arm, and so tried to carry bot
child and bundle up the steps, but half wa
4 up she tripped and fell, bruising herself con
Q siderably, and hurting poor little Nan so bad
ly that she tainted away, and Mrs. Vale VIII
had been looking out of the window, cam
running to the door, calling the servants +
follow her, and taking up Nan in her owl
arms carried her in and laid her upon bed
With care and patience they presently re
vived her, but she was SO feverish and excit
, ed with the fright and the pain that Mrs
Vale would not hear of her being carrie'
home that night, but kept both her and Mrs
Billings, and sent boy down to the littl
cottage TO wait until Jacobs return and tel
: him that his mother would not be home tha
night. The boy went, and as Jacob did no
appear, and he was pretty tired, he lay dow
', upon the seat in the little porch, and slep
i, very comfortably there until morning
. Ten o'clock struck and at the sound, ou
! went the last light in Squire Vale's orderl,
house, and the squire himself went last Of al
/, to bed. Ten minutes later, great cloud o
smoke, and then flashing, aickering fame
and then steady stream Of fire rose all a
once from the great hay-barn, and then from
the straw-shed, and finally from beneath th
wooden steps in front and back Of the house