Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1871-04-23

tnat Is Olu III OF ~. We'll, 1t Ii
no use stopping him; he will, ten to one,
have forgotten all about me-" or who re-
trains from going TO see his old college
room simply because q generation has
sprung up which knows him not, and the
furniture is not arranged in precisely the
same order in which he left il on taking
his degree twenty years ago. Beware OF
such one, but pity him. Depend upon
it, there is something the matter, either
with his digestion or his bankers account.
Living in the past, he viii tell you with a
sheer, is as proflless an amusement as
building castles in the air, and about as
foolish, and will begin to quote the
proverb, "Cbe ricordGr8i ben dopjia
Ia ROsG''-
" Who thus remembers, all be gains
Is, that he doubles his own pains -
quite forgetting that, if he doubles his
pains, he doubles his pleasures and tri-
umphs also.
Cicero knew better. "The memory of
past labors is sweet, " he says more than
once; and for my part agree with him.
Indeed, one Of my greatest pleasures is
TO recall the happy scenes of my boyhcod
and youth; and when am lucky enough
to fall in with an old friend l have not
met for years-one with whom can,
like Alexander at his feast, eight all my
battles Ger sgainn-I do not fail to mark
that day in my calendar withs white stone.
You can imagine, then, how great q
treat it was for me-who, after toler-
ably successful career in India, have now
returned to England to spend the res. of
my days in the happy tranquility of a
little estate in the couutry-to receive a
box containing several little odds and
ends, keepsakes, etc, which On my de-
parture for India thirty years ago, l had
left in the charge of friend.
The box arrived before breakfast; and
having hurried over that meal, to the
detriment of my digestion, without stay
ing to read the newspaper-asis my wont
or to set the lessons of my youngest
son (whOse education l am superintend-
ing myself, FASTENED to shut myself
up in my study, that l might revel, all by
myself, in the recOllections of the scenes
which l knew every article in the box
would conjure up.
With eager fingers, myself unscrewed
the lid of the box, and began TO spoil its
contents; and at the end of half an hour
found myself sitting, dumb host, hold
ing silent converse with a group of dumb
old friends.
had nearly reached the bottom of the
box, when l came across . small paper
parcel, carefully wrapped, and on open
ing it, found-d black c0ckade for q
servants hat. had quite forgotten
that had kept this, ard the pleasure on
seeing it was all the greater The sight
of it changed me all at once--in magma
tion-frcm an old to young man; and
with sll the alacrity of nineteen years, l
ran with il IL the next room, and held up
the trophy before my wife and Col. Law
ley, an old friend who happened to be
staying with me at the time. Each had
been fellow-act0r with myself in the
drama which the sight of it recalled;
they recognized it directly, and were as
hearty in their welcome OF il as myself
had been.
''lLl tell you what, said Lawley, after
a pause, ''you ought to write an account
of the circumstances under which that
cOckade was used. L would make a
capital Christmas story"
sob, do, Harry" cried my wife.
''You were saying only yesterday that
the change Of life from the busy Judge
to the lazy squire hardly suited you, and
that you lOnged for some work. Writing
this will be pleasant employment; and
you viii, at the same time, be doing your
best TO contribute to the general merrl-
ment of English society at Christmas
time.
l promised TO act upon their sugges-
ton, and determined to begin at once.
''YOu will not forget to disguise the
real names Of your characters, hope"
whispered my wife, as ] took up the
cOckade and Yves leaving the room.
Many an old officer and competition
wallah" VIII recollect Furze House, at st. |
Martin s-on-the-sea, the late residence of
that prince of coaches" Mr.. FosDery.
Now, when say that Mr.. Fosbery was
coach, do not wish to convey the idea
that he was one of those gentlemen who
are in the habit of advertising for back
ward or delicate boys. FuTze House was
none of those establishments that combine
the lunatic asylum with the infrmary.
The pupils were society Of young men
who, having been popular at the public
schools, deemed it advisable to resign the
captsincy of the boat or the eleven, and
to separate themselves from the allure
ments of their friends for few months
before going to the university or entering
the army.
1t was the Christmas vacation thirty
years ago, and Mr.. Fosbery had gone
away to join in the festivities of the sea-
son at a country house. He had, how
ever, permitted two of his pupils to keep
their rooms in his absence-Lswley and
myself.
In writing a narrative, in which am
about TO take the most prominent part, it
is but right that at the outset l should give
some account of my personal appearance,
ETC., at the period 10 which my tale re-
fers; aad therefore take my pen and
paper to the mirror, to see if there be any
traces of the Harry CuthbeTt of thirty
years ago remaining.
Hardly any. An old gentleman with
thin white hair is before me. His face
is gjlded by exposure TO an Indian sun,
and perhaps by touch of the liver-com-
plant. He wears q respectable stlck-up
collar, and an equally respectable black
satin stock. His eye is, l think, keen
and judicially stern, though, l hope, not
without some indications of kindly na-
ture Instead of this Old fogy, picture
to yourselves, my readers, youth with
abundance of Light brown hair, instead of
scsnty supply of white; a clear COM
plexion, pale, but not saffron. As all my
good looks have deserted me some years,
| may confess that thirty years ago con-
sidered myself by no means Unlocking,
and was in the habit of adjoining any
figure in 8 manner suitable to my estimate
of its merits.
My friend Lawley was a head taller
than myself and three years older. He
had, aud has new, an open, frank eX-
preston, and eyes which twinkled with
merriment. We had been fast friends at
Elton; but he left before l aid Che WIS
now twenty-two), and had gone to
Cambridge, where, in two years time he
had managed to sCrape through his
'gittle 90, =" and to render himself thor
oughIy famous among the under -gradu-
ates, and thoroughly obnoxious to the
'dons.
He v-7s move fb4,, -susDnrto3 of hing