Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1872-11-08
The Leisure Hour.
TO.N FOSTRR'S UYFR.
BY EDNA DEAN PROCTOR.


had just returned from two years
stay in Europe, and was saunteiing own
fremont street, in the golden September
morning, when l saw my old friend, Tom
oster, get out a horse car few Steps in
advance of me. l knew him in a moment,
though we had hardly met since we were
at Exeter Academy together, ten years be-
forc-room- mates and blithe companions
until we parted-I to 20 to Harvard, and
he TO enter his fathers store, the well known
house of Foster & Co., Pearl street. lie
was merry, hearty, practical fellow, clear
skinned and robust as an Englishman, self
reliant and enterprising as New Hamp-
shire birth and Boston training could max g
him. 1 always liked him; but he plunged
into business and Iinto study, and so, with
out meaning ii, we had almost lost sight of
each other. lie was an only child, and his
parents spent their summers at their home
stead in Greenland, near Portsmouth, and
their winters in Boston.
"As | said, | knew him in moment.
He had grown tall and stout; but the boy
was still in his face, and with aush of
early feeling sprang forward and caught
him by the arm =
"Tom How are you ?"
He looked puzzled for a moment, and
then bursting into laugh, he seized my
hand in his strong grasp, and exclaimed =
"Why, John Ralston is this you? Where
did you come from? I'm glad to see you,
my boy. Why, haven't set eyes on you
since we made that trip 10 Nahant, in your
Freshman year. The truth is, father was
so poorly for long time then that had
everything to see to, and felt as If the world
was on my shoulders. / did hear, though,
about your.college honors and your going
toG ermany; and I've often thought of you
lately and wished to see you. Why, Jack,
in spite Of my weight, and your beard and
broad shoulders, can't realize that ten
years have gone since we were al Exeter
together. We must talk over old times
and new. When did you get back and
what are you pans?"
u came yesterday, and shall stay in this
city ON account of a business matter, until
next Tuesday. Then | am going home"
"Well, now, this is Saturday, and you
can do nothing after three o'clock. Come
and spend Sunday with me in the country.
! want 10 show you my wife"
"Your wife Are you married, Tom?"
married nearly year. said he with
smile.
"Hou don't look very solemn over it,"
solemn? It's the jolliest thing I ever
did in my life. Meet me at the Eastern de-
pot at four o'clock, and I'll tell you all a.
bout it on the way down"
We parted at the Winter street corner
he 10 go to his store, and to the Parker
House
GLOW handsome Boston has grown"
said !, glancing at the fine buildings and
the Common, beautiful in the September
sun.
1--WE think it a nice town. he replied,
speaking with the moderate words and per
feet assurance of the Bostonian, to whom
his city Is the sum of all excellence and de-
light. Remember, -four O'clock" And
he disappeared in the crowd.
"rom marriedW | said TO myself, as l
walked along. "l dare say it's TO his fla
TIERS pretty ward, Clara Maitland, whom
] saw when 1 spent the day there, eleven
years ago. l remember what long curls
she had, and how fond she seemed Of him.
Yes, dare say It's to Clara. / hope,
though, she hasn't grown up into one of
those delicate young ladies, good for moth
ing but to display the latest fashions, and
waltz litde, and torture the piano. Bet
ter some rosy, sturdy Gretchen than a poor
doll like them. 1t would be "A shame fnr
Tom, with his splendid physique and Wig
orous brain, to be tied for life to such wo-
manp And then, turning down School
street, my thoughts wandered off to blue
eyed girl | had loved for many year-a
girl who was not satisfied with the small
triumphs of the croquet ground, but who
could send the arrow straight home to the
mark and climb The hills with me, her
step as light and free as the deer's in the