The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1883-11-11

IL it were a picture, just as it used to be
when | was a student in college, and 1t was
to much for me-
Tompkius seemed to be getting a little
hoarse, and his frank face was very serious
Timothy suggested Mr.. Pember, ''may
be you could tell us what that big rock is.
out in the lake"
"Why, father, don't you rememberf That
Is rock Dunder,n said Mrs. Pember.
81 guess it is" said the old gentleman, mus
ingly.
well, - resumed Tompkins, "as | was say
ing, on one side were Homer and Virgil and
Horace and Tompkins, and on the other was
pork. l cannot explain ii, but somehow there
il was. The two pictures, thirteen years
apart, were brought so close together that
they touched. 1t was somsthing l do not pre-
tend to understand. Managing to get by tho
college buildings, 1 came up to this spot
where we are now. You will infer that my
eyes watered badly, and TO tell the truth they
did. OF course II is all very WELL eX-
planned Tompkins, increasing his legs, turn
ing upon his side, and propping his head on
his hands again,-"of course 1t is all very
we'll 20 rake down the college, and say
Alma Mater doesn't amount to anything.
The boys all do it, and they believe what they
say for the first five or six years after they
leave here. But we may as well understand
Nh"AN - ~ -AhS" 49, ~ 20 ~ CH1 a@'1 .
and don't go TO see her for a dozen years, she
knows how to punish. She had me across
her knee that Sunday morning in a way that
| would have thought impossible. After AZ
hour l controlled myself and went back to
the hotel. | brushed my clothes and started
for church, with a lump in my throat all the
while. My trim business suit didn'ts seem so
neat and nobby as usual. The two pictures,
the one of the poets and the other of pork,
.u--. L.. . .-sl n -lE.I -I-..- a.. III
walk In a nervous condition, and. reaching
the church without being recognized, man
aged to get a seat near the door. Could |
believe my senses | knew that 1 was
changed probably past all recognition, but
around me | saw the faces of my Burlington
friends exactly as they had been thirteen
years before. l did not understand then, ms
1 do now, that a young man in business ia
Chicago will become gray-headed in ten
years, though he might have lived n quiet life
In Vermont for a quarter OF a century with.
out changing a hair"
at is the same with horses" suggested
Mr.. Pember. Six years on a horse-car in
New York about uses up an average horse.
though he would have been good for fifteen
years on n farm"
Exactly" said T~ompkins. "You can
imagine how | felt that Sunday. with my
hair half whitewashed."
you know 1 always said you might have
begun coloring your hair, Timothy" said
Mrs, Pember kindly.
YES" replied TOmpkins, with an uneasy
glance at me; but l didn't do 1t. There was
one thing in the church there, that morning,
that | shall never have u better chance to tell
of, and I am going to tell 1t now, while yon
are here"
This last sentence was addressed to me. and
my old alaeGmats4 nffaraA tho xvnrds ..fsh a
gentleness and trankness that brought back
my lest recollections of him In our college
days, when he was 'little Tompkins," the
warmest hearted fellow in our class.
"Do you remember Lucy CAryP' he asked.
| replied that | did, very well indeed; and
the picture of a youthful face, OF Madonna.
like beauty, came out with strange distinc-
ness from the memories of the past, az | said
II.
well, 1 saw Lucy there, ~ continued Temp
kins, '~'singing in the choir In church, looking
just as she did in the long-ago days when we
used 10 serenade her, | am willing to tell you
about it."
Tompkins said this in such II confding
manner that | instinctively moved toward
him and took hold OF his hand.
Gan right, classmntc," he said, sitting UP,
and looking me in the eyes in a peculiarly
winning way that had won us all when he
was in college.
"Why, boysr' exclaimed Mrs. Pember, with
her light laugh.
T%ompkins found u large stone, put 1t against
n tree and sat down on IL, while ! reclined at
his feet. He said;
"You have asked me, Mrs. Pember, very
often, about the people up here, and now l
will tell you about some of them. Do you
notice that mountain away beyond the lake,
Ia habfnI fba pthar,z gn Tint N 90, T,1,
the top, which is shaped like a pyramldi
That is the old Whiteface, and it is more than
forty miles from here. fused to be under.
stood that there was nothing whatever over
there except woods, and rocks, and bears,
and John Brown. But the truth is, right at
the foot of the mountain, in the valley on this
side, there is u little village called Whining
ton, and II IL the centre of the world. Lucy
Cary and | were born there. 1t was not much
Of u village then, and it is about the same
now. There was no church, and no store,
and no hotel, in my time; there werc only
half n dozen dwelling houses, and IA black.
smith shop, and n man who made shoes.
Lucy lived in the house next TO ours. Her
father was the man who made shoes. Lucy
aud | picked berries and rambled about with
Rover, the dog, from the time we were little.
OF course you will naturally think there is
something romantic coming, but there is not.
We were just n couple of children playing to-
gether; and we studied together as we grew
older. They made a great deal of studying
and schooling over there. They had almost
as much respect for learning then in VIII
mington as they have now among the White
mountains, where they will not allow any
wal tiers at the hotels who cannot talk Greek.
at WINS quite an affair when Lucy and |
left Wilmington and came to Burlington.
The departure of two inhabitants was a loss
to the town. 1t was not equel TO the Chicago
fire, but 1t was an important event. / went
10 college, and Lucy came over the lake to
work in a wooden factory. There is where
she worked, !" pointing to the beautiful little
village of Winooski, a mile away behind Us,
In the green valley OF Onion river.
And she had TO work there for u living
while you went to collegef' asked Mrs. Penn.
Der.
"That was II, ~ said Tompkins. eve used
to serenade her sometimes, with the rest; but
she seemed to think 1t was not exactly the
right thing for a poor factory-girl, and so we
gave II up. / used to see her occasionally,
but somehow there grew up a distance be.
tween us"
Chow was that, - asked Mrs.. Pember.
"Well, to tell the TRUTH answered Temp.
kns, 81 think my college ideas had much to
do with 1t. / did not see 1t at the time, but it
has come over me lately. When a young
chap gets his head full Of new ideas he is very
likely to forget the old ones"
"You did not mean to do wrong, 1 am
sure said Mrs. Pember.
THE excuse l have" continued Tompkins.
dis that | had TO work and scrimp and suffer
30 myself, to get along and pay my way. tina
| hardly thought OF anything except my
studies and how to meet my expenses Then
there was that dream OF doing some great
thing In the world 1 taught the district