Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-07-20

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dent in college, and it was too much for me-"
Tompkins seemed TO be getting little
! hoafse, 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 romombor2 That
is rock Dunder, said Mrs. Pember
81 guess it is" said the old gentleman,
musngly.
"Wel " resumed Tompkins, "as was say
ing, on one side we're Homer and Virgil and
! Horace and Tompkns and on the other was
| pork | cannot explain it, but somehow
there il was The two pictures, thirteen
years apart, were brought 80 close together
that they touched. It was something | do
not pretend to understand. Managing to get
by the college buildings, 1 came up to this
spot where we are now. You may infer that
my eyes watered badly, and to tell the truth
they did. OF course it is all very we'll, eX-
! planned Tompkins, increasing his legs, turn
ing upon his side, aud propping his head on
| his hand again, -''of course it is all very
well to rake down the college, and say Aimd
Mater doesn't amount to anything. The boys
all do it, and they believe what they say for
five or six years after they leave here. But
we may as well understand that If we know
how to slight the old lady, and don't go to see
her for dozen years, she knows how to pun
ish. She had me across her knee, that Sun
| day morning, in a way that | would have
| thought impossible. After an hour CONTROL.
ed myself, and went back to the hotel
brushed my clothes, and started for church,
with lump in my throat all the while My
trim business suit didn't seem so neat and
nobby as usual. The two pictures, the one
of the poets and the other of pork, were in
my mind. | SHE'D along the sidewalk in a
nervous condition, and reaching the church
without being recognized managed to get a
seat near tue door. Could | believe my
senses l knew that was changed proba-
| bly, past all recognition, but around me | saw
the faces of my Burlington friends exactly as
they had been thirteen years before. did
not understand then, as l do now that a
| young man in business in Chicago will become
gray-headed in ten years, though he might
! have lived quiet life in Vermont for quar-
ter of a century, without changing hair"
ut is the same with horses, suggested Mr..
| Pember. six years on horse-car in New
York about uses up an average horse, though
he would have been good for fifteen years on
farm"
Exactly" said Tompkins. "You can i'm
agine how felt that Sunday, with my hair
half whitewashed.'
you know always said you might have
begun coloring your hair, Timothy" said
Mrs Pember kindly.
"Yes, replied Tompkins, with an uneasy
glance at me "but didn't do it, There
was one thing in the church there, that morn
ing, that shall never have better chance to
tell of, and ! am going to tell it now, while
| you are here"
This last sentence was addressed to me, and
my old classmate uttered the words with a
genteness and frankness that brought back
my best recollectons of him in our college
days, when he was "ittle Tompkins, the
warmest-hearted fellow in our class
n. l. I l., l. /
| replied that did, very well indeed and
the picture of youthful face of Madonna.
like beauty came out with strange distinct
ness from the memories of the past, as l said
| it.
"well, l saw Lucy there" continued Tomp-
kins, singing in the choir in church, looking
just as she did in the long. ago days when We
used to serenade her am willing to tell
you about it"
Tompkins said this in such a confdng
manner that instinctively moved toward him
and took hold OF his hand
IAN right, classmate, - he said, sitting up,
and looking mo in the eyes in the peculiar
winning way that he had won us all when he
was in college
why boys" exclaimed Mrs Pember
with her light laugh.
Tompkins found a large stone, put it
against a tree, and sat down on it, while | re-
olined 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
in behind the others, so that you can see only
the top, which is shaped like a pyramid
That is old Whiteface, and it is more than
forty miles from here. II used 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 n little village called Whining
ton and it is the center of the world. Lucy
Cary aud were born there. 1t was not much
Of a village then, and it il about the same
now. There was no church. and no store, and
no hotel, in my time; there were only half
dozen dwelling houses, and blacksmith
shop, and man who made shoes Lucy lived
in tho house next to ours. Her father was
the shoemaker Lucy and picked berries
and rambled about with Rover, the dog, from
the time We we're little. or course you will
naturally think there ia something romantic
coming, but there il not. We were Just a
couple of children playing together; and We
studied together as we grew older. They
made a great deal Ct studying and schooling
over there. They had almost as much respect
for learning then in Wilmington they have
now among the White Mountains, where they
will not allow any walters at the hotels who
cannot talk Greek
at was quite an affair when Lucy and
left Wilmington and came to Burlington.
Tho departure of two inhabitants was a loss
to the town. It was not equal to the Chicago
fire. but it was an important event. l went
, to college, and Lucy came over the lake to
work in woolen factory. There is where she
worked, pointing to the beautiful little vii
lage of Winooski a mile away behind US, in
the green valley of the Onion river
And she had to work there for a living,
while you went to oollegeS" asked Mrs. Penn
| Der.
5 'That was it, said Tompkins 1--WE used
to serenade her sometimes with the rest but
Y she seemed to think II was not exactly the
= right thing for poor factory girl, and so we
g gave II up. l used to see her occasionally,
r but somehow there grew up a distance be-
tween u.s."
GLOW was that - inquired Mrs. Pember.
r "Well, to tell the truth" answered Tomp-
S kins, 81 think my college ideas had too much
3 to do with it. l didn't sec it at the time, but
y it has come over ma lately. When young
/ chap gets his head full of new ideas he is very
o likely to forget the old Ones"
Il "You did not mean TO do wrong, am sure
It said Mrs. Pember.
Q "The excuse l have" continued Tompkins,
8 'is that had to work and scrimp and suffer
so myself to get along and pay my way thai
dies and how to meet my expenses. Their
there was that dream of doing some grea
l.. thing in the world. / taught the district
d school in Wilmington three mopthG during
d my sophomore year to set money to go OF
y with and think that helped to make me am
b bilious. 1t was the sincere conviction of the
d neighborhood over there that would be pres
/. ident of the college or of the United States
d do not think they would have conceded tha
i there was much difference in the two posi-
n tions. felt that would be disgraced if
IS did not meet their expectations. By one o.
a those condolences which seemed to follow
N our fortunes, Lucy made a long visit hom
}. when | was teaching in Wilmington. sh
10 was one OF my pupils She was quiet little
il lady, and hardly spoke loud word, that re
!. member, during the winter"
g. ''Did you try to talk to her TimothyY ask
le ed Mrs, PemheT.
le ~ do not claim that l did" answere
s. Tompkins. ~ was studying hard to keep N
=. with my class, )" and that was the reason. Blu
10 l wish had paid more attention to Luc
Cary that winter. / would not have yo