Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1883-06-29

pork business at that time, as a clerk,
and had to stop off here to see man for
the firm. l put up at the best hotel,
feeling as comfortable and Indifferent az l
ever did in my life. There was not the
shadow of an idea in my mind of what
was going to happen. On Sunday morn,
ing l walked about town, and it began to
come down on me"
"What, the town." asked Mrs. Penn
Der.
"No: the strangest and most unac.
countable feeling / ever had in my life,
answered Tompkins. at was thirteen
years since had said goodbye TO col.
lege. 1t had long ago become apparent
to me that the ideas with which had
graduated were visionary and impracti-
cable. 1 comprehended that the college
professors were not the great men | had
once thought them, and that college
president was merely human being. ]
had been hardened by fighting my way,
as friendless young man has to do i'll
n great city. As the confidential clerk
of large pork house in Chicago, felt
equal to the next man, whoever he might
be- II professor had met me M ] got
off the cars here Saturday night, it would
have been easy for me to snub him. But
Sunday morning. MS familiar objects be-
gan to appear i'll the course of my walk,
the strange feeling Of which have spoken
cume over me. 1t was the feeling of old
times. The white clouds, the blue lake,
this wonderful scenery, thrilled Inc, and
called back the college dreams"
As he spoke, my old classmates voice
trembled.
"You may remember that I used to
like Horace and Virgil and Homer, he
remarked, sitting up, crossing his feet
tailor-fashlon, and looking appealingly nj
me-
replied, enthusiastically and truly,
that he had been one of our best lovers
of the poets.
WELL" continued Tompkins, "that
Sunday morning those things began to
come back to me. 1t wasn't exactly
delightful My old ambition to do some
thing great in the world awokc as if
from long sleep. As ] prolonged my
walk the old associations grew stronger.
When / came near the college buildings
it seemed as if l still belonged here.
The hopes of an ideal career were before
me as bright as ever. The grand things
/ was going to do, the volumes of poems
and other writings by Tompkins, and
his marvellous Successes were as clear as
day. In short, the whole thing was con-
lured up as if it were picture. just as 1t
used to be when | was student i'll col
lege, and it was too much for me.
Tompkins seemed to be getting lit
tie hoarse, and his frank face was very
serious.
"Timothy,' suggested Mr.. Pember,
"may be Won could tell us what that big
rock is, out in tue lake"
"Why, father, don't you remember ?
That is rock Dunder,' said Mrs. Penn
Der.
81 guess it is" said the old gentleman,
musingly.
"Well,' resumed Tompkins, ''ns | was
saying. on one side were Homer and Vir-
gil and Horace and Tompkins and on the
other was pork. / cannot explain it, but
somehow there it was. The two pictures,
thirteen years apart, were brought so
close together that they touched. 1t was
something | do not pretend to understand.
Managing to get by the college buildings,
| came up to this spot where we are now.
You will infer that my eyes watered bad
ly, and to tell the truth they did. Of
course it is all very WE'LL" explained
Tompkins, increasing his legs, turning
upon his side, and propping his head on
his hand again, course ii is all very
well to rake down the college, and say
AiD'a Mater doesn't amount toanything.
The boys all do it, and they believe what
they say for the first five OF 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
punish. She had me across her knee,
that Sunday morning, in way that
would have thought impossible. After
an hour controlled myself and went
back to the hotel. I brushed my clothes,
and started for church, with lump in
my throat all the while. My trim bust
ness suit didn't seem so neat aud nobby
as usual. The two pictures, the one of
the poets and the other of pork, were i'll
my mind. SHE'D along the sidewalk in
n nervous condition, and reaching the
church without being recognized manag-
ed to get n seat near the door. Could /
believe my senses? l knew that / was
changed, probably past all recognition,
but around me ! saw the faces of my
Burlington friends exactly as they had
been thirteen years before. 7 did not
understand then, as do now, that young
man i'll business in Chicago will become
yray-headed in ten years, though he might
have lived quiet life in Vermont for
quarter of century, without changing
A hair"
at is the same with horses" suggested
Mr.. Pember. six years on horse-car
n New York about uses up au average
horse, though he would have been good
.or fifteen years on farm"
Exactly" said Tompkins. "You can
imagine how felt that Sunday, with my
hair half whitewashed.
you know always said you might |
nave begun coloring your hair, Timothy"
said Mrs. Pember kindly.
Eyes" replied Tompkins, with an I'M
Easy glance at me "but / didn't do it.
There was one thing in the church there,
hat morning, that shall never have n
better chance to tell of, and / am going
% tell it now, while you are here"
This last sentence was addressed to me.
md my old classmate uttered the words
with gentleness and frankness that /
brought back my best recollections of
llm in our college days, when he was
little Tompkins," the warmest-hearted
elbow in our class.
"Do you remember Lucy Cary?" he
ssked.
l replied that ] did, very well indeed
md the picture of n youthful face, of
beauty, came out with
strange distinctness from the memories
If the past, as | said it.
We'll, / saw Lucy there" continued
rompkins, ''singing in the choir in
church, looking Just as she did in the
ong-ago days when we used to serenade
lere. am willing TO tell you about
t."
Tompkins said this in such confding
manner that l instinctiyely moved toward
lin and took hold of his hand.
"a ripht clnsanantn - LIZ anil aittinn |