The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-07-26
SHUT OUT.

1t is toward the end of an Afternoon
in December, and Wilfred Rolleston i.
walking alonga crowded London stree
with his face turned westward. A feS
moments ago and he was scarcely con
scious of where he was or where he
meant to %; he was walking on me
chemically in q heavy stupor, through
which there stole a haunting sense OF
degradation and despair that tortured
him duly. And suddenly, as if by
magic, this has vanished; he seems tC
himself to have walked from a miserable
day dream to the buoyant consciousness
OF youth and hope. Temperaments
which are subject to fits of heavy and
causelesS depression have their COM
pensationS sometimes in the very VIC
lence of the reaction which follows
the lnfesting cares, as in Longfellow'
poem, fold their tents, like the Arabs,
and as silently steal away and with
their retreat comes an exquisite eXhila-
ration which more equable dispositions
can never experience
Is this so with RolleSton now? He
only knows that the cloud has lifted
from his brain, and that in the clear
sunshine which bursts upon him he can
look his sorrows in the face. and that
there is nothing in them 50 terrible
after all.
1t is true that he is not happy at the
big city day school which he has lust
left. How should he be? He is dull
and grabbed and uncouth, and knows
too well that he is general object of
dislike; no one there cares to associate
with him, and he makes no attempt to
overcome their prejudices, being per-
fectly aware that they are different from
him, and hating them for it, but hating
himself, perhaps, the most.
And though all his evenings are spent
at home, there is little rest even for
him there; for the work for the next
day must be prepared, and he sits over
1t till late, sometimes with desperate
efforts to master the difficulties, but
more often staring at the pages before
him with eyes that are almost willfully
vacant.
All this had been and is enough in
itself to account for the gloomy state
into which he has sunk. But-and how
could he have forgotten it?-it is over
for the present.
Tonight he viii not have to sit up
struggling with the tasks which will
only cover him with fresh disgrace on
the morrow; for n whole month he need
not think of them, nor of the classes in
which the hand of every one is against
him. For the holidays have begun; to-
day has been the last of the term. Is
there no reason for Joy and thankfulness
in that? What fool he has been to let
those black thoughts gain such hold
over him!
Slowly, more as if it had happened a
long time ago instead of quite recently,
the incidents of the morning come back
to him, vivid and clear once more
morning chapel and the doctor sermon,
and afterward the pretense of work and
relaxed discipline in the clasS-rooms,
when the results of the examinations
had been read out, with the names of
the boys who had gained prizes, and
their remove to the form above. He
had come out last, of course. but no one
expected anything else from him; a
laugh had gone round the desks when
his humble total closed the list, and he
had Joined in it TO show them he didn't
care. And then the class had been dis
missed, and there had been friendly
good-byes, arrangements for walking
home in company or for meeting during
the holidays-for all but him; he had
gone out alone-and the dull blankness
had come over him from which he has
only just recovered.
But, for the present at all events, he
has got rid of it completely; he is
going home. where at least he is not
deSpised, where he will find sanctu-
airy from gibes and jostlings and inn
positions; and the longer he thinks of
this the higher his spirits rise. and he
steps briskly, with kind of axaltation,
until the people he passes in the streets
turn and look at him, struck by his ex-
preston. "They can see how Jolly I'm
feeling" he thinks, with smile.
The dusk is falling, and the shops he
passes are brilliant with lights and
decorations, but he does not stop to
look at any of them; his mind is busy
with settling how he shall employ him
self on this the first evening of his lib