Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1890-06-07
PRIZE STORY, CITY SCHOOLS.
How 1t Happened.

to our hero, Alfred Marriage, the
command that changed his life.
Young Alfred was the country pet,
admired by all, not, l dare say OIL
account of his personal appearance.
though some, who can see beauty in
genius, art and symmetry in nature,
who saw that independent smile
playing over his face, roughened and
bronzed by exposure, might have
called him handsome-but chiefly on
account of his pleasant, boyish ways.
He was good-natured, genial, ath>
letic, brave. AT this time he was
about eight or nine years Of age, we'll
acquainted with every nook and
granny for miles around. Alfred
was an apt student of nature. No
grand height lowered into the blue
ether, in vain, 10 arouse his admira>
ton for the beautiful and sublime.
No rushing cataract failed to impress
him with its sublime eloquence.
He could see in glorious sunrise
beauties far surprising the art of
man, and in purple twilight the ce-
lestial harmony of nature.
He seemed to realize the will of
dumb animals, and no creature was
ever without friend when in his
presence, SO he practiced in his own
way the highest degree OF philan-
thropy. The horse that he rode
was a treacherous creature, and
every one, save Alfred, who dared
approach her, paid well for their i'm
pudence. She was completely under
his control, and they were fast
friends.
With early June came visit to
his sister, who lived several miles
distant. This he considered great
treat, and the first days of June pass.
ed away SO slowly; but like all other
events, the day to go at last rolled
around. What was that strange
feeling as he arose that morning :?
Something seemed to be whispering
to him, but he knew not what it
was. He must dismiss such thoughts
from his mind, for now the time has
come for his departure. AS the clock
strikes eight, he tells his mother
goodbye, but seems to linger before
crossing the Threshold, and as he
passed down the walk to the gate, a
tear is seen to trickle down his man
ly cheek.
His little brother and sister, at
play, seemed the embodiment of
security. The faithful watch dog
turned his great intelligent eyes
toward those Of his master and SAYS
in his own dumb language: "Fare-
well, my dear young master, fare
we'll"
All this had its effect on Alfred,
young as he was, and for awhile he
seemed completely unnerved. He
has almost finished his journey, he
has only to descend Malcolm Hill,
cross the creek, go up the lane and
he is at sisters. He smiles trium-
phantly at the thought, places his
feet firmly in the stirrups, when sud-
denly, his horse stops, shifts the air,
and reluctantly responds to the
touch Of her masters whip. He ur-
geS her on, not knowing what is the
matter; but at the ne Xt curve of the
road he sees the object Of her fear.
1t is a gypsy camp wagon, stopping
for supplies. Now he is even with
the wagOn-almost passed it, when
suddenly big gypsy springs into
the middle of the road and says
"Whoa ~
Like flash Of lightning his horse
has darted back the other way, but a
gypsy is there. No way is left for
escape, as the sides of the road rise
for ten or fifteen feet almost perpen-
dicularly.
1t seemed now struggle between
his childish fear and his manly ma
ture for supremacy, but finally the
latter triumphed, and he assumed a
bold front to meet the big gypsy,
who opened the conversation with a
Good mornin', young Teller, good
mOrnin" to which Alfred responded
by "Howdy.n
Then the gypsy asked him if he
would like to go with them. "No''
said Alfred, "and l want you tC
turn my horse loose" almost break.
ing into cry. The gypsy simply
smiled, but not very assuring smile
to Alfred. After talking some time
the gypsy took him off his horse, TIED
hin, in tho WAGON and mt tho ovnsy