The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1896-12-14

| Amzi's horse and buggy and started
| for Nicholson. There / hunted up two
Of the best fighters in that county, men
who are dead and gone now, whom
will not name for that reason. They
were the old-fashiOned training day
and town meeting fighters, men who
would rather fight than eat, and who
| had immOrtalized themselves upon
more than one hard fought field of bat
| tie. After brief interview, accompa-
MED by a financial consideration, they
agreed to come up by the back road
| and then down through Squires' woods
! so as not to be seen by the scholars.
Then they would conceal themselves
| in the wood house adjoining the school
until invited by a signal of mine to
participate in the festivities l then
started back for West Nicholson not
| SAYING a word to any one else regard
| ing my plans for the morrow.
The next morning found me first at
| the school house awaiting the arrival
| of my friends the enemy" l can see
| them now. though many years have
| passed, those big hearty fellows as
| they came trooping up the roadway
| that led to the school. laughing. talk
| ing and making their arrangements as
| to my welfare Good friends to me
| those lads in after years and some who
are sleeping so quiet there in the little
| village churchyard are most sincerely
mourned. Here the conductor paused
moment and our minds went back to
our school days again. One of the lis
| teners repeated these lines:
| And don't YOU remember the school, Ben
Bolt.
With the master so cruel and grim.
! And the shaded nook by the running
brook,
TO
| Grass grows on the masters grave, Ben
| Bolt.
The spring of the brook is dry,
| And of all the boys who were scnoolmatcs
then,
There are only you and l.
They came in and took their seats,
continued Mr. Harding and you never
could have told by their quiet actions
and innocent looks that it was only the
| brief calm before the fearful tempest
to follow and it gave me great satisfac-
| tiOn to see from my position upon the
raised platform through the window
my two expected guests from Nicholson
cautiously sneaking into the wood shed.
| had just called a class to recite
when viii Worrall suddenly jumping
| up cried out slamming his book down
| upon the floor, II want to speak my
piece! | always speak Tuesdays"
II want to speak tool" yelled Nichols
starting for the platform. Il always
| speak first"
knew that the war had commenced
and to this day cannot help laughing
when | remember the scene. Both We're
upon the platform. Nichols swinging
his arms and repeating in voice
| that could have been heard at Spring
vile, "rhe Death of Napoleon"
wild was the night. yet wilder night
| Hung around the soldiers pillow"
And Worrall yelling at the top Of
| his voice:
"The death of Sir John Moore,
Not drum was heard, not a funeral
note"
can never forget how those two lads
| were dressed. There had been q brass
band down at Piercevlle some time
| before and owing to controversy
| springing up between the members,
| some wanting to play sacred music
| only and the others prOfane, not eX-
| aCtly profane. but gayer airs, and as
consequence the band broke up and
the suits We're levied upon and sold at
| auction. So Nichols and orralrs
| parents bought each of the boys one of
the suits with but little consideration
as to their fitness.
AS | stepped towards the platform
Nichols sprnging towards Worrall
gave him shove and of course WOr-
| rail- had to grasp me (all planned be-
| forehand), and we went down on the
| floor accompanied by the desk which
Nichols kicked over on us.
! War had commenced and the girls
| and smaller children ran screaming
| from. the room. Managing to gain my
feet. found myself alone facing a
gang of sturdy lads. who would not
! scruple to throw me out of the school