Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1902-11-22
DIR. David Kennedy, Kennedy Row, Kingston. N. Y.

AS the crowd Of bystanders shranls
back with horror-stricken faces, con.
WINGED that they We're about to witness
the terrible fate which must instantly
overtake the old man, figure in q
much begrimed canvas jacket sprang
out among them, and clearing the
tracks at bound, alighted beside the
swaying form Of the man in danger.
| A shudder and wave of pitlful re-
| greet swept over the motlonless crowd
| HE can never drag him back in time"
they breathed. "They will both be
| killed. Oh. the pity OF it,
| But the football man had not thought
Of dragging the unsteady figure IN
| front of either approa ching engine. In
| an instant he had tackled the man and
thrown him flat upon the ground be-
tween the two tracks, for all the world
quite rs if he had been an opponent
on the football field. Then he dropped
lightly on top Of him, and lay there
| motionless, while the two trains thun.
dered past on each side of them and
the crowd stood waiting, spellbound.
In much less time than it takes to
describe the episode was over. and
what might have been n tragedy had
proved only Il bit Of mclodrama after
all, vet AS Clinton jumped up and
pulled the old man to his feet applause
and cheers louder than any that had
greeted him on the football field rang
in his ears.
Abashed and overwhelmed by such
an ovation, Clinton made haste to ell
bow his way through the crowd, and
in so doing nearly overthrow his own
brother Harold, who happened to be
standing directly in his path.
For heavens sake, was that you,
Clinton?" he cried in establishment.
do let me get out Of this" his
brother responded impatiently. "They
need not make such Il fuss because /
knocked the old duffer over" and he
bolted in the direction Of the gymna-
stun.
Saturday nights generally brought
the scattered members Of the Crompton
family together, rs the cOllegians all
spend Sunday under the parental roof
tree.
On this particular Saturday evening
all were assembled before Clinton came
in. Harold was all agog to describe
the scene that he had witnessed, but
he unselfishly held his tongue. "I'll
not spoil his story for him, but will
give him chance to do justice to It,"
he mentally calculated, as he watched
his brother swallowing his soup with
unruiiled composure.
But Clinton said nothing upon the
vital subject, and Harold looked at him
with increasing surprise, as he judi
cially set forth the respective merits Of
the opposing football teams and called
attention to their most vulnerable
points.
I'll turn in carly tonight, think"
he yawned as he withdrew from the
dining room. II put pretty solid work
into the last half Of that game" and
he leisurely wendell his way up stairs.
Il wish that Clinton would put
little solid work into something else"
his father volunteered as he disap-
peared from the room.
At this Harold, who had in times
past repeatedly scoffed at his brothers
athletic procivities, instantly fired up.
Father" he burst forth, you're
making n big mistake about Clinton.
He's got more genuine stuff in him
than all the rest Of us put together,
and il it's foot ball that's done ii, the
sooner We all go IN for the game the
better" and then he proceeded to give
graphic account of the afternoons
experience, which caused his father
to blow his nose loudly and repeatedly,
while his eyes glistened with happy
pride, and which sent his mother weep
ing in search of the sleepy athlete,
who could not understand what he
had done that was worth making such
q fuss about.
A few days later Mr.. Crompton re-
ceived note from his old friend Rob-
ert ChOatc, which ran somewhat as
follows:
Dear Crompton: hear that your
Clinton is going in for law. and if so.
l want him. When he gets through
with the law school you can hand him
over to me, for he's just the material
that l am on the lookout for, and you
may well be proud OF him. He scared
me out of years growth the other
afternoon ut the station, the young
rascal. but in spite of that wish you
would tell him to come around and
take dinner with me some night, for
I want to talk to him. With kind re-
CARDS to Mrs. Crompton. believe me
ever your friend,
"ROBERT CHOATE."
When Clinton came home the follow.
ing Saturday his father handed him
the note, remarking: I'm afraid
haven't appreciated your football, old
man, but I'm going to do better in the
future, and, by the way, Clinton, hear
that you're to play in the game next
week. Is that so!'
Clinton nodded.
every WE'LL then" Mr.. Crompton con.
tinued; 'your mother and 1 would
like to have you get us the best seats
that can be bought. for we've set our
hearts upon going up to see you make
the first uch-down."-New York
Times. So