Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-05-06

G}R||z' z'||||kI'. 'S|I|:
 Sgl"
 THEY OFTEN CHATTED FREELY WITH HIM.
 aitty which he used occasionally to roar through the streets with few choice and congenial spirits Ca ditty which ernbalned the name of for mer proprietor of the Hintonville House), unrecalled for years, went lifting through his brain s'Down to Powers we will go, Let the lager freely flow,
 Then go reeling to and fro
 Back to Alma Materw It had very rakish sound, but it had never meant much more than the natural outburst of the exuberalce of youth.
 With the recollection of the college song came the thought of the col lege, and he decided that on the IAOIIOW hC WOuIu 1ldhC d to the scenes of his student days. Accordingly, Sunday morning, soon after he had breakfasted, he slipped away and set out. The autumn term had not yet opened, and he knew he should have the campus practically to himself. Reaching Hintonville, he left the village square behind, and turned westward along the extensive maple-shaded street that led to the base of the hill on the crest of which the college buildings were situated. Upon the old stone bridge spanning the swiftly flowing Oskenonto he paused, as he had so often done be- fore, to watch the dancing water, the swaying willows, and the chang ing lights and shadows. Then he went on up the long, steep slope. Now he saw changes on every hand. Buildings belonging to the various college fraternities were dotted along the hillside where, ill his day, there l had been open fields. He looked for R grape-yineyard that an injudicious husbandman had persisted in culti- Sating to the vast delight of the stu l dents, but it had disappeared. The little wooden arbor half way up the hill had been replaced by a more inn posing structure built in part of hewn stone. He saw the venerable form of his favorite professor, ap- parently untouched by the lapse of the years, sitting beneath his tree embowered porch, and the desire was strong in Rossiter's heart to go in and take him once again by the hand, but glance at his own attire, thread bare and weather-stained, though he had succeeded in freshening it some | what, restrained him.
 It was with thrill of pleasure that he came, just before reaching the hill crest, to the row of ancient Lom- bardy poplars, stately trees that had 1 defed the winter winds for well-nigh B century. They had greeting for him. Here we are," they seemed to ! say, just as we were when you tramped up and down beneath us, and we're glad to see you back" They, at least, did not notice the altered ap- pearance of the erewhile spruce 4 young man.
 flood of recollections swept upon hIu us ne UurncQ 1nJO the campus. Here there were new buildings and a more prosperous air than of old, but the general effect was the same, and struck Rossiter more than ever be- fore as beautiful and impressive. The hall in which he had roomed was I locked, so he roamed on, wandering about at will and meeting no one, bet | ter pleased to have it so, finding am- pie companionship in the talking trees and in his own memories. By and by he strayed down into the col lege burying-ground, little hedge girdled God's-acre just under the brow of the hill, where some of the college worthies and a few students who had gone from life while yet un- dergraduates slept their long sleep. It was an ideal spot, full of the deep est peace. In the lower corner, where the trees opened and revealed vast sweep of country as far away as the Deerbrool1 Hills beyond the Mohon- daga Valley, Rossiter cast himself upon the sward. Here he fingered for more than an hour, and when he rose to leave there was sense of contentment in his heart that was strange to him, and the light of a
 irmer resolve shone nnnn his face.
 (To be continued)