Harvard Stories Part 19

"Sheffield tried to pretend in the weakest way that he didn't hear him.

The big sister told Freddy to run away and play; but Freddy was not the lad to be bluffed that way. He laughed in a knowing way and said, 'Ha-ha, I know. It's got something to do with some club at Yale, hasn't it? You have got some secret about it, haven't you? But _I'll_ find it out. Nell has secrets too, but I always find 'em out.'

"Hereupon his sister told him that if he didn't mind her, and stop making a nuisance of himself, she'd tell his father and have him punished. He said he wasn't making a nuisance of himself and appealed to me. 'Mr. Hudson always tells me all about the Harvard clubs, don't you, Mr. Hudson?'

"I a.s.sured him that I didn't mind any such questions at all, and told him (Heaven forgive and preserve me!) that if he would come and see me at Cambridge I would make him have a first-rate time, and show him the clubs to which I belonged.

"'There,' he said, 'you don't think I'm a nuisance either, do you, Mr.

Sheffield? Isn't there a club at Yale called the Skull and Keys? I know there is, 'cause I once heard Nell say she wondered how----'

"His sister grabbed him and said 'Stop' so severely that she managed to choke him off for a moment. But it had got too hot for Joe. He suddenly remembered that he had an engagement at three, at the Kebo Valley Club, and retreated, leaving the Crimson to wave alone and victorious over the field.

"Then how that girl did go for Freddy! He went off almost crying. I tried to stand up for the little man, and remarked how ridiculous the Yale men were about their societies. She didn't agree with me very heartily. She said it was a relief to see some young men take at least something seriously, and intimated that she didn't believe Harvard men were ever serious about anything, or had any reverence in them. So for half an hour I dilated on our great merits, and explained what worthy young men we really are.

"Next day I tried to 'set' Freddy on again, but it was no use; he had been temporarily sat on. I was lunching at their house, and for a wonder Sheffield wasn't there. I asked Freddy whether he had found out about Mr. Sheffield's club yet. He said 'No, and I can't either. Nell told on me, and Popper said he'd spank me if I troubled older people any more. I didn't trouble anybody, did I, Mr. Hudson? I said you had told me yourself to ask Mr. Sheffield about his pin, and Nell said you----'

"I never knew what his sister had said about me, because, just at this point, the old gentleman banged the table and roared, 'You eat your lunch, sir!' and Freddy subsided.

"A day or two after that, we all went on a picnic. Even d.i.c.k, the old hermit, came along, for a wonder. I persuaded his family it wouldn't be polite for him to stay home, as I was his guest."

"Yes," put in d.i.c.k, "you were my guest and I was responsible for your behavior. It wasn't the etiquette that worried my family, it was the danger of the thing. Besides, I wanted to see you and Joe Sheffield making fools of yourselves. You did it too, both of you. Go ahead. I won't interrupt you again."

"We all piled into those delightful long buckboards with four or five seats, and drove to the foot of one of the mountains. There is only one defect in the architecture of a Mt. Desert buckboard. It holds three on a seat. Sheffield had to shove himself in on the same seat with the pretty neighbor, so I got in on the other side of her. I did most of the talking during the drive."

(At points such as this during the narrative, Hudson would stop and violently puff his cigar, while Stoughton would hug himself gleefully, and show other signs of delight.)

"We carried the lunch up the mountain," Hudson went on, "and ate it, along with the ants and other things, on the summit. After lunch Sheffield managed to drop me, somehow, and I went off for a smoke with d.i.c.k. I consulted with Machiavelli Stoughton, as to how I might again cast down the man from Yale. I knew the crafty Dago could help me, if any one could. d.i.c.k wished for Freddy, for d.i.c.k always knew how to use that interesting child; but Freddy had been left weeping at home. Dago Mac' came up to his form, though. He suddenly pointed to a cl.u.s.ter of brilliant wild flowers. I said, 'Yes, very pretty. What about 'em.' Then d.i.c.k said 'Do you see that broad rock this side of them?' It was a smooth slab that reached from the path, about twenty feet, down to where the flowers grew. It slanted at a good steep angle, so that a man could barely walk down it, with rubber-soled shoes. I didn't get much inspiration out of the rock. Then d.i.c.k showed me a blackberry vine, or some sort of a bramble, that ran across the face of the rock a little more than half way down it. Still I couldn't see what he was driving at.

He said to come along and he'd show me. We went to the basket where the remains of the lunch had been stowed, and d.i.c.k took what was left of the b.u.t.ter. Then we went back to the rock and the Dago greased as much as he could of it, just above the bramble. 'Now,' he said, 'when we start back for the buckboard, you fall in alongside of Sheffield and the enchantress. When you get to this rock, the method is very simple,--you show the flowers, Eli will do the rest.'

"At last I took in at a glance all the grand possibilities of the scheme. I remembered that Joe Sheffield was very particular about his appearance, and was dressed up to the hilt. He was always sensitive about his clothes. I fell upon d.i.c.k's neck and wept tears of grat.i.tude.

Then we went back to the rest of the party. Sheffield had had a monopoly the whole afternoon."

"A corner in Paradise?" suggested Burleigh.

"Exactly," said Hudson, "or perhaps Paradise in a corner. They didn't turn up until we had shouted for ten minutes and the party had all started down the mountain. I ranged up alongside of the pair, thereby breaking up the Paradise trust, and we three brought up the rear. When we got to the point in the path, just above the prepared rock, I called attention to the flowers, with great art. Of course she said: 'Oh, how perfectly lovely! Oh, I must have some of those!' and of course away we both jumped. I let Sheffield get a little ahead and then went carefully around the rock. He bounded gallantly down the face of it until he struck the b.u.t.ter. Then he sat down with a dull, sickening thud;--but he didn't stop there. He glided merrily on, over the blackberry vine, and in among the seductive flowers. He sat still for a minute, and I knew the situation had dawned on him with all its hideous uncertainties. Then he turned himself round, face to the path, and got up carefully and slowly, with a sort of sideways motion. He didn't attempt to pick any flowers. There was a great deal of sympathy expressed above, and inquiries as to whether he was hurt. Meantime I had arrived safely, picked the whole cl.u.s.ter of flowers, and brought them back in triumph.

Sheffield followed me up, and when we moved on, he dropped in behind; he acknowledged the path was too narrow for three.

"On arriving at the foot of the mountain, he leaned up against a big tree, while the buckboards were being manned. The poor girl seemed to be very much worried about him; unnecessarily so, I thought. He a.s.sured her that he was not in the least hurt, but he stuck to the tree nevertheless. There was a bird's nest up in the tree, and I heard d.i.c.k ask Sheffield to climb up and see if there were any eggs in it, to oblige the ladies. I helped the girl into the backboard and climbed in beside her. After every one else had got aboard, the last seat, with d.i.c.k, was good enough for Sheffield. I ran the Paradise industry, without compet.i.tion, all the way home. There seemed to be a certain hitch in it, however, for she kept wondering whether Sheffield was hurt.

The bunch of wild flowers dropped out on the way, and d.i.c.k and I both jumped out and chased it; Sheffield didn't even turn around to see what had fallen. I slapped d.i.c.k on the back as we were picking up the flowers and said: 'She must have an opinion of his manners.' Great Scott! that was all I knew about it!"

Here Stoughton went through the hugging pantomime for the fourteenth time.

"She didn't seem to be very grateful when I brought those flowers back, and wouldn't talk much all the way home. She said she was sure Sheffield was hurt, and all on her account. When we arrived she asked him to dinner. He stayed in the buckboard and drove to his hotel to dress. She didn't ask me to dinner, and, by Jove, she left those flowers over which I had taken so much trouble in the buckboard! I was very grateful to the flowers, nevertheless."

"Well, I don't see where the joke on you comes in," said Holworthy, as Hudson paused.

"Neither did I," answered Hudson. "I thought, in fact, that I had been pretty clever about the whole affair, until--until," he went on, gathering force by the repet.i.tion, "_until the engagement was announced_! By Jove!" hurling his cigar b.u.t.t into the fireplace as the recollection grew on him, "that man and that girl had been engaged all summer; for a week I had been playing smart Alec and steady number three, making her hate the sight of me, while the Yale man was undoubtedly all the time laughing in his sleeve at seeing me make a fool of myself."

"Go on," commanded the relentless Stoughton. "Go on, there is an epilogue,--or do you want me to tell it?"

"No, I'll do the whole thing," said Hudson, humbly. "When d.i.c.k and I went round to call after the announcement, and congratulate Sheffield, my little friend Freddy came running into the room. 'Oh, Mr. Hudson,' he shouted, 'isn't it fun! Now we know why Nell got so mad about my bothering Joe. Joe's very nice, but really I would rather have had you, and I told her so.'"

"That wasn't all he said," remarked d.i.c.k, "but I'll let you off the rest. I'll hold it over you for future occasions."

When Rattleton returned from New Haven a few days later, he announced at the table that his friend Sheffield was coming up for Cla.s.s Day, with his _fiancee_. He had sent a special message to Hudson to say that they were going to bring Freddy, because Freddy was crazy to see Harvard, and Hudson had promised to show him all over college and take him into all the clubs.

"Whew!" whistled Hudson; "d---- that horrid little boy."

THE DAYS OF RECKONING.

June, June, beautiful, glowing, fascinating June, no doubt thou art tired of hearing thy charms sung by lovers more eloquent than I, but forgive this outburst from one who has known thee in the shades of Cambridge. Never art thou more seductive than where the old walls and stately elm trees trace their cool outlines on the turf of the Yard, where the earnest, eager students, p.r.o.ne on the greensward, blow upon blades of gra.s.s between their thumbs, and bet on sparrow fights and caterpillar races. The tennis-courts are alive; there are ball games on Holmes' Field, and the river winding through the green-flowing meadow (the tide being high and the mud covered) is dotted with swift-gliding sh.e.l.ls. In the long-fading twilight the bright-beflannelled and straw-behatted groups sit upon the fences, and lounge about the streets, trying to screw up enough energy to disperse to their rooms, and study for the--FINALS.

Ah, June, that is the one worm i' the bud of thy beauty! It is hard, indeed, to eschew the racquet and the oar; to go over to the Library at an early hour and hunt up Story on the _Const.i.tution_, or Dana's _Wheaton_, or Ruskin's _Stones_; to find it seized, and promised to five other men before yourself; to seek a retired alcove less hot than the rest of the drowsy place, and there, taking off your coat, to doze over a volume until four o'clock, when the reserved books may be taken out; then to carry a huge book over to your room, and with an awakening cigar, grind until dinner-time; to go at it again in the evening when the scent of early summer drifts through the open window, together with the singing and laughter of some inconsiderate jacka.s.s who has finished his examinations, or does not care whether he gets through them or not.

Hard is all this, but still, oh, June, I would woo thee again in those shades even in that wise; for, perchance, I might finish my examinations early and then would I enjoy life to its fullest, and make it miserable for my less fortunate friends. I would join with those who had also finished their work, and we would have a grand reaction. We would urge the others to join us on the river and the tennis-courts; we would sing in the Yard of evenings, and the free would put their heads out of window and cry "More! More!!" while the still grinding slaves would cry "Shut up!" and other things that I should grieve to hear and will not state; and if haply we sat upon the steps of Matthews or of Holworthy, or any where within range, these same scurvy slaves would throw pitchers of water and other things, even eggs kept for the purpose, until we untrammelled souls betook ourselves elsewhere. Then would we go to the "pop" concert, or the Howard Athenaeum, or other abode of intellectual rest; and after that we would sup with great mirth. We would found a recuperating club for weary minds, and as each friend threw off the yoke and joined us, we would receive him with becoming ceremonies. Oh! the last week before Cla.s.s Day is well worth the pains of the other three.

"What is so rare as a day in June!" carolled Hudson joyfully, as he danced into his room and thumped Burleigh on the back.

"One in February," growled that portly gentleman, "there are two less of 'em in the year. Now look here; if you are going to kick up a row because you are all through, just get out of here, and make your ill-timed noise somewhere else."

"Don't be so sour. Hullo, Lazy Jack; these be hard times for you, old b.u.t.terfly. How many more have you got?"

"Five," sighed Jack. "Pol. Econ. 23, Fine Arts, Freshman English, and two entrance conditions."

"Great Scott! The way of the transgressor _is_ hard."

"Clear out of here," commanded Burleigh. "I am coaching this man Rattleton, and I don't want any interruption in my private tutoring. Get out," and Ned hove a dictionary at his exuberant room-mate.

"Oh, if you are laboring with Jack, I won't interfere with the good work of the Rattleton Rescue Mission," said Hudson, dodging the dictionary and taking himself off to irritate some one else.

Ned Burleigh was never in such a mood about his own examinations. He was one of the few men for whom those trials had no terrors. None of his friends could tell exactly when he did work for an examination; it might have been at 4 A.M. on the same morning after a supper; it might have been on the train during an inter-exam. excursion to Newport, or on a cat-boat cruise in the harbor. Yet he had never failed. He used to say that to know too much about a course made the examinations mere drudgery, but that when there was an uncertainty, then there was some sport in the struggle, some excitement as to whether you could throw the paper or the paper would throw you. That was all very well for him, who generally "ragged a B." and never got "flunked," but it was a dangerous attempt for most men to follow his example.

This year, however, Ned was devoting himself to Jack Rattleton. It was a serious case with Jack, for he had any number of conditions to work off, so many, in fact, that every one was rather astonished at his attempt to retrieve his degree, and at the unwonted, desperate efforts of Lazy Jack. It was a forlorn hope, and the betting was heavily against him.

Under any circ.u.mstances Ned Burleigh would have done all he could to help poor Jack pull through, but, added to his unselfish interest in his friend, were pride in his pupil and the fact that he had taken some of the long odds against him. Nor could Jack have found a better coach in the most high-priced tutor in Cambridge. With a thorough knowledge of the courses he had taken, Ned combined a knowledge of the presiding minds in those courses, and, moreover, he understood perfectly the science of pa.s.sing an examination.

"Now, Jack," he said, "you know the important points and main definitions in that course pretty well. Just remember that all that is good is Greek, and all that is Greek is good, and no modern work from the Brooklyn Bridge to a beer mug is worthy of aught save the abhorrence of cultivated men. If the exam is in Sever, you might throw in an allusion to the draughts and foul air in that modern pile of bricks. Now how about Pol. Econ. 23? Let's see, does Jowler give that still? Well, you are morally certain to have a question on the Tariff of '46--that is his pet. Be certain that the country has never been more prosperous than under that tariff. Of course, there was the discovery of gold and other causes of prosperity at the same time, but unless you know all about them, and can explain them away, don't touch on them at all. Jowler is a free trader, bear that in mind. I will do him the justice to say that he would be delighted if you knew enough about the course and were clever enough to make any strong points for protection; but you are not, so don't try it. Stick to plain, first principles, and show that the country is going to the devil."

"Gad, Ned," said Rattleton, shaking his head in mournful admiration, "it is a great thing to have learned so much. I have wasted my advantages awfully."

"Constant application, my son," quoth Burleigh, (who for three years had been on the ragged edge of probation, and had been saved only by his high marks), "strict attendance on lectures, and careful attention to the great men under whom it is our privilege to sit. Even if you never go near the library, you can learn much in the lecture-room. Now I must leave you; I am going to a seminar over in College House."

"All right, I have got to leave, too," said Jack, looking at his watch.

"There is a grinding bee in entrance Greek, in Jim de Laye's room--lot of foolish virgins like myself, who have put off the job until Senior year, and are doing their school work now. By the way, I promised to collar a mucker to drive the horse."

"Get my friend, Mr. James Casey; very intelligent young man; understands the job thoroughly. You will undoubtedly find him playing duck-on-a-rock in a vacant lot back of Holyoke, or badgering the Dago fruit-man on the corner. If you don't find him, drop a package of cigarettes somewhere, and watch it; you will catch a mucker right away."