CHAPTER XXVJACK HOBART'S PROPOSITIONJack Hobart's recovery was rapid. The fear which Doctor Leslie had first felt that there might be some internal injuries was soon dispelled, and though the shock to Jack's system had been severe, his sturdy frame soon asserted itself, and very soon he was pronounced out of all danger.The spring and early summer days almost seemed to rush past Ward Hill, so swiftly did they go. Each day was filled with its routine work, and as he was working hard to pass Berry in his class, he had little inclination or time to devote to outside matters.The boy, however, was no book-worn, or "dig," as the Weston boys designated one who was devoted to books alone, and the class meetings, frequent now that the end of the year was so near, the school life, and the companionship of the boys all appealed to him strongly.But even stronger than his desire to win a high standing in his scholarship was his determination to carry off the prize in declamation. In lieu of the ordinary "graduating exercises," there was each year a contest for two prizes, in which all of the seniors and a few of the boys in the class below them whose standing was sufficiently high were permitted to compete. Preliminary contests were held and the number of contestants was somewhat decreased before the final trial occurred.Ward and Henry already had succeeded in passing the first of these trials and were sure of a place on the program for the final and deciding contest. This was to occur in the evening of the last day of the term, and many of the parents and friends of the boys, as well as a large number of former students who came back to revisit the scenes of their school-days and perhaps strive to catch something of the contagion of the spirit of life and enthusiasm, were expected to be present. Jack Hobart was not to compete for the prize, as he had but little ability in that line; but he was almost as much interested in Ward's success as he would have been in his own. Together they went almost every afternoon to one of the secluded spots on the hillsides, and while Ward awakened the echoes by his eloquence, Jack sat by and listened in solemn admiration or passed such criticisms as occurred to him, and Ward found his friend's suggestions frequently of great value.Only a week remained now before the prize speaking was to take place. Ward and Jack were returning from their daily visit to the woods, and as they walked on their thoughts naturally reflected their feelings."I don't know how it is," Jack was saying, "but somehow I have a mighty queer feeling at the close of this year. This makes four years I have been in the Weston school, and any one would naturally think I'd be glad to be out of it. Of course in a way I am, but somehow I'm broken up by it too. The first thing I do every morning is to take a good look at the Hump. The old hill is always there just the same, but I'm half afraid every morning to look out for fear he's hidden himself somewhere.""It's become a part of your life, I fancy," said Ward soberly. "Last year when the end came, it almost seemed to me as if the mountains here were frowning upon me, but this year they seem like steps or ladders up to something better.""And they are," said Jack enthusiastically. "I suppose we're somewhat broken up to think the end has come and that we've got to scatter now. Some of the fellows I sha'n't feel very bad about leaving, but when I think of some of the others, it almost seems to me as if I just couldn't go on without them, and that is all there is to it. It just seems to me, Ward, as if I couldn't go on without you. I don't believe, old fellow, you ever realized how much you are to me. I never had a brother; but it seems to me, Ward, that if we had both had the same father and same mother we couldn't be more to each other."Jack was evidently affected, and Ward's heart responded to that of his impulsive friend in an instant."I never had a brother either, Speck, but I feel as if I had one now." Almost instinctively the boys stopped and clasping hands looked earnestly into each other's face. There was something almost sacred in the hand-clasp, as if it were a pledge of a lifelong love.The love between brother and sister, father and son, mother and daughter, husband and wife, are all sacred and beautiful, but the love between two boys or young men has in it also something that is very nearly sublime. God pity the man who has never known what it was to have a deep-abiding love for another of his own sex. Something is wanting in his make-up to cause such a lack, and his life too will never know the fullness of its best meaning without that experience. Friends and friendship! "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly," wrote a keen observer of men many centuries ago. But with a friendship once formed no true man ever ought to let anything break in upon it.And these lifelong friendships are almost never formed in after years. They come, if they come at all, in the days of boyhood or young manhood. That is the seed-sowing time for friendship, as it is for a good many of the other good things of life."I've been thinking it over a good deal, Ward," said Jack, "and I talked with my mother about it too when she was here. Now you're going on to college and so am I. I don't want to break up what's been begun between us here if it can be avoided. Now you know I did think of going away from home to college, and of course I may do that yet, but whatever comes I want to go with you. You can't tell how you have helped me by the fight you've made this year. I ought to have such a fellow with me all the time. There's no telling what I might do if I had."Ward smiled but made no other reply. Jack's words had stirred him deeply, but he had learned too much in the year that was now almost gone to put a very high estimate upon the value of the "fight" to which his friend referred."What I want to say," said Jack, "if I can only get at it, is, that rather than not be with you I'd be glad to go to the college in my own town and have you come right there and live in our house all through the course. There! I've managed to get it out at last, but that's just exactly what I mean.""You are good to me, Jack," said Ward slowly."That's not it, for you'd be the one to confer the favor, let me tell you. My mother would be only too glad to have you come, for she says that then she'd be sure to have me home for a time. She says my absence, lo, these many years, has been the only 'speck' on her horizon. Now if you'll say the word, it's all settled, college, room, chum, and all.""I hope you won't think me ungrateful, Jack, but I can't answer you now, though honestly I don't believe my father would be willing to accept such a gift. He'll feel proud as a peacock that you thought enough of me to make me such an offer, and he'll appreciate your kindness too; but I don't believe you can understand just how he feels about some things. He wouldn't be quite willing to receive such a favor, I think, unless he saw some way of returning it.""But he would return it and more," said Jack eagerly."I don't just see how.""By letting you come. Your company, and the influence of such a fellow on your humble servant would be something which would be more than just a mere matter of a gift. We'd be so glad to have you, we'd think it a great bargain, and if there's anything in all the world, next to me, my mother loves, it's a bargain."Ward laughed, but Jack was too much in earnest to be turned from his purpose."Let's go over to Mr. Crane's room and talk with him. Will you do it, Ward?""Yes, I'll go over to his room, but I hope you won't think I don't appreciate what you've said, Jack, if I say I can't settle the matter now, and that I am more than half afraid my father won't agree to it, though I know he'll thank you.""I don't expect you to give in at once," said Jack. "It's asking too much. But come on! We'll go right over to Mr. Crane's room now."Whatever the impulsive lad wished to do must be done at once, and as Ward consented, in a few minutes both of them were seated in the teacher's room."We want to know, Mr. Crane," said Jack, not broaching his project at once, "what you think about colleges. We want to get your opinion, if you're willing to give it to us.""What I think about college?" replied Mr. Crane. "I thought you understood pretty well what my opinion about that was, long before this time. You know I am a strong believer in every boy going who can do so without too great a strain upon his parents.""That isn't exactly what I mean," said Jack. "We both of us know how you feel about that. But what college do you prefer?""That depends. I prefer some colleges for certain boys and should advise others to go to different ones. It is impossible to formulate a fixed rule for every case.""But which is better, a large college or small?""Again, that depends," replied Mr. Crane with a smile. "If a boy has means, and his character is fairly well developed when he goes so that he will not be likely to be lost in the crowd, undoubtedly he can gain certain advantages in some of the larger colleges he never could find in the smaller. Their larger endowments and better equipments are certainly no small matter to be considered. On the other hand, if a boy is somewhat diffident and immature and needs bringing out more than he needs to be filled, doubtless he would do better in a small college. There is more of the personal contact there between the student and his teachers, and his own individual needs are looked to much better. In general, I may say if what a boy needs is the development of himself, the smaller college will do more for him. If what he needs is not so much the bringing out of himself as the filling up, the larger college is the place for him.""That places Jack and me in two different classes, then," said Ward."I am not so sure of that," replied Mr. Crane. "You have both of you been away to school now, and have been thrown back upon yourselves. You have learned to depend upon your own efforts, and I do not regard it as in the least probable that either of you would be swallowed up and lost in the crowd in a large college. It is no slight advantage to have had two years at Weston before you go.""I wish we could keep right on at Weston, and not have to go anywhere else," said Jack."No, I hardly think you really wish that, Hobart. Of course, now that you are about to leave us you forget all the unpleasant things and remember only the pleasant ones. I would not have it otherwise, and trust that some of us will still be a part of your lives, even when you are apart from us. But when one becomes a man he is compelled to leave childish things. All that you have been doing has been leading up to this time, and now you must face it.""Of course I know that must be so," said Jack quietly, "and I suppose if we really thought we should have to come back we wouldn't like it a little bit. But what I really wanted to know, Mr. Crane, was what you thought about Ward coming down and living with me in my home and going to college there with me."Ward's face flushed slightly, and he added: "Jack hasn't told it all. What he wants is for me to live with him and not to pay anything for the privilege.""That isn't----" began Jack.Mr. Crane interrupted him and said: "I think I understand; but it's a question in which I fancy others besides you boys may be interested.""That's just it," said Jack quickly, "My mother wants him even more than I do.""But there's my father to be thought of too," said Ward. "He may not want me to do it.""Precisely," said Mr. Crane. "That's a question I cannot answer. You see I am the one being examined now, and you are the examiners; and I have failed.""There's some hope for me then if the teachers themselves fail," said Jack laughingly."Personally I never had that feeling others describe as being unwilling to accept a favor," said Mr. Crane. "Few of these so-called 'favors' are all on one side. They are almost always a species of 'give and take.' However, I am no judge for others, and sometimes think I have more than I can do to look after myself. I shall be interested to learn your decision."The boys departed, and soon after went to their own rooms with the problem still unsolved.Ward was deeply touched by Jack's offer and his eagerness for him to accept it. If he should do so, he well knew what a load would be lifted from his father's shoulders, but still he thought he understood what his father's decision would be.The few remaining days of the term now rapidly came. Ward was working busily and the visits to the glen with Jack increased. He was more anxious than he cared to show about the prize for declamation, but his anxiety only served to increase his labors. Henry was to compete also, but somehow the boys did not often refer to the contest in the other's presence. The best of feeling prevailed, but both were eager to win, although if either lost he sincerely desired the other to win.On Monday, the visitors in the village began rapidly to increase. "Old boys," as the students called the former students, many of them now gray-haired men and coming up to Weston with their own sons or grandsons, arrived by every bus. The parents and sisters, and brothers of the graduating class also came, and the beauty of the little village was greatly enhanced by the bright apparel of the girls and the interested groups of the visitors who wandered about among the school buildings or along the wide streets.When Ward's father and mother came, the welcome they received from him was far different from that he had given them in the preceding year. He was all eagerness, and his happiness was so apparent that it speedily became contagious, and as he brought the boys up to meet his father and mother his heart was overflowing as he heard the warm words for him on almost every side.On Tuesday night the contest for the prize in declamation was to be held. As the hour approached Ward's excitement became greater, although his outward calm was not disturbed. A great audience assembled to listen to the boys, and at last Doctor Gray, who presided, advanced to the front of the platform to announce the first speaker of the evening.CHAPTER XXVICONCLUSIONWard, with the other speakers, was waiting in the rear of the platform, but the printed program informed each when his time was to come, and so each was striving to possess his soul in patience.Berry was the first to be called, and as Ward peered out at him as he advanced to the front of the platform, bowed gracefully to Dr. Gray, and then turned to face the audience, he almost envied him his self-possession and ease.Soon, however, the boy was speaking, and as he went on even Ward felt deeply interested in what he was saying. When his declamation was ended and a storm of applause broke forth, Ward felt as if there was little use in trying to compete with Berry, and as he rejoined his companions in the rear of the platform Ward was the first to congratulate him upon his success.And his expressions were genuine and hearty too, for while Ward with all his heart desired to win the prize, he had now no feeling of bitterness toward his competitors.Ripley was the next speaker, but Ward at once perceived that he was far below Berry in his hold upon the audience, and indeed among those who followed only Pond seemed in any way likely to be a close competitor for the prize.Ward's name was the last on the list, and when he heard his name announced and walked slowly forward, he was somehow conscious that the audience was becoming somewhat wearied and restless.His appearance, however, served to arouse the younger portion at least, and a faint murmur of applause was heard as he bowed low to his hearers. This was quickly hushed and Ward for the first time looked directly at his audience.He was conscious only of an indiscriminate mass of faces at first all turned toward him. It seemed to him as if he must have more air. His breath would not come and he felt as if he were choking. For a moment every sentence of his declamation departed and he could not recall even the first and opening words.His momentary hesitation was not noticed or perhaps perceived by his audience, however, or it may have been that they considered his hesitancy as only a deliberate movement on his part. It seemed to the frightened boy as if something were clutching him by the throat. Everything turned black before him, and he almost felt that he must cry aloud in his misery. Abject failure seemed to stare him in the face.Suddenly he caught sight of Mr. Crane seated about half-way back in the audience, and then right near him were his father and mother and Jack. The last was leaning forward and regarding him with breathless interest, and the sight instantly restored Ward's self-possession. The words of his declamation instantly flashed into his mind and in a low, clear voice he began to speak.All his previous confusion which to him had seemed to cover hours, had in reality lasted but a moment, and as has been said, was not noted by his audience. But as soon as he heard the sound of his own voice all his "stage fright" was forgotten and his whole soul was in his immediate task. Yet out of all the audience Ward seemed to be aware only of the presence of Mr. Crane. To him he was speaking, and almost as if he was to be the deciding judge he addressed himself to the teacher. Whenever he changed his position or faced other portions of the assembly he saw no one distinctly and soon returned to his favorite teacher. To him he spoke, for him he exerted himself, his praise was to be his exceeding great reward.And Ward Hill threw himself without reserve into his speaking. It seemed to him as if every word was his own, and he must make his hearers see what he saw and believe as he believed. The audience became more and more silent, and almost no one removed his eyes from the eager, animated, manly-appearing boy.As he went on his eagerness increased and the interest of his hearers increased also. Ward almost forgot every one except Mr. Crane, and as he felt rather than saw the intense interest of his teacher, he responded to it instantly. There was no hesitation, no faltering, no lack of words now. His face was glowing, his movements animated, and his every gesture counted.When at last he had finished and paused a moment before he made his final bow, there was a silence in the room that was most intense. But the instant he turned to depart from the platform the pent-up feelings of the audience broke forth and a storm of applause followed him which continued long after he had rejoined his competitors behind the scenes."You did nobly, Ward," said Pond eagerly, as he grasped the hand of the flushed and excited boy. "Not much show for us, is there, Berry?" he added, as Berry pressed forward to add his congratulations."I'm afraid not," replied Berry. "I never heard any one do better, Ward."They all instantly became silent as Dr. Gray arose to speak. He spoke some warm words of praise for the work which had been done that year, and then announced the honors of the graduating class.Pond stood at the head, and although the audience applauded heartily, the announcement created little interest, as the popular boy's position had been a forgone conclusion. Berry was second and Ward was third. The applause which followed had hardly begun before Ward rushed forward to congratulate the boys who had outstripped him."Lucky for us, Ward, that you didn't work last year as you have this. I'm afraid we wouldn't have stood a very good chance if you had," said Pond.Ward laughed as he said: "To tell the truth, boys, I should be glad to have stood first, of course, but there was not much chance for me with the load I had to carry. Perhaps I learned more, though, by my failures than I would have if I had worked as hard last year as I have this. The wound is healed but the scar is left, you see. But honestly, fellows, I'm glad you are the ones to go ahead if I couldn't.""Hush, boys! Here comes the committee to report their decision," said Berry.The suspense and interest were manifest in the hush which fell over all as the chairman of the committee who was to award the prize for the best declamation now returned to the platform and signified his readiness to make the report.As in duty bound the man first referred to his own school days in Weston, now far back in the years, and noted the many changes which had taken place. Then he went on to speak in glowing terms of the exercises of the evening, and when he came to the remark which almost every chairman had made for years, that "seldom from any college platform had he heard better speaking," a smile crept over the faces of many who heard him."And now," resumed the speaker, "we are to report on the exercises of this evening. If it had been in our power we should have been glad to award the first place to every boy on the program, much as Artemus Ward made each man in his company a brigadier general. But as that is impossible, we are compelled to do the next best thing and use our judgment in selecting the speaker who seems best entitled to the award and to the reward.""Bother his long speeches," said Berry in a low voice. "Why can't he say what he has to say and be done with it?"The three boys were standing together just out of the sight of the audience, and with breathless interest were peering forward and listening to the speaker."As to the award of the first prize, there has not been much difference of opinion."The man was speaking again and the boys at once became silent and intent upon his words."We have decided that the first prize, in view of the points we have marked, namely: forcefulness, clearness of enunciation, gracefulness, and self-possession, and the interpretation of the piece, belongs to--Ward Hill."The words had hardly been uttered before a loud burst of applause broke forth from the audience. Jack in his enthusiasm stood up on his seat and threw his hat into the air, but a quiet touch by Mr. Crane recalled him to the proprieties of the occasion. The applause, however, was long continued and hearty, and showed that plainly the assembly concurred in the decision.Ward felt the blood surge up in his face and as Berry patted him upon the shoulder, and Pond's glance betrayed his feeling, Ward felt that never before had he been so happy."The second prize," resumed the chairman as the audience at last became quiet, "has been a little more difficult to award. The nearly equal excellence of two of the speakers has led us at last to divide the prize. The second prize is therefore awarded to Lucius Berry and Frederick Pond."Again the applause broke forth, genuine and long continued, and was redoubled when the three boys advanced to receive their prizes.Ward glanced down at his father and mother and as he plainly saw them stealthily wiping their eyes, he felt a suspicious moisture creeping into his own. How different it all was from the close of the preceding year! It had been a long, hard struggle, but he had been well repaid in the happiness which had come to his parents, and in which he fully shared.He was only partially aware of what followed. He knew that the audience had been dismissed and that many of the boys crowded about him with their words of congratulation and praise. He heard Mr. Crane's quiet words of praise too, and the warm grasp of the hand which was the sole expression of his father at the time was inexpressibly dear to him. His heart seemed to be overflowing and the long-continued effort of the year had brought him its reward; far more than the prize he had received was the satisfaction of having faced his difficulties and conquered in the struggle.At last all the audience was gone, and Jack and Ward started slowly up the street together."It's been a great night," said Jack: "and, Ward, you have done nobly. Everybody is proud of you. But do you know, I'm not thinking of the prize you took.""What are you thinking of?" said Ward quietly. His own mind had not been dwelling upon the prize either."I was thinking of the way in which you have faced the school, the work, and yourself, this year. I think I know something of what it has cost you. It's been a big price, but it was worth it."Ward made no reply, although his heart responded warmly to his friend's words. He thought he too knew what he had lost and what he had gained; but he could not speak of either."Now, Ward," resumed Jack, "you've had a chance to talk with your father. What does he say about my proposition for next year?""Jack, old fellow, he was deeply touched, but he doesn't think it will do.""Is he afraid to have you with me?""No, no; not a bit. That isn't it, but he wants me to go to another college." Ward did not refer to the other fact of which he was well aware, that his father was not willing for him to accept so great a favor at the hands of another, when he had no means of returning it."That's all right, then," said Jack; "but you haven't got rid of me yet. I'm going where you go, and I'm going with you too. Wouldn't it be a fine thing if Luscious and Henry and you and I could get some rooms together? Then, if Pond and one or two of the other fellows could go up to the same college we'd be all fixed out, wouldn't we? Say, Ward, let's fix that up, will you?" And all of the eagerness and impulsiveness of Jack's nature seemed to find expression in his words."It would be fine," replied Ward. "We'll have to talk that up."The few remaining days of the closing week passed rapidly, and to Ward it seemed as if he were almost in a dream. The attentions he received, the words of love and praise spoken by nearly every one, his pride in his success, and above all the satisfaction in his own soul, arising from the consciousness that he had done his best, were with him all the time.The last interview with Mr. Crane affected him deeply. He and Jack went up together for the parting, and it seemed to them as if the quiet dignity and warm heart of the loved teacher were never more apparent."It's a sad break in some ways to us who are to remain," said Mr. Crane. "You can't understand it, but it seems to me as if you were my younger brothers, and the home life was being broken. There will be something lacking next year. Not that we shall not have other boys whom we shall love and in whom we shall be interested, but they will not fully take the place of those who have left. Weston is all the home I know and perhaps shall ever know, and while I never may have any boys of my own, I trust you will always let me feel at least like an older brother to each of you.""Mr. Crane, we owe everything to you," said Ward with shining eyes."If I have aided you, then pay the debt by aiding others," replied Mr. Crane softly. "Weston is only a stopping-place, not the end of the journey, and there is work for you to do. Some one else needs the helping hand, and yours I know will not be held back. I shall want to hear from you often and shall follow you with interest as long as I live. Whatever else you may become, I know you will be men!""I trust so," said Ward, and when for the last time he grasped Mr. Crane's hand and returned the pressure, his eyes were moist and his heart went out to the noble teacher with a great love, which never ended.Even Mr. Blake was visited by the boys that night, and much of their dislike for him was forgotten in the fullness of their hearts. All the world looked bright and there was no room for anything but peace and good-will to all men.On the following day, the last good-byes were spoken and they knew as they started for their homes, that the end of their lives and work at Weston had come. The peaceful valley, bathed in the sunlight of the early summer morning, smiled upon them. Around it were the hills, the everlasting hills, which would beam upon the coming generations of boys, who might never know of the struggles and triumphs, the failures and success of Ward Hill; but as for the last time he looked back upon the familiar scenes he felt that in a peculiar sense they were his own personal possessions. He might not return to them, but they would not depart from him."We'll meet again," said Jack when the school cheer had been given for the last time on the platform of the little station at Dorrfield.Were his words true? Certainly in the college days there was ample opportunity to test the truthfulness of his prophecy, and as a record of those days has been kept as well as of the visits to the old familiar scenes at Weston, perhaps some of our readers may be sufficiently interested to desire to follow their fortunes in----WARD HILL AT COLLEGE.* * * * * * * *The Outdoor ChumsSERIESByCAPTAIN QUINCY ALLENThe Outdoor ChumsOn the LakeIn the ForestOn the GulfAfter Big GameOn A House BoatIn the Big WoodsAt Cabin PointFor lovers of the great outdoors (and what boy is not?) this "Outdoor Chums" series will be a rare treat. After you have read the first book and followed the fortunes of the "Chums," you will realize the pleasure the other seven volumes have in store for you.These rollicking lads know field, forest, mountain, sea and stream--and the books contain much valuable information on woodcraft and the living of an outdoor life.The Goldsmith Publishing Co.CLEVELAND, O.* * * * *The Musket BoysSERIESByGEORGE A. WARRENThe Musket Boys of Old BostonThe Musket Boys Under WashingtonThe Musket Boys on the DelawareStirring times were these--and stirring deeds made boys into men before their time.Against the picturesque background of the revolutionary war, George A. Warren tells a tale of heroism and patriotism of the boys of long ago who heard the call of their country and rallied to the colors.What trials of valor and responsibilities beyond their years comes to "The Musket Boys" is told in an enthralling manner.The Goldsmith Publishing Co.CLEVELAND, O.*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKWARD HILL THE SENIOR***
CHAPTER XXV
JACK HOBART'S PROPOSITION
Jack Hobart's recovery was rapid. The fear which Doctor Leslie had first felt that there might be some internal injuries was soon dispelled, and though the shock to Jack's system had been severe, his sturdy frame soon asserted itself, and very soon he was pronounced out of all danger.
The spring and early summer days almost seemed to rush past Ward Hill, so swiftly did they go. Each day was filled with its routine work, and as he was working hard to pass Berry in his class, he had little inclination or time to devote to outside matters.
The boy, however, was no book-worn, or "dig," as the Weston boys designated one who was devoted to books alone, and the class meetings, frequent now that the end of the year was so near, the school life, and the companionship of the boys all appealed to him strongly.
But even stronger than his desire to win a high standing in his scholarship was his determination to carry off the prize in declamation. In lieu of the ordinary "graduating exercises," there was each year a contest for two prizes, in which all of the seniors and a few of the boys in the class below them whose standing was sufficiently high were permitted to compete. Preliminary contests were held and the number of contestants was somewhat decreased before the final trial occurred.
Ward and Henry already had succeeded in passing the first of these trials and were sure of a place on the program for the final and deciding contest. This was to occur in the evening of the last day of the term, and many of the parents and friends of the boys, as well as a large number of former students who came back to revisit the scenes of their school-days and perhaps strive to catch something of the contagion of the spirit of life and enthusiasm, were expected to be present. Jack Hobart was not to compete for the prize, as he had but little ability in that line; but he was almost as much interested in Ward's success as he would have been in his own. Together they went almost every afternoon to one of the secluded spots on the hillsides, and while Ward awakened the echoes by his eloquence, Jack sat by and listened in solemn admiration or passed such criticisms as occurred to him, and Ward found his friend's suggestions frequently of great value.
Only a week remained now before the prize speaking was to take place. Ward and Jack were returning from their daily visit to the woods, and as they walked on their thoughts naturally reflected their feelings.
"I don't know how it is," Jack was saying, "but somehow I have a mighty queer feeling at the close of this year. This makes four years I have been in the Weston school, and any one would naturally think I'd be glad to be out of it. Of course in a way I am, but somehow I'm broken up by it too. The first thing I do every morning is to take a good look at the Hump. The old hill is always there just the same, but I'm half afraid every morning to look out for fear he's hidden himself somewhere."
"It's become a part of your life, I fancy," said Ward soberly. "Last year when the end came, it almost seemed to me as if the mountains here were frowning upon me, but this year they seem like steps or ladders up to something better."
"And they are," said Jack enthusiastically. "I suppose we're somewhat broken up to think the end has come and that we've got to scatter now. Some of the fellows I sha'n't feel very bad about leaving, but when I think of some of the others, it almost seems to me as if I just couldn't go on without them, and that is all there is to it. It just seems to me, Ward, as if I couldn't go on without you. I don't believe, old fellow, you ever realized how much you are to me. I never had a brother; but it seems to me, Ward, that if we had both had the same father and same mother we couldn't be more to each other."
Jack was evidently affected, and Ward's heart responded to that of his impulsive friend in an instant.
"I never had a brother either, Speck, but I feel as if I had one now." Almost instinctively the boys stopped and clasping hands looked earnestly into each other's face. There was something almost sacred in the hand-clasp, as if it were a pledge of a lifelong love.
The love between brother and sister, father and son, mother and daughter, husband and wife, are all sacred and beautiful, but the love between two boys or young men has in it also something that is very nearly sublime. God pity the man who has never known what it was to have a deep-abiding love for another of his own sex. Something is wanting in his make-up to cause such a lack, and his life too will never know the fullness of its best meaning without that experience. Friends and friendship! "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly," wrote a keen observer of men many centuries ago. But with a friendship once formed no true man ever ought to let anything break in upon it.
And these lifelong friendships are almost never formed in after years. They come, if they come at all, in the days of boyhood or young manhood. That is the seed-sowing time for friendship, as it is for a good many of the other good things of life.
"I've been thinking it over a good deal, Ward," said Jack, "and I talked with my mother about it too when she was here. Now you're going on to college and so am I. I don't want to break up what's been begun between us here if it can be avoided. Now you know I did think of going away from home to college, and of course I may do that yet, but whatever comes I want to go with you. You can't tell how you have helped me by the fight you've made this year. I ought to have such a fellow with me all the time. There's no telling what I might do if I had."
Ward smiled but made no other reply. Jack's words had stirred him deeply, but he had learned too much in the year that was now almost gone to put a very high estimate upon the value of the "fight" to which his friend referred.
"What I want to say," said Jack, "if I can only get at it, is, that rather than not be with you I'd be glad to go to the college in my own town and have you come right there and live in our house all through the course. There! I've managed to get it out at last, but that's just exactly what I mean."
"You are good to me, Jack," said Ward slowly.
"That's not it, for you'd be the one to confer the favor, let me tell you. My mother would be only too glad to have you come, for she says that then she'd be sure to have me home for a time. She says my absence, lo, these many years, has been the only 'speck' on her horizon. Now if you'll say the word, it's all settled, college, room, chum, and all."
"I hope you won't think me ungrateful, Jack, but I can't answer you now, though honestly I don't believe my father would be willing to accept such a gift. He'll feel proud as a peacock that you thought enough of me to make me such an offer, and he'll appreciate your kindness too; but I don't believe you can understand just how he feels about some things. He wouldn't be quite willing to receive such a favor, I think, unless he saw some way of returning it."
"But he would return it and more," said Jack eagerly.
"I don't just see how."
"By letting you come. Your company, and the influence of such a fellow on your humble servant would be something which would be more than just a mere matter of a gift. We'd be so glad to have you, we'd think it a great bargain, and if there's anything in all the world, next to me, my mother loves, it's a bargain."
Ward laughed, but Jack was too much in earnest to be turned from his purpose.
"Let's go over to Mr. Crane's room and talk with him. Will you do it, Ward?"
"Yes, I'll go over to his room, but I hope you won't think I don't appreciate what you've said, Jack, if I say I can't settle the matter now, and that I am more than half afraid my father won't agree to it, though I know he'll thank you."
"I don't expect you to give in at once," said Jack. "It's asking too much. But come on! We'll go right over to Mr. Crane's room now."
Whatever the impulsive lad wished to do must be done at once, and as Ward consented, in a few minutes both of them were seated in the teacher's room.
"We want to know, Mr. Crane," said Jack, not broaching his project at once, "what you think about colleges. We want to get your opinion, if you're willing to give it to us."
"What I think about college?" replied Mr. Crane. "I thought you understood pretty well what my opinion about that was, long before this time. You know I am a strong believer in every boy going who can do so without too great a strain upon his parents."
"That isn't exactly what I mean," said Jack. "We both of us know how you feel about that. But what college do you prefer?"
"That depends. I prefer some colleges for certain boys and should advise others to go to different ones. It is impossible to formulate a fixed rule for every case."
"But which is better, a large college or small?"
"Again, that depends," replied Mr. Crane with a smile. "If a boy has means, and his character is fairly well developed when he goes so that he will not be likely to be lost in the crowd, undoubtedly he can gain certain advantages in some of the larger colleges he never could find in the smaller. Their larger endowments and better equipments are certainly no small matter to be considered. On the other hand, if a boy is somewhat diffident and immature and needs bringing out more than he needs to be filled, doubtless he would do better in a small college. There is more of the personal contact there between the student and his teachers, and his own individual needs are looked to much better. In general, I may say if what a boy needs is the development of himself, the smaller college will do more for him. If what he needs is not so much the bringing out of himself as the filling up, the larger college is the place for him."
"That places Jack and me in two different classes, then," said Ward.
"I am not so sure of that," replied Mr. Crane. "You have both of you been away to school now, and have been thrown back upon yourselves. You have learned to depend upon your own efforts, and I do not regard it as in the least probable that either of you would be swallowed up and lost in the crowd in a large college. It is no slight advantage to have had two years at Weston before you go."
"I wish we could keep right on at Weston, and not have to go anywhere else," said Jack.
"No, I hardly think you really wish that, Hobart. Of course, now that you are about to leave us you forget all the unpleasant things and remember only the pleasant ones. I would not have it otherwise, and trust that some of us will still be a part of your lives, even when you are apart from us. But when one becomes a man he is compelled to leave childish things. All that you have been doing has been leading up to this time, and now you must face it."
"Of course I know that must be so," said Jack quietly, "and I suppose if we really thought we should have to come back we wouldn't like it a little bit. But what I really wanted to know, Mr. Crane, was what you thought about Ward coming down and living with me in my home and going to college there with me."
Ward's face flushed slightly, and he added: "Jack hasn't told it all. What he wants is for me to live with him and not to pay anything for the privilege."
"That isn't----" began Jack.
Mr. Crane interrupted him and said: "I think I understand; but it's a question in which I fancy others besides you boys may be interested."
"That's just it," said Jack quickly, "My mother wants him even more than I do."
"But there's my father to be thought of too," said Ward. "He may not want me to do it."
"Precisely," said Mr. Crane. "That's a question I cannot answer. You see I am the one being examined now, and you are the examiners; and I have failed."
"There's some hope for me then if the teachers themselves fail," said Jack laughingly.
"Personally I never had that feeling others describe as being unwilling to accept a favor," said Mr. Crane. "Few of these so-called 'favors' are all on one side. They are almost always a species of 'give and take.' However, I am no judge for others, and sometimes think I have more than I can do to look after myself. I shall be interested to learn your decision."
The boys departed, and soon after went to their own rooms with the problem still unsolved.
Ward was deeply touched by Jack's offer and his eagerness for him to accept it. If he should do so, he well knew what a load would be lifted from his father's shoulders, but still he thought he understood what his father's decision would be.
The few remaining days of the term now rapidly came. Ward was working busily and the visits to the glen with Jack increased. He was more anxious than he cared to show about the prize for declamation, but his anxiety only served to increase his labors. Henry was to compete also, but somehow the boys did not often refer to the contest in the other's presence. The best of feeling prevailed, but both were eager to win, although if either lost he sincerely desired the other to win.
On Monday, the visitors in the village began rapidly to increase. "Old boys," as the students called the former students, many of them now gray-haired men and coming up to Weston with their own sons or grandsons, arrived by every bus. The parents and sisters, and brothers of the graduating class also came, and the beauty of the little village was greatly enhanced by the bright apparel of the girls and the interested groups of the visitors who wandered about among the school buildings or along the wide streets.
When Ward's father and mother came, the welcome they received from him was far different from that he had given them in the preceding year. He was all eagerness, and his happiness was so apparent that it speedily became contagious, and as he brought the boys up to meet his father and mother his heart was overflowing as he heard the warm words for him on almost every side.
On Tuesday night the contest for the prize in declamation was to be held. As the hour approached Ward's excitement became greater, although his outward calm was not disturbed. A great audience assembled to listen to the boys, and at last Doctor Gray, who presided, advanced to the front of the platform to announce the first speaker of the evening.
CHAPTER XXVI
CONCLUSION
Ward, with the other speakers, was waiting in the rear of the platform, but the printed program informed each when his time was to come, and so each was striving to possess his soul in patience.
Berry was the first to be called, and as Ward peered out at him as he advanced to the front of the platform, bowed gracefully to Dr. Gray, and then turned to face the audience, he almost envied him his self-possession and ease.
Soon, however, the boy was speaking, and as he went on even Ward felt deeply interested in what he was saying. When his declamation was ended and a storm of applause broke forth, Ward felt as if there was little use in trying to compete with Berry, and as he rejoined his companions in the rear of the platform Ward was the first to congratulate him upon his success.
And his expressions were genuine and hearty too, for while Ward with all his heart desired to win the prize, he had now no feeling of bitterness toward his competitors.
Ripley was the next speaker, but Ward at once perceived that he was far below Berry in his hold upon the audience, and indeed among those who followed only Pond seemed in any way likely to be a close competitor for the prize.
Ward's name was the last on the list, and when he heard his name announced and walked slowly forward, he was somehow conscious that the audience was becoming somewhat wearied and restless.
His appearance, however, served to arouse the younger portion at least, and a faint murmur of applause was heard as he bowed low to his hearers. This was quickly hushed and Ward for the first time looked directly at his audience.
He was conscious only of an indiscriminate mass of faces at first all turned toward him. It seemed to him as if he must have more air. His breath would not come and he felt as if he were choking. For a moment every sentence of his declamation departed and he could not recall even the first and opening words.
His momentary hesitation was not noticed or perhaps perceived by his audience, however, or it may have been that they considered his hesitancy as only a deliberate movement on his part. It seemed to the frightened boy as if something were clutching him by the throat. Everything turned black before him, and he almost felt that he must cry aloud in his misery. Abject failure seemed to stare him in the face.
Suddenly he caught sight of Mr. Crane seated about half-way back in the audience, and then right near him were his father and mother and Jack. The last was leaning forward and regarding him with breathless interest, and the sight instantly restored Ward's self-possession. The words of his declamation instantly flashed into his mind and in a low, clear voice he began to speak.
All his previous confusion which to him had seemed to cover hours, had in reality lasted but a moment, and as has been said, was not noted by his audience. But as soon as he heard the sound of his own voice all his "stage fright" was forgotten and his whole soul was in his immediate task. Yet out of all the audience Ward seemed to be aware only of the presence of Mr. Crane. To him he was speaking, and almost as if he was to be the deciding judge he addressed himself to the teacher. Whenever he changed his position or faced other portions of the assembly he saw no one distinctly and soon returned to his favorite teacher. To him he spoke, for him he exerted himself, his praise was to be his exceeding great reward.
And Ward Hill threw himself without reserve into his speaking. It seemed to him as if every word was his own, and he must make his hearers see what he saw and believe as he believed. The audience became more and more silent, and almost no one removed his eyes from the eager, animated, manly-appearing boy.
As he went on his eagerness increased and the interest of his hearers increased also. Ward almost forgot every one except Mr. Crane, and as he felt rather than saw the intense interest of his teacher, he responded to it instantly. There was no hesitation, no faltering, no lack of words now. His face was glowing, his movements animated, and his every gesture counted.
When at last he had finished and paused a moment before he made his final bow, there was a silence in the room that was most intense. But the instant he turned to depart from the platform the pent-up feelings of the audience broke forth and a storm of applause followed him which continued long after he had rejoined his competitors behind the scenes.
"You did nobly, Ward," said Pond eagerly, as he grasped the hand of the flushed and excited boy. "Not much show for us, is there, Berry?" he added, as Berry pressed forward to add his congratulations.
"I'm afraid not," replied Berry. "I never heard any one do better, Ward."
They all instantly became silent as Dr. Gray arose to speak. He spoke some warm words of praise for the work which had been done that year, and then announced the honors of the graduating class.
Pond stood at the head, and although the audience applauded heartily, the announcement created little interest, as the popular boy's position had been a forgone conclusion. Berry was second and Ward was third. The applause which followed had hardly begun before Ward rushed forward to congratulate the boys who had outstripped him.
"Lucky for us, Ward, that you didn't work last year as you have this. I'm afraid we wouldn't have stood a very good chance if you had," said Pond.
Ward laughed as he said: "To tell the truth, boys, I should be glad to have stood first, of course, but there was not much chance for me with the load I had to carry. Perhaps I learned more, though, by my failures than I would have if I had worked as hard last year as I have this. The wound is healed but the scar is left, you see. But honestly, fellows, I'm glad you are the ones to go ahead if I couldn't."
"Hush, boys! Here comes the committee to report their decision," said Berry.
The suspense and interest were manifest in the hush which fell over all as the chairman of the committee who was to award the prize for the best declamation now returned to the platform and signified his readiness to make the report.
As in duty bound the man first referred to his own school days in Weston, now far back in the years, and noted the many changes which had taken place. Then he went on to speak in glowing terms of the exercises of the evening, and when he came to the remark which almost every chairman had made for years, that "seldom from any college platform had he heard better speaking," a smile crept over the faces of many who heard him.
"And now," resumed the speaker, "we are to report on the exercises of this evening. If it had been in our power we should have been glad to award the first place to every boy on the program, much as Artemus Ward made each man in his company a brigadier general. But as that is impossible, we are compelled to do the next best thing and use our judgment in selecting the speaker who seems best entitled to the award and to the reward."
"Bother his long speeches," said Berry in a low voice. "Why can't he say what he has to say and be done with it?"
The three boys were standing together just out of the sight of the audience, and with breathless interest were peering forward and listening to the speaker.
"As to the award of the first prize, there has not been much difference of opinion."
The man was speaking again and the boys at once became silent and intent upon his words.
"We have decided that the first prize, in view of the points we have marked, namely: forcefulness, clearness of enunciation, gracefulness, and self-possession, and the interpretation of the piece, belongs to--Ward Hill."
The words had hardly been uttered before a loud burst of applause broke forth from the audience. Jack in his enthusiasm stood up on his seat and threw his hat into the air, but a quiet touch by Mr. Crane recalled him to the proprieties of the occasion. The applause, however, was long continued and hearty, and showed that plainly the assembly concurred in the decision.
Ward felt the blood surge up in his face and as Berry patted him upon the shoulder, and Pond's glance betrayed his feeling, Ward felt that never before had he been so happy.
"The second prize," resumed the chairman as the audience at last became quiet, "has been a little more difficult to award. The nearly equal excellence of two of the speakers has led us at last to divide the prize. The second prize is therefore awarded to Lucius Berry and Frederick Pond."
Again the applause broke forth, genuine and long continued, and was redoubled when the three boys advanced to receive their prizes.
Ward glanced down at his father and mother and as he plainly saw them stealthily wiping their eyes, he felt a suspicious moisture creeping into his own. How different it all was from the close of the preceding year! It had been a long, hard struggle, but he had been well repaid in the happiness which had come to his parents, and in which he fully shared.
He was only partially aware of what followed. He knew that the audience had been dismissed and that many of the boys crowded about him with their words of congratulation and praise. He heard Mr. Crane's quiet words of praise too, and the warm grasp of the hand which was the sole expression of his father at the time was inexpressibly dear to him. His heart seemed to be overflowing and the long-continued effort of the year had brought him its reward; far more than the prize he had received was the satisfaction of having faced his difficulties and conquered in the struggle.
At last all the audience was gone, and Jack and Ward started slowly up the street together.
"It's been a great night," said Jack: "and, Ward, you have done nobly. Everybody is proud of you. But do you know, I'm not thinking of the prize you took."
"What are you thinking of?" said Ward quietly. His own mind had not been dwelling upon the prize either.
"I was thinking of the way in which you have faced the school, the work, and yourself, this year. I think I know something of what it has cost you. It's been a big price, but it was worth it."
Ward made no reply, although his heart responded warmly to his friend's words. He thought he too knew what he had lost and what he had gained; but he could not speak of either.
"Now, Ward," resumed Jack, "you've had a chance to talk with your father. What does he say about my proposition for next year?"
"Jack, old fellow, he was deeply touched, but he doesn't think it will do."
"Is he afraid to have you with me?"
"No, no; not a bit. That isn't it, but he wants me to go to another college." Ward did not refer to the other fact of which he was well aware, that his father was not willing for him to accept so great a favor at the hands of another, when he had no means of returning it.
"That's all right, then," said Jack; "but you haven't got rid of me yet. I'm going where you go, and I'm going with you too. Wouldn't it be a fine thing if Luscious and Henry and you and I could get some rooms together? Then, if Pond and one or two of the other fellows could go up to the same college we'd be all fixed out, wouldn't we? Say, Ward, let's fix that up, will you?" And all of the eagerness and impulsiveness of Jack's nature seemed to find expression in his words.
"It would be fine," replied Ward. "We'll have to talk that up."
The few remaining days of the closing week passed rapidly, and to Ward it seemed as if he were almost in a dream. The attentions he received, the words of love and praise spoken by nearly every one, his pride in his success, and above all the satisfaction in his own soul, arising from the consciousness that he had done his best, were with him all the time.
The last interview with Mr. Crane affected him deeply. He and Jack went up together for the parting, and it seemed to them as if the quiet dignity and warm heart of the loved teacher were never more apparent.
"It's a sad break in some ways to us who are to remain," said Mr. Crane. "You can't understand it, but it seems to me as if you were my younger brothers, and the home life was being broken. There will be something lacking next year. Not that we shall not have other boys whom we shall love and in whom we shall be interested, but they will not fully take the place of those who have left. Weston is all the home I know and perhaps shall ever know, and while I never may have any boys of my own, I trust you will always let me feel at least like an older brother to each of you."
"Mr. Crane, we owe everything to you," said Ward with shining eyes.
"If I have aided you, then pay the debt by aiding others," replied Mr. Crane softly. "Weston is only a stopping-place, not the end of the journey, and there is work for you to do. Some one else needs the helping hand, and yours I know will not be held back. I shall want to hear from you often and shall follow you with interest as long as I live. Whatever else you may become, I know you will be men!"
"I trust so," said Ward, and when for the last time he grasped Mr. Crane's hand and returned the pressure, his eyes were moist and his heart went out to the noble teacher with a great love, which never ended.
Even Mr. Blake was visited by the boys that night, and much of their dislike for him was forgotten in the fullness of their hearts. All the world looked bright and there was no room for anything but peace and good-will to all men.
On the following day, the last good-byes were spoken and they knew as they started for their homes, that the end of their lives and work at Weston had come. The peaceful valley, bathed in the sunlight of the early summer morning, smiled upon them. Around it were the hills, the everlasting hills, which would beam upon the coming generations of boys, who might never know of the struggles and triumphs, the failures and success of Ward Hill; but as for the last time he looked back upon the familiar scenes he felt that in a peculiar sense they were his own personal possessions. He might not return to them, but they would not depart from him.
"We'll meet again," said Jack when the school cheer had been given for the last time on the platform of the little station at Dorrfield.
Were his words true? Certainly in the college days there was ample opportunity to test the truthfulness of his prophecy, and as a record of those days has been kept as well as of the visits to the old familiar scenes at Weston, perhaps some of our readers may be sufficiently interested to desire to follow their fortunes in----
WARD HILL AT COLLEGE.
* * * * * * * *
The Outdoor ChumsSERIES
ByCAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN
At Cabin Point
For lovers of the great outdoors (and what boy is not?) this "Outdoor Chums" series will be a rare treat. After you have read the first book and followed the fortunes of the "Chums," you will realize the pleasure the other seven volumes have in store for you.
These rollicking lads know field, forest, mountain, sea and stream--and the books contain much valuable information on woodcraft and the living of an outdoor life.
The Goldsmith Publishing Co.CLEVELAND, O.
* * * * *
The Musket BoysSERIES
ByGEORGE A. WARREN
The Musket Boys on the Delaware
Stirring times were these--and stirring deeds made boys into men before their time.
Against the picturesque background of the revolutionary war, George A. Warren tells a tale of heroism and patriotism of the boys of long ago who heard the call of their country and rallied to the colors.
What trials of valor and responsibilities beyond their years comes to "The Musket Boys" is told in an enthralling manner.
The Goldsmith Publishing Co.CLEVELAND, O.
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKWARD HILL THE SENIOR***