THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 ENDOWED BY 
 
 JOHN SPRUNT HILL 
 CLASS OF 1889 
 
 C813 
 
 C641h 
 
FOR USE ONLY IN 
 THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTION 
 
 Forrr. No. A -368 
 

 How Zach Came to College 
 
HOV/ ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Spartanburg, one of the leading cities in the 
 Piedmont region of South Carolina, was once a 
 hamlet, absolutely wanting in city ways and city 
 aspirations. 
 
 The modest little village was the "town", the 
 market place, for the hardy mountaineers liv- 
 ing in the border counties along the North Caro- 
 lina line. To Spartanburg they brought their 
 apples, chestnuts, turnips, cabbage, "taters" and 
 their corn — as much of it as the}^ did not turn 
 into "mountain dew''. Long trains of "mountain 
 schooners", drawn by oxen and burdened with 
 "garden truck and sich Hkc" slowly winding their 
 way "to town" were familiar scenes to the people 
 living along the many country roads leading from 
 the mountain fastnesses to Spartanburg. Nor 
 can it be denied that the "sich like'' meant not 
 
4 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 infrequent]}' the juice of the apple rather than 
 the apple itself; for the sturdy mountaineer thought 
 it not wrong to get his apples and corn over the 
 hills with the least expense possible. What if it 
 did mean the killing of a few revenue officers ? 
 If Uncle Sam got in the way of their support for 
 w^ife and little ones, he must "go down." 
 
 A number of years prior to the Civil War, and 
 for a decade after its close, Spartanburg boasted 
 of one railroad, and Spartanburg was its northern 
 terminus. That fact increased the importance of 
 the little village, added to her dignity, and she 
 became the shipping point for a considerable por- 
 tion of upper South Carolina and not a little 
 territory be5'ond the North Carolina line. So the 
 wagon trains moved regularly, until Spartan- 
 burg's single railroad pushed its w^ay to Asheville, 
 and other roads came to emancipate the steer and 
 make the "mountain schooner" a thing of the 
 past. 
 
 One warm, lazy June day in the early 70's, there 
 stood in a store door in Spartanburg two men — 
 one, the proprietor. Major John A. Lee, the other 
 a young mountaineer. The mountain lad had on 
 
HOW ZACH CAMEjTO COLLKGE 5 
 
 no coat, but stood six feet two inches, in his rough 
 brogan boots, into the tops of which were stuffed 
 his blue jeans trousers, and tipped the scales at 
 240 pounds. The pure air that surrounded his 
 mountain home, and the regular daily work on the 
 little farm, had developed him into a perfect animal. 
 A coal-black moustache adorned his upper lip, 
 while a well-shaped nose, slightly aquiline, and a 
 pair of laughing brown eyes made him a man who 
 would attract attention in any crowd. A single, 
 knotted, twisted suspender wound its way across 
 one of his shoulders and served the double purpose 
 of holding up his trousers and affording a sling 
 for one of his arms while he stood ' 'at rest' ' . The 
 pantaloons were innocent of buttons, but their 
 places were supplied by a rust}^ nail, and a thorn, 
 the latter plucked from a thorn bush that stood by 
 the road leading from his mountain home to the 
 embryo city. 
 
 This attractive specimen of physical manhood 
 knew little of books, but had learned much in the 
 school of experience. He knew the haunts and 
 habits of the mountain deer "as the seaman knows 
 the sea", and to the raccoon and the 'possum was 
 
6 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I.EGE 
 
 a constant terror. And not a few of the hides of 
 these animals, as well as the flesh of the deer, he 
 sold in Spartanburg. He had watched men closely, 
 had blushed because of many things that he knew 
 to be wrong about him, and had dreamed of a 
 higher life. 
 
 It was a dull day with the merchants. Few 
 countrymen were in town, so our mountain lad and 
 Major Lee talked leisurely of the weather, the 
 change of the moon, and the prospects for a pinder 
 crop. Our hero had great confidence in the big- 
 hearted merchant, and no little admiration for the 
 man that "knowed so much." He had sold him 
 his load of "truck", and was just waiting for his 
 steers to "eat a bite" before beginning his long 
 journej'' homeward. 
 
 Stroking his heavy boots with one end of his 
 long whip handle, the young man raised his brown 
 eyes till they met those of his friend, and then 
 said, with some hesitation: 
 
 "Major, what's that?" 
 
 "That's a bell, the College bell; they are having 
 Commencement over there to-day", replied the 
 gentle, sympathetic merchant. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI.EGE 
 
 ( <■' 
 
 'What is Commencement, Major, and what is 
 a college?" asked the lad, this time an expression 
 of intense interest spreading over his face. 
 
 The kind-hearted business man consumed sev- 
 eral minutes endeavoring to convey to the mind of 
 the young man some idea of what a college is sup- 
 posed to be and do, and of what is meant by the 
 word commencement when used in this way, and 
 then said: 
 
 ''I am going over to attend the exercises, 
 won't you go along with me?'' 
 
 "I don't care if I do" was the quick reply, and 
 the mountaineer shambled off to his cart to get 
 his coat with the apparent delight of one who has 
 just received a new view of the possibilities of 
 life. 
 
 The coat, when the dust from the oxen's fodder 
 had been shaken from it, was donned, and the 
 young man raked his chubby fingers through his 
 somewhat disheveled locks, his heavy wool hat 
 was pushed up in front, and he walked off with 
 his friend, the words "college" and "commence- 
 ment" ringing in his mind and heart as he 
 struggled to get at their meaning — ringing almost 
 
8 HOW zAcii came: to coli^ege: 
 
 as sweetly and encouragingly as the old college 
 bell rang into his natural ears. The coat did not 
 fit well — a little too tight it was, with the sleeves 
 just a shade too short, but what cared the young 
 man for that? It was spun and woven and made 
 by the stiffened fingers of his widowed mother, 
 one of God's uncrowned queens, and it covered 
 the back and the throbbing heart of a guileless 
 man. 
 
 After a walk of fifteen minutes, the two reached 
 the College and were conducted by the ushers to 
 comfortable seats where they could hear every 
 word spoken by the young men of the graduating 
 class. 
 
 Wofford College had on her gala-day attire. 
 The floral decorations, arranged by the hands of 
 gentle women, were a revelation to our moun- 
 taineer. He had seen nature in all her loveliness 
 among the crags and peaks and in the vallej^s of 
 his mountain region. He loved the wild flowers 
 with all his soul, and had plucked them often for 
 his mother, but never before had he seen blossom 
 and bud arrayed in such dazzling beauty. He 
 had heard music, too, sweet music as it came 
 
HOW ZACII CAME TO COLLEGE 9 
 
 from the fiddle and the bow and rivaled the mel- 
 low laughter of the mountain lassie; he had "cut 
 the pigeon wing," despite his heft, at many a 
 country frolic; but never before had he heard 
 such entrancing music as that string band poured 
 into his opening soul. 
 
 The spacious auditorium was crowded with 
 elegantly dressed women, wise men, and bubbling, 
 buoyant 3'outh. The mountaineer was bewildered, 
 but it was delicious bewilderment. He was in a 
 trance. 
 
 But the exercises must begin. The dazed 
 mountaineer watched with intense interest the 
 long line of students file into the hall and the 
 fifteen members of the Senior Class take their 
 seats on the rostrum preparatory to delivering 
 their graduating speeches. 
 
 There were in that class some splendid speak- 
 ers. They had the graces of the born orator. 
 One of the number is to-da}' a distinguished 
 lawyer in the city of New York. Our mountain- 
 eer looked and listened with all his might. Not a 
 word escaped him, though many he did not un- 
 
lO HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvLEGE 
 
 derstand. He wavS moved and swayed as never 
 before in all his life. 
 
 After one particularly patriotic address in 
 which the j^oiing orator spoke of the "Lost Cause, 
 the Blood of Southern Boys" and "The Graves of 
 the Gallant Confederate Dead," the band played 
 Dixie, and the atidience "went wdld." 
 
 When the applause subsided, our mountaineer 
 leaned over and whispered to his friend, the mer- 
 chant: "Major, I'll speak up thar one o' these 
 days." 
 
 The Major was surprised, almost amazed at 
 w4iat he heard, but made some courteous repl}^ 
 and the two turned their attention to the next 
 speaker. 
 
 The pleasant occasion came to a close. The 
 valedictorian of the class "had his sa3\" He 
 talked to his classmates of the pleasant years 
 spent together, of the hard-fought battles, of the 
 victories and defeats, then wished them "a 
 pleasant and successful voyage over life's tempes- 
 tuous sea," and bade them a "long farewell." 
 The diplomas were distributed after the orthodox 
 fashion, the President's few parting words being 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 1 1 
 
 delivered in Latin, and the commencement was 
 over. 
 
 The students repaired to their homes and 
 boarding houses — the mountaineer to his cart. 
 On the walk from the college, he spoke but few 
 words. He was thoughtful. That day, a pur- 
 pose was born in him. He is another man. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hasitly yoking his steers, the mountaineer 
 flung into the cart the few articles purchased in 
 the morning, and turned his face homeward. The 
 purchased articles were few — just a little sugar 
 and coffee and a calico dress for his mother, the 
 queen of his mountain home. That was a warm 
 afternoon, the road was a long and dusty one, and 
 the faithful oxen labored hard though they drew 
 but little more than the weight of their patient 
 master. Old Towser, the trusty watch-dog and 
 constant companion of his master, trotted lazily 
 under the bed of the cart, sometimes on the shady 
 side. His tongue was hanging out and he panted 
 fearfully. The master munched his lunch, a bit 
 of bread and a part of a squirrel his mother had 
 prepared for him. He ate, not because he was 
 hungry, but from force of habit and to attest his 
 appreciation of his mother's nev^er-failing thought- 
 fulness of his comfort. The mountaineer was 
 living over the experiences of the forenoon. The 
 cattle had their own wa}-. 
 
 After the sun had set, and while the song of the 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO C0I.LP:GE 13 
 
 whip-poor will was echoing and re-echoing among 
 the hills, they came to one of those beautiful 
 streams that wind their way across upper Carolina, 
 and man and beast satisfied their thirst, the 
 mountaineer using his unlined wool hat as a 
 dipper. 
 
 The mountaineer was accustomed to talking to 
 his steers and his dog, and, no doubt, if these 
 dumb brutes could have vSpoken, they would have 
 expressed surprise at this strange, long silence of 
 their master. The lapping of the dog, the evident 
 pleasure experienced by the thirst}^ steers, as well 
 as the quenching of his own thirst, reminded him 
 of the fact that he had neglected to give the ani- 
 mals water before leaving Spartanburg, and imme- 
 diately loosened his tongue. 
 
 "Towser, old fellow," said he, "that's right, 
 lap it up, hit will do you good. You shell hev 
 a good supper, too, as soon as we git home, a real 
 good supper to make you strong. The warmints 
 must be kept outen the corn — they musn't have 
 a grain of it. I shall need it all. I'm gwine to 
 college, Towser; won't you find the raccoon and 
 
14 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 the sqiiir'l fur me, and can't we git a few minks, 
 and a bear or two?" 
 
 The ears and face of the brave old cur bore 
 many evidences of deadly conflicts with the rac- 
 coon; and though he could not speak, he whined 
 and barked his joyful assent to all that was pro- 
 posed, and fairly churned the water in his efforts 
 to kiss his master's hand. It was the only 
 language the dog could command, but the master 
 understood it. 
 
 Then he turned his attention to the steers, now 
 quietly listening to all that had been said, and 
 affectionately told them of his purpose. 
 
 How long they stood talking in the stream, 
 they knew not, but the hooting of an owl just 
 over the hill broke the spell, and the mountaineer 
 began talking to his cattle in the language of the 
 whipthong, a language full of meaning and music 
 when the long whip is handled by a master of the 
 art. As there is music for the trained hunter in 
 the "mouthings" of his pack, so is there concord 
 of sweet sounds for the expert driver in the regu- 
 lated cracking of his whip. 
 
 The mountaineer noticed now for the first time 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 1 5 
 
 that they were still many miles from home and 
 that it would be late, very late, before they could 
 reach the end of their journey; nevertheless, the 
 lash was not allowed to touch the backs of the 
 steers one time, for they were tired and hungry, 
 and their master was their friend. The song of 
 the whipthong. however, quickened their pace 
 somewhat, and they were now off, in dead earnest, 
 on "the home stretch." 
 
 Towser, chilled bj^ the cooling stream in which 
 he had rested, leaped for joy, and barked his de- 
 light until the provoking echo of his own musical 
 voice arrested his attention, and he ended the per- 
 formance with an ominous growl. The master 
 heard the echo, too, and thus soliloquized: 
 
 "I wonder wliut that means and how it is. 
 They call it echo — what is echo? I do not know. 
 Can they tell me at college? Never mind, 
 Towser, I shall find out and tell you whut it 
 is." 
 
 Mile after mile was covered by the steady team, 
 the master, meantime, lapsing into his thoughtful 
 mood, after laughing at the antics of the spiteful 
 little screech-owls that brushed the crown of his 
 
1 6 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI^LKGE 
 
 wool hat with the tips of their wings and viciously 
 snapped their beaks just above his head. 
 
 The stars were out now in all their beauty and 
 grandeur. Occasionally a meteor darted across 
 the heavens, and the mountaineer said to himself 
 and to his dumb friends: "Now, what do that 
 mean? They say it's a fallin' star. Do the star 
 fall? My Bible tells me the mornin' stars sing 
 together — does they really sing? I can't hear the 
 music, but I b'lieve they do. I know they dance, 
 and I sometimes think I can see 'em weepin'. 
 Mebbe they do Vv'eep. Mebbe they weeps over 
 the sins o' human critters. God knows — I 
 don't." 
 
 Crossing a narrow valley now, on either side of 
 which the hills seemed to rise one above another 
 till they met the stars and rolled them in their 
 laps, the joy of this uncultured son of the moun- 
 tains knew no bounds, and he gave vent to his 
 feelings by uttering a long repeated Jyell that re- 
 verberated among the hills until it seemed to 
 shake their ver}^ foundations. Then taking up 
 his whip, he said: "Now, Susie, old gal, sing us 
 a song. See the hills and the stars and the val- 
 
kOW ZACH CAMK TO COtLEGK 1 7 
 
 ley; now, talk it out, old gal, talk it out, good 
 and strong." 
 
 Standing on tip-toe in the wagon, the moun- 
 taineer twirled the long whipthong above his head 
 with such strength and such regularity of move- 
 ment that the metric cracking of the deer skin 
 seemed to prov^oke the whole mountain region to 
 a fit of ceaseless laughter. Then he laughed a 
 good-natured, jolly laugh that died away down 
 the valley in a whisper; and, patting the long 
 whip handle with his left hand, he said tenderly: 
 "Well done, Susie, well done, that's the way to 
 talk it out; I know your language: it is music to 
 my soul — it is the song of my deer skin." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A FEW hundred yards farther, and old Towser 
 pricked up his ears, and, with a sharp bark, bound- 
 ed away to investigate a noise he heard ahead. 
 
 "Be careful, Towser, be careful, sir; you know 
 your failin' ; come back now to your place and keep 
 cool." 
 
 Like his master, old Towser was game from tip 
 to tip; each feared neither man nor devil — each 
 
1 8 HOW ZACI-I CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 recognized but one master. But Towser was obedi- 
 ent, and, taking his place immediately in front of 
 the steers, he stiffened every joint in his body and 
 uttered an ominous growl that meant fight, and 
 fight to the death, for the right of way. 
 
 After a few minutes, old Towser scented old 
 Jack, one of the few negroes living among the 
 mountains, and changed his growl to a whine of 
 recognition. 
 
 "Hello, Marse Zach, dat you?" 
 
 "Hello, Uncle Jack, whut you doin' out here 
 this time o' night?" 
 
 "Sho nuff, dat's you; I knowed 'twus j^ou. I 
 heeard Susie's voice; the Lawd bless yo' soul, 
 mun, you oughter bin whar I wus . to hear her 
 speak. She farly tar round dar 'mong de rocks 
 and hills, and I think I could jess see you smile 
 while you standin' dar in the w^agin tryin' to 
 hole'er down and mek 'er regilate 'er voice. Dat 
 I did, suh; I could jess see you. Yes, suh, 
 Susie sing a song right tonight. An ole Bill, my 
 ole hoss here, ole fool, he git skeerdt, an' mek 
 lak he gwine left me dar een de road, but I fetch 
 
How ZACH CAMK to CoLLEGH tQ 
 
 him a whack 'cross de hade wid dis stick au' fotch 
 him to he senses. But I knowd 'tvvus you, an' 
 ole Towser, dar, he might knowed 'twus me 
 a-comin', fur it look lak any do^: whut kin smell 
 a 'coon good es ole Towser kin, oughter smell a 
 nigger clean 'cross de mountain." 
 
 The mountaineer was not displeased that the 
 old man liked the song of the whipthong, but 
 noticed that he had not answered his question. 
 So he repeated, "But whut you out so late fur 
 tonight, Uncle Jack? And whut's dat you got 
 thar in your cornsack? I think that's a jug." 
 
 "O, go long, Marse Zach; don't bodder 'bout 
 whar ole nigger gwine. Don't you know I spec- 
 table darkey?" 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Jack, I know you is lacked by the 
 white folks, but le' me gi' you a piece o' my jaw: 
 3^ou quit totin' whiskey fur dese fellers. They'll 
 git you into trouble. The fust news you know 
 dese revenue officers will hev you in jail." 
 
 "Das so, Marse Zach, das so, an' I promise 
 you I gwine quit it rite now. Dat I do." 
 
 Jack was a good old ante-bellum darkey that 
 
20 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.LEGK 
 
 everybody liked, but he bad one great weakness: 
 
 he lo\'ed whiskey. But, like many white men, he 
 would promise reformation anywhere and at an}^ 
 
 time. 
 
 "Marse Zach, I mighty glad I meet you tonight. 
 I jes' fixin' to go over ter 3^0' house tomorro' to 
 tell you 'bout it." 
 
 " 'Bout whut, Uncle Jack?" 
 
 " 'Bout dat bee tree I fine yistiddy. Yas, suh, 
 down dar not fur fum de Gum Spring on de lovv-er 
 eend uv yo' ma's plantation, I find a bee tree 
 De big poplar dar, suh; j^ou know whar 'tis. An' 
 I was jis' comin' over tomorro' ter tell j^ou 'bout 
 it an' ax you let me lie'p cut it down an' gi' me 
 leetle o' de honey fur Dinah an' de chillun." 
 
 "Why Uncle Jack, I am mighty glad to hear dat. 
 Is you sho' it's a bee tree? An' does ^'■ou think dere's 
 much honey een it?" 
 
 "Sho, suh, sho; an' I'll bet ole Bill gin Towser 
 dar's fifteen gallons honey in it." 
 
 "Well, we'll not bet 'bout it, but I hope j^ou air 
 right. It will be a great he'p to me. You see, 
 Uncle Jack, I've got to make uver cent I kin this 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvLEGE 21 
 
 summer; I mean to go off to college nex' October 
 an' git a edication, an' dat honey will sell power- 
 ful well in Spartanburg." 
 
 "An', Marse Zach, whut is edication, an' whut 
 you gwine do wid it when you git it?" 
 
 "To git a edication, Uncle Jack, means to larn 
 somethin', an'- git wise an' useful an' able to do 
 somethin'." 
 
 "Bless my life, Marse Zach, you de wisest an'de 
 ablist white man in dese mountains now, case I 
 hear a might}^ putty little gal say so yistiddy. 
 She say you de bess lookin' man in North Caliny, 
 andean tro\vdown an' lick anything what walks 
 on two foots. I don't see whutj^ou gwine do wid 
 dat thing you call edication when you git it." 
 
 The smile that had wreathed the face of the 
 mountaineer quickly gave place to a frown. For 
 the first time since the birth of his purpose, the 
 thought, "What will Katie saj^ of my plan?" 
 rushed through his brain and for an instant took 
 his breath. As soon as he could get control of 
 himself he said, with some deliberation: 
 
 "Well, come over tomorrow at 8 o'clock, Uncle 
 
22 HOW ZACH CAMR TO COLLEGE 
 
 Jack, and we'll cut the bee tree. Good night." 
 "Good night, Marse Zack, you'll have ter mek 
 Susie sing anudder song, if dem steer git you 
 home 'fo' de chicken crow." 
 
 Susie sang only a note or two, but they were 
 full of meaning, and the now rested oxen bounded 
 forward with alacrity. The mountaineer put Su- 
 sie in her place and said with a deep, long-drawn 
 sigh: "And what will Katie say?" 
 
 chaptp:r IV. 
 
 It was long after midnight before the tired steers 
 halted under a shed in the yard of the humble 
 mountain home. The driver patted their throb- 
 bing flanks and spoke kind, appreciative words to 
 them, for he valued the services and respected the 
 feelings of his faithful, dumb servants as only a 
 man of heart can do. Having watered and fed the 
 steers, the mountaineer went into the house and 
 was met at the door by his devoted mother who 
 had not closed her eyes, but had watched and 
 waited through all the long hours for the home- 
 coming of her son. 
 
 "Come in, my son. come in, you be late tonight; 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLIvKGB 23 
 
 I am so glad to see 3^ou," said his mother in a gen- 
 tle, sweet voice. 
 
 "Thank you, mother," said the mountaineer, 
 tenderly kissing the woman who had given so 
 much of her life for his own comfort and happiness. 
 "You haint bin scared, is you, mother?" 
 
 "No, no; I wasn't skeerdt, — but I couldn't 
 he'p feelin' a leetle oneasy 'bout ye." 
 
 "Why, mother, nobody in dese mountings 
 would hurt me." 
 
 "No brave man would, my son, but you knov/ 
 thar is so many mean people on de 3^erth. The 
 folks knows that you don't favor mekin' and sell- 
 in' liquor, and I jist got to thinkin' that mebbe 
 some of 'em mought like to have you outen the 
 way. I couldn't sleep till I seed you safe and 
 sound at home. But you must eat your supper, — 
 I know you is monstous tired. I tried to keep 
 your supper warm by pushin' the chunks together. 
 The coffee is good and warm, but I'm afeard the 
 bread is cold." 
 
 "Thank you, mother; I aint hongry, but I'll 
 eat jest fur your sake, — you is so good an' kind 
 to keep my supper warm fur me, ' ' 
 
24 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 "Did you feed the critters, son?" the thought- 
 ful mother asked. 
 
 "Yes, mother, the steers is watered and fed." 
 "Now then draw up a cheer and eat a bite your- 
 self and then go to bed, fur it's almost time to get 
 up and you haint had a wink o' sleep." 
 
 The obedient son threw himself into a chair 
 which he dragged to the side of a little table and 
 devoutl}^ gave thanks to God for all his blessings. 
 The mother took a seat directly in front of her 
 son, placed her elbows on the table, rested her chin 
 in her hands and lovingly looked into the face of 
 her boy who ate with a "comin' appetite." 
 
 "I want you to try some of this fresh honey, 
 Zachie, with that bit o' meat. I think you'll find 
 it nice; I robbed a gum to-day and got a fine chance 
 and accordin' to my taste hit is a fine quality too; 
 hit ought to bring a good price in town, did you 
 ax whut honey is fetchin', son?" 
 
 By this time the mountaineer had tasted the 
 honey and, smacking his lips, said: "It is cer- 
 tainly fine, mother, and will fetch the top o* the 
 piarket. But I furgit to ax the price; this is been 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^LKGE) 25 
 
 a big da)^ fur me, au' I furgit sev'al things that I 
 'spected to 'tend to. " 
 
 Here the son, knowing that he had before him 
 one who could sympathize with him, though she 
 might not understand or appreciate f uU}^ his plans, 
 opened his mouth and heart, and told her all he 
 had seen and much of what he had heard, and 
 then said: "Mother, I want to go to college, and 
 ef God will gi' me health, and j^ou will he'p me, 
 I will go, an' I'll promise you to make a man that 
 you will be proud of. Will you he'p me, mother?" 
 
 The gentle little woman, whose heart throbbed 
 always in unison with that of her stalwart son, 
 brushed a tear from each e5^e with the corner of 
 her homespun apron, and said in a calm, clear 
 voice: "God knows I'm proud of you already, my 
 son; you has always been a joy to 3'our widowed 
 mother, and you kin nuver do ennything to mek 
 me love you better' n I do now; but your happi- 
 ness is my happiness and 3^our plans is my plans. 
 When the Lord tuck 3^0' brave father, I promised 
 
 Him that ef He would spar you to me I would do 
 my best to bring you up in His fear. He has an- 
 swered my prayers and you have not disappointed 
 
26 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLIvKGK 
 
 me. These han's has worked hard for you, my 
 son. They tremble sometimes now, but I can do 
 a good deal yit, and you shill hev the best that I 
 kin do to he-'p you carry out your plans," 
 
 The big-hearted mountaineer was now standing 
 by the side of his tiiother, and, taking her tenderly 
 in his arms, he said, with a choking voice: "Thank 
 you, precious mother, I want to larn somethin' fur 
 your sake." 
 
 It was now late, or early, and time that both 
 were sleeping, but the new purpose born the day 
 before, and now become the purpose of both, 
 promised such a radical change in the plans of 
 both lives that sleep was banished from their 
 eyes. 
 
 Long and lovingly talked mother and son. The 
 mother's whole mind was now bent on devising 
 ways and means for getting her son off to college. 
 
 "What time does 50U hev afore the college 
 begins again, son?'' asked the mother thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "I will have to leave iiome the fust of October, 
 mother." 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI.EGR 27 
 
 "Three months and a leetle better," said the 
 
 mother, more to herself than to her sou. 
 
 *'Wecandoa good deal in that time, Zachie. 
 
 There is plenty of grass now, and the cows is 
 doin' well. Old Spec will be givin' milk in eight 
 or ten days, and her milk is very rich. We'll 
 deny ourselves and sell all the butter. Then the 
 bees is doin' well, we'll sell lots o' houe}^ And 
 I'll mek the chickens and eggs fetch us more 
 money. I have twenty young turkeys now, and 
 I found another turkey nest this mornin' with 
 thirteen eggs in it. I'll do the best I kin with all 
 these and card and spin and weave the wool You 
 can go to town every two weeks and turn some- 
 thin' into money." 
 
 "Yes, mother, I know you will do much more'n 
 
 yo' part. But, mother, it hurts me to hear you 
 talk 'bout denyin' j^ourself anything." 
 
 "My dear son, is it not a pleasure for me to 
 deny myself anything for you? Did I not deny 
 myself many a night's sleep when I nursed 3^ou 
 through that awful spell o' scarlet fever? And 
 has not yo' love paid me fur all my trouble ten 
 thousand times over?" 
 
28 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI.I.EGE 
 
 Then with a husk}'- voice the mountaineer said: 
 "God bless you, mother; with you on my side I 
 kin do anything." 
 
 "Zachie, my son, do you hear that rooster? It 
 is 'most day — do go to bed and git some sleep. 
 You can't work bethout sleep." 
 
 "Fur 3'o' sake, mother, I'll go. I am not 
 sleepy, but I'll go to bed, so that you may lie 
 dow^n an' git some rest. Good night." 
 
 Zach walked into his little room and, throwing 
 himself upon his knees, he reverently thanked 
 God for his loving, sympathetic mother; begged 
 Him to spare her life many years, to spare his 
 own life, and give him health and strength to 
 carry out his plans for improving his mind, and 
 promised in return a life of faithful service. 
 
 Then, jumping into bed, he slept the sleep of 
 the innocent. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The sun was peeping in through the crack 
 under the door that morning long before Zach's 
 eyes opened to the light. How" ^ong he might 
 have slept is not known, but ''Uncle Jack" w^as 
 true to his promise and came at the appointed 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 29 
 
 hour to cut the bee tree. Old Towser "winded'' 
 the African, yelped a note of warning and 
 aroused his master from his slumbers. Zach was 
 soon bathing his face in the cool, clear water that 
 flowed out from the mountain not many feet from 
 the back door of the little house, and felt ashamed 
 that he had slept so late while his mother was up 
 preparing his breakfast for him. 
 
 The two sat down to breakfast and, wdiile eat- 
 ing, again discussed their plans for the summer. 
 The sou told his mother of old Jack's find near 
 the Gum Spring, and of his promise to give the 
 old negro some of the hone}^ for his assistance in 
 cutting the tree. The mother had known bee 
 trees to be found containing many gallons of 
 honey, and expressed the hope that old Jack's 
 find might be a genuine bee tree and contain an 
 abundance of honey and the honej'comb. "Your 
 success or failure this mornin'," she said, "ma)^ 
 be a sign of good or bad luck in your summer's 
 work. But Zachie, my son, what vvill Katie 
 say?" 
 
 ' *I have thought of that, mother; I have thought 
 
30 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLI^EIGE 
 
 of all that. Katie is a sensible gal, and will not 
 stand in the wa}^ of my plans.'' 
 
 Old Jack waited as patiently as possible for the 
 mountaineer to finish his breakfast, but stimulated 
 by Dinah's joyful anticipations, was anxious to 
 try the temper of his keen-bladed axe on the big 
 bee tree. After a ten-minutes' walk the two 
 stood at the roots of the large poplar not far from 
 the big Gum Spring. The trained eye of the 
 mountaineer saw at a glance that it was the home 
 of a colony of bees, and, in all probability, con- 
 tained many gallons of honey. 
 
 It was an unusually large tree. **MyIyawd," 
 
 said Uncle Jack, "Marse Zach, dat tree must be 
 five foot tru de butt-cut. ' ' 
 
 "I think not, quite. Uncle Jack,'' said his 
 
 friend, "but it mought be four foot." 
 
 "Well, howsoever, you'll arn de salt in your 
 
 dinner 'fo' we git it cut down." 
 
 Towser and Zeno had been brought along and 
 
 the mountaineer's old-fashioned flint-and-steel 
 
 rifle. Every squirrel skin would go a little way 
 
 toward swelling the fund necessary to defray his 
 
 expenses at college. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 3 1 
 
 Spitting on their hands after the manner of the 
 
 woodsman, the two fell to work on the tr«e, and 
 
 for several minutes the large chips flew thick and 
 
 fast. Stopping to "get their wind," old Jack 
 
 said: "Marse Zach, s'posin' der be a coon in dis 
 
 tree. De bees is way up yonder, and I see a hole 
 up dar 'bout thirty foot whut look powerful slick 
 lak some warmiut bin crawlin' een and out." 
 
 "I hope we shell find a coon or some squir'ls in 
 
 thar, Uncle Jack. I hev had sich luck in my 
 
 time." 
 
 "Me, too; and I notice old Towser might}' busy 
 
 out dar smellin' 'bout dem logs — I b'lieve coon 
 
 bin long dar since the chicken crow dismornin'." 
 
 "Whar is Zeno? His nose is colder than Tow- 
 ser's," said the mountaineer, "and ef a coon's 
 been along here since 4 o'clock, old Zeno will tell 
 3'ou 'bout it." 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken before old 
 Zeno, known as the "strike dog,'' "gave mouth' 
 just over the ridge. 
 
 "Dar now! Whut I tell you? Talk to him' 
 old boy! Tell him 'bout it! When old Brer Coon 
 put he foot on de groun' ol' Zeno sho to pass de 
 
32 HOW ZACH CAMJ5 TO COtlvKGK 
 
 time a day wid him," ejaculated old Jack, as much 
 delightc^d as if he had found a uew, crisp ten-dol- 
 lar bill. At the first note from Zeno old Towser, 
 with bristles up, bounded across the ridge to join 
 him. , 
 
 **Dat mought be a squirl old Zeno smell," the 
 mountaineer said. 
 
 "No, suh, narry squir'l; didn't you see old 
 Towser' s bristles and hear him whine? No, suh; 
 dat old pup spilin' fur a fight. Dogs know each 
 udder's words jess same ez me an' you. When old 
 Zeno smack he lips and say 'coon bin here,' Tow- 
 ser know jess de same lak you know when I 
 tell you dis a bee tree. Yes, suh, dat a coon, an' 
 3'ou give old Zeno time and he'll show j^ou whar 
 dat old coon sleepin' now." 
 
 The old darkey was right. The trail was a cold 
 one and it was some ten minutes before Towser 
 could "give mouth" at all, but the old fellow 
 kept up a continual whining because of his confi- 
 dence in the accuracy of the statements made by 
 his companion. 
 
 "That's a cold trail, Uncle Jack; let's go on 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGK 33 
 
 with the cuttin' and let the dogs cipher it out ef 
 the}^ kin," said the mountaineer. 
 
 "Dat's so/' responded the old man, biting off a 
 big quid from a twist of home-raised tobacco; 
 ''dat's a cole trail, but old Zeno will sho spile de 
 rest uvdat ole coon dis morniu'." 
 
 With an occasional whoop of encouragement, 
 the dogs were left to solve their own problem, 
 while the two men plied their axes with renewed 
 vigor, the old negro making with each stroke of 
 his glittering blade that peculiar gutteral noise so 
 common among regular wood choppers while run- 
 
 ning a race. 
 
 After crawling over and under fences, walking 
 many logs, paddling up and down the branch and 
 crossing and recrossing the ridge a half score of 
 times, old Towser, warming up for the fight and 
 uttering faster and faster that abrupt, quick yelp 
 characteristic of the experienced coon dog, the 
 faithful canines wound up at the roots of the big 
 poplar on which the men were cutting. 
 
 The old man's joy knew no bounds, for the an- 
 ticipations of delicious wild honey were aug- 
 
34 HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvLKGE 
 
 mented by the thought of roasted coon-meat. 
 
 Indeed the white man and the black man drove 
 
 their axes into the poplar with a will, this promise 
 
 of a double rew^ard greatiy stimulating their ef- 
 forts. 
 
 The tree fell at last. When it did, not one, but 
 two coons ran out, to the infinite delight of both 
 men and dogs. Each dog tackled a coon. Old 
 Towser, in his effort to get at his, ran through 
 the bees, now pouring out of the log in great 
 numbers. The old veteran had fought many 
 bloody battles, but never before had he tackled 
 coon and bees at the same time? He whined pit- 
 eously, but never for once did he loosen his grip 
 till he heard the cracking of the coon's breast 
 bones and felt the ominous quivering of his mus- 
 cles. The old negro saw the predicament of the 
 notorious coon fighter and ran to his assistance. 
 To his amazement the bees, with one accord, left 
 the dog and literally covered him. For a while 
 the old man got young again. He was "the com- 
 bination of the mule and billy goat — he kicked 
 with one end and butted with the other." "My 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^I^ICGK 35 
 
 Lawd, Marse Zach," he screamed, "come hep me 
 fight dese bees! Geminy, Moses and Dinah, dey's 
 killin' me! For Gawd's sake Marse Zach, hep me 
 git my clothes off, der's ten thousand in my 
 britches." The old fellow ha:d by this time rid 
 himself of his tattered shirt and was vainly tug- 
 ging at his pantaloons and rolling over on the 
 ground. 
 
 "Run to the branch, you old fool!" cried the 
 mountaineer. "Get in the water!" 
 
 Jack lost no time in getting to the stream and 
 buried himself in the water. The two men had 
 neglected to take precautionary measures against 
 the possible attack of the bees, and the old darkey 
 was now paying the penalty of their thoughtless- 
 ness. 
 
 "Marse Zach," he said, as soon as he could 
 speak, "how de name er Gawd kin sich things ez 
 dem mek honey? Fo' Gawd, dey kin sting wid 
 one eend an' bite wid t'other. My eyes is swel- 
 lin', Marse Zach, an' yer some de leetle devils 
 stickin' een my har yit." 
 
 The good-natured mountaineer, seeing the dogs 
 
36 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COIvIvKGK 
 
 had dispatched both coons, had withdrawn a safe 
 distance from the buzzing bees, and, convulsed 
 with laughter, was rolling on the ground. 
 
 The cutting of the bee tree proved to be a profit- 
 able enterprise. The skins of the coons would be 
 ready for market as soon as they could be dried, 
 and the tree was packed with the finest kind of 
 honey. Old Jack was given the flesh of the two 
 coons, together with the honey he was promised 
 for his assistance. 
 
 * 'Dinah an' de chillun will grin over dis honey," 
 said Jack, ''but es fur me, I'll tek de coon meat; 
 I got nuff dem bees. Bless Gawd, my head big is 
 a bar'l now, and wun my eye dun clean shot. I 
 don't want no more honey. Good-bye, Marse Zach; 
 guess next time old Towser fight coon an' bees to- 
 gedder he can fight it out hisself, — dis chile gwine 
 tudder way." 
 
 The mountaineer and his mother were well pleas- 
 ed with the success of the morning. The coon 
 pelts were nailed to the barn door in the place of 
 two others that were dried sufficiently for market. 
 That night a careful and accurate inventory was 
 
HOW ZACH CAMI5 TO COI.LKGE 37 
 
 made of their available, marketable assets, and an- 
 other trip to Spartanburg arranged for the follow- 
 ing Monday morning, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Saturday afternoon found Zach at the home of 
 Joe Langford just a mile and a half from his own. 
 Katie must know of his new purpose and the soon- 
 er the better, so he determined to inform her at 
 once. 
 
 It had been a bus}^ day with Katie. Every- 
 thing was prepared now for the Sabbath, and she 
 had just finished milking when the mountaineer 
 walked into the yard. The two seated themselves 
 under a large elm tree that stood not far from the 
 door of the cottage, and Zach thought the rosy- 
 cheeked girl of seventeen never looked sweeter in 
 all her life. The mountain lassie did not conceal 
 her pleasure at the presence of her lover, and talked 
 with her accustomed ease and fluency; and when 
 Zach beheld her in all her loveliness, and thought 
 of losing her after all, his heart sank within him. 
 
 A weaker man would have abandoned his purpose 
 then and there^ and set about completing the 
 
38 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 
 
 arrangements for wedding Katie the following 
 
 November. But Zacli w^as made of sterner stuff; 
 
 with him the die v.-as cast, and Zach w^as a man. 
 
 ■ Taking his sweetheart's hand in his, he said in 
 
 an awkward, stumbling way; "Katie, I loves you 
 
 powerful, an' God knows you is the fust an' onli- 
 
 est gal I uver did love. I got sumpin to say to 3^ou 
 
 an' sumpin to ax you, but I want you to think 
 
 'bont it good afore 3'ou answer me." 
 
 "Zachie," said the half-frightened girl, 'Vhut 
 
 is the matter wid 5^ou? Your bans is tremblin' 
 
 and I never seed 5'ou look so tarrified, — whut is 
 
 the matter?" 
 
 Then the poor fellow told her of all that he had 
 
 seen and heard on his recent visit to Spartanburg, 
 and told her of his purpose to have a diploma him- 
 self. 
 
 By this time he had gotten full control of himself 
 
 and lifting the white fingers to his lips, he said in 
 
 his gentlest tones: 
 
 "Katie, will you wait on me till I git my edica- 
 tion? Don't answer me now, but think 'bout it, 
 an' answer me nex' week." 
 
 The face of the lovely girl, this simple-hearted 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.LEGE 39 
 
 child of nature, was clouded for a few seconds, and 
 
 she said with a noticeable tremor in her voice: "But, 
 
 Zachie, hit will tek you so long. We can git 'long 
 
 bethout all that expense an' trouble. Ma told me 
 
 jist to-day that she would gi' me Old Brindle an' 
 
 her calf an' a new featherbed, an' I already has 
 
 six blankets and fourteen quilts. Weans kin git 
 
 along.'' And Katie brushed a tear away that 
 
 danced upon her long lashes in spite of the fact 
 
 that she bit her lips in her efforts to keep it back. 
 
 "O yes; we could git along, but I wants more 
 
 than jes to git along. I wants to larn sumpin and 
 
 be sumpin and do sumpin. I don't know how long 
 
 it will tek me to git a edication. Hit mought tek 
 
 me five j^ears; mebbe seven. But did not Jacob 
 
 work seven long year fur his wife, an' can't I 'ford 
 
 to work, not lak a sarvant, but lak a free man 
 
 — can't I 'ford to labour an' stud}^ hard fur seven 
 
 long 3'ear to larn sumpin an' mek myself worthy 
 
 of sich a gal as you is?" 
 
 "Then ^^ou'll be a great man an' marry some 
 rich city gal, — you will not look at Katie then"' 
 sobbed the innocent girl burying her face in her 
 hands. 
 
40 HOW ZACH CAUH TO COLIvKGE 
 
 The mountaineer had grappled with the wound- 
 ed bear in a death struggle and had licked a ruff- 
 ian "out of his boots" for cursing him because of 
 his opposition to "moonshining," but never before 
 had he received such a shock as this. He was 
 staggered by a sense of his utter helpless. Trained 
 in the school of experience to meet every emer- 
 gency, however, he failed not in this. Raising 
 the drooping head of the girl he loved, he looked 
 into her tear-dimmed eyes and said: 
 
 "Katie, that hurts me. Don't do that. You 
 don't understand me. I kin fetch you books an' 
 you kin larn a powerful heap b}^ readin' an' stud}-- 
 in' 'em. You know more than I does now. You 
 have read several books an' I know you laks to 
 read. I haint read nothin' but my Bible." 
 
 That was a happy stroke. The girl brushed the 
 tears from her face and smiled a sweet smile into 
 the eyes of her distressed lover. By some chance 
 a copy of Longfellow's poems and one of Haw- 
 thorne's Grandfather's Chair had fallen into her 
 hands and she had read and re-read them until she 
 was recognized as "the smartest gal in the moun- 
 tings." 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 41 
 
 It was the thought of getting other books and of 
 becomins: educated herself that dried Katie's tears 
 and reinstated the beautiful dimples in her cheeks. 
 Raising both her hands as if about to pat his two 
 fat cheeks, she said, in tones that thrilled her 
 heart-sick lover: 
 
 "Zachie, do forgive me; I am so foolish. I 
 know that you love me and that it is all for the 
 best. I am onl}^ seventeen, and 3^ou will bring me 
 books and I shall see 3^ou every summer and every 
 Christmas; of course I will wait on you ef it takes 
 you ten years stiddier seven." What happened 
 then? Well, just let that be Katie and Zachie's 
 secret. The stars were shining now and winked 
 at one another significantl3^ 
 
 The mountaineer was supremely happy when he 
 told his mother that night of Katie's approval of 
 his plans. The next day at meetin' he "heisted 
 the hymes'' and sang as he had never sung before. 
 
 Zach's next trip to Spartanburg was a success- 
 ful one. He had no difficult}^ in disposing of his 
 
 •'garden truck," honey and skins, and got fair 
 prices for all. Indeed, Providence seemed to smile 
 pn the mountaineer's efforts during the entire 
 
42 HOW ZACH CAM:e TO COLLEGE 
 
 summer. Many trips were made "to town," and 
 never one without adding something to his small 
 amount of cash. His mother was particularlj^ suc- 
 cessful with her dairy and poultry yard, and the 
 mountaineer rejoiced that his hogs were entirely 
 free from cholera and his sheep seldom disturbed 
 by the hungry fox. Besides, his long rifle added 
 not a few dimes to his exchequer, while Towser 
 and Zeno did their full share. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 When the old college bell announced the open- 
 ing of another session on the ist of October, the 
 mountaineer was there ready for business. He 
 wore a bright new suit of blue jeans and a pair of 
 heavy boots, rough but clean. So tall, so large, 
 so muscular, he looked a giant among the boys 
 and 37oung men there assembled. Indeed, his pres- 
 ence would have been hailed with delight if the 
 game of football as now played had been known. 
 
 "The big fellow" was examined and assigned to 
 the preparatory department. He asked no favors, 
 but his quiet, unostentatious, and earnest manner 
 impressed faculty and students that he came for 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO C0LI.E:GK 43 
 
 business and meant to win. He hired one of the 
 large rooms on the lower floor of the college build- 
 ing, installed a very small cooking stove, and in 
 that room he lived, doing his own cooking and 
 washing. 
 
 A few of the more fortunate students were dis- 
 posed, at first, to laughjat the idea of such an un- 
 dertaking, but it was not long until the "big fellow 
 in blue jeans" had the respect of the entire stu- 
 dent body. 
 
 Unused to study, the mountaineer found his 
 work very difficult and his environment very try- 
 ing. He missed the fresh mountain air and the 
 freedom of his untrammelled mountain life. For 
 the first few weeks, there were times that sorely 
 tried his manhood. Once or twice he was on t h 
 verge of wishing he were back again by Katie's side 
 and forever done with books and slates and college 
 bells. But Zach was a man, and a man with a pur- 
 pose, not a boy drifting with the tide. So. clinch- 
 ing his heavy fist, he brought it down on his little 
 table with such force as almost crushed it, and said: 
 "I am no genius, but I'm no fool; other men have 
 
44 HOW ZACH came: to COLIvEGK 
 
 learned these lessons and I can do it, too. ' ' And he 
 did. 
 
 The weeks passed rapidly by, and tl^e mountain- 
 eer found himself fond of his vrork and in love 
 with his teachers and associates. His genial dis- 
 position and the honest earnestness of the man 
 drew others to him; and though he did not ask it, 
 several of the best men in his class volunteered to 
 assist him until he could ''get on his feet." 
 
 The mountaineer's jQrst year at college seemed 
 to him very short as indeed is always the case with 
 the earnest, faithful student who means to waste 
 no time. But he was glad to get home again to 
 press to his bosom his devoted mother and faith- 
 full all}^, to romp with Tow.ser and Zeno, and to 
 look into the loving eyes of Katie, his black-eyed 
 lassie. 
 
 The summer was spent very largely as was the 
 previous one except that the mountaineer taught 
 the public school for thirty da5^s. In this he was 
 eminently successful, winning the confidence of 
 his pupils and, through them, the respect and ad' 
 miration of their parents. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 45 
 
 Many of his neighbors, particular!}^ the young 
 men and maidens of the neighborhood, believed 
 that when Zach returned from college he would be 
 'bigetty and stuck up becase he's got some 
 larnin." The}^ were disappointed, and when, on 
 the first Sabbath after his return, he walked up to 
 a group standing in front of the church and said: 
 "Why, hello, fellers, I am so glad to see 3-0U all 
 again,-— how do you all do?" their suspicions were 
 thrown to the winds. He put his arm around the 
 neck of one and said, "Bill, old fellow, how are 
 you? You look just as natural as cornbread. Say 
 Bill, how's your gal, is she as pretty as ever?" 
 
 Then Jim Snooks ntidged Bob Satterwhite, and 
 said, "By gosh, Bob, he aint a bit bigetty; dowled 
 if he aint the same old Zach." 
 
 Uncle Jack who now lived in the cabin on the 
 hill near the Gum Spring, had "pitched the crop" 
 and had managed it well, at the same time looking 
 after the hogs and sheep and giving Towser and 
 Zeno an occasional run over the hills after the 
 coons that were bold enough to make depredations 
 on his "roasting ears." Zach helped him to ''lay 
 by" the crop, before he turned school-master. 
 
46 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGK 
 
 To him :his was a delightful summer, though he 
 spent not an idle day. Many an evening he spent 
 with Katie, looking into the depths of her beauti- 
 ful eyes and listening to her talk of the books he 
 had sent and brought her. 
 
 But Zach was ready to return to college when 
 the time came. The little taste he had had, the 
 sip at the fountain of knowledge had developed and 
 strengthened his determination to drink long and 
 well. It was during this second year a little inci- 
 dent occurred that made the mountaineer the hero 
 among the college boys. 
 
 Our reader will remember that this was during 
 the * 'reconstruction period. ' ' Federal troops were 
 garrisoned in almost every city and town in our 
 state. The very presence of the blue-coats made 
 the negroes impudent and insulting to an extent 
 which our Northern friends have never been able 
 to appreciate. All over the South, for a dozen 
 years after the Civil war, there were frequent 
 clashes between the two races. In some cases, 
 men were driven to desperation, and blood was 
 shed. To be shoved oS the side- walk in one's own 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI.I.EGE 47 
 
 town and be cursed by a former slave was just a 
 little more than the blue-eyed Anglo-Saxon could 
 stand. A clash between the soldiers and the WoiT- 
 ord College students on account of the latter's re- 
 sistance of the impudence of the negroes was nar- 
 rowly averted more than once. 
 
 There were not many negroes in Spartanburg, 
 but a few who had made themselves very obnox- 
 ious to the white people and especially to the stud- 
 ents. One tall, angular, copper-colored negro 
 came to Spartanburg and claimed to have a diploma 
 from one of the Northern colleges. He was for a 
 time "The Reverend" among the negroes, and he 
 harangued them nightly on social equality and 
 their duty to have and to hold the reins of govern- 
 ment. His brazen effrontery was intolerable and 
 the wonder is that he was not shot to death before 
 
 he left the town. 
 
 The man wore good clothes, an elegant silk hat, 
 
 and twirled a dainty gold-headed cane in his much 
 
 bejeweled fingers. He was large and strong — this 
 
 educated negro — had jostled several of the student 
 in his afternoon perambulations, and really seemed 
 to enjoy the sport, apparently selecting his streets 
 
48 HOW ZACH CAME TO C0I,I,KG:E 
 
 for the purpose of meeting the bo)\s. He had not 
 seen the mountaineer. The fellow's insolence was 
 discussed more than once by groups of indignant 
 college boys. The mountaineer heard of it. He 
 smiled, but said nothing. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It was a lovely afternoon in April. The moun- 
 taineer and two of his classmates strolled dowm 
 Church Street. They had not gone far before they 
 met the "educated gentleman of color" walking 
 very leisurely, looking as wise as an owl and twirl- 
 ing his gold-headed cane. He walked close to the 
 fence, as was his custom, meaning to force every- 
 one he met to take the outside regardless of the di- 
 rection he was going. The mountaineer saw his 
 purpose, but knew that he and his companions 
 were entitled to the inside and determined to have 
 it at any cost. So he said to the boys: "Keep 
 quiet and leave him to me." Stepping directly in 
 front of the burly fellow, he seized him by the 
 lapels of his tight-fitting coat and shook him un- 
 til his silk hat and little cane rolled into the gut- 
 ter; then giving him a twist and a kick, he dumped 
 
 > 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 49 
 
 the * 'educated gentleman of color" into the middle 
 of the street, saying very calmly: "Now, sir, re- 
 port that if you dare, and we'll tie a rock to your 
 neck and feed you to the fishes in I^awson's Fork.'' 
 It was never reported, nor was any other wdiite 
 person ever jostled on the streets of Spartanburg 
 by this interloper. 
 
 The next vacation was spent, as was the pre- 
 ceding one, in teaching the short-term school and 
 in marketing everything that could be spared from 
 the garden, dairy and poultry yard. 
 
 I^ate in the summer, however, Zach determined 
 to drop out of college for a year and teach school. 
 A ten-month school was offered him, and after con- 
 sidering the matter thoroughly, he decided to take 
 it. He kept up his studies, reviewing carefully 
 all that he had been over at college and doing his 
 level best to teach the mountain urchins as they 
 had never been taught before. By close economy 
 he saved enough money to defray his expenses the 
 next two years at college. 
 
 This year out of college was very helpful to 
 Zach. The careful review of his studies and his 
 
50 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLKGK 
 
 efforts to teach Katie Latin and Algebra were of 
 incalculable benefit to him. Many an evening, 
 too, he and Katie spent reading and discussing 
 works of fiction and history. 
 
 Though the year was helpful to Zach, it was 
 not without its trials to the mountaineer and his 
 black-eyed beauty. A quaint old divine once said: 
 "There's a lot of human uatur in man." There 
 proved to be much "human natur'' in these moun- 
 tain coves. Katie's increasing beauty and bright- 
 ness excited the env}^ of her childhood associates 
 and they were not slow in letting her know that 
 she was "gitten too smart fur her raisin." More 
 than once she was accused of getting "book 
 larnin'' and of being "too bigitty fur the company 
 of decent folks whut makes they livin with ther 
 own hans." 
 
 The sun had not long peeped over the eastern 
 
 horizon, and Mrs, Kelly, having finished her morn. 
 
 ing work, had just swept around the front door of 
 
 her little cabin and seated herself in a splint-bot- 
 tom chair by the side of the door, when Mrs. Flen- 
 nlgan rode leisurely by on her shambling * 'cork- 
 screw" pony. 
 
ilOW ZACH CAMK 'TO COLLEGE 5f 
 
 "Good moruin' Miss Flennigan, good morniu' 
 and how's all at yo' house?" inquired Mrs. Kelly 
 
 in a peculiar screaking voice that found its way 
 
 into every crack and crevice of the neighboring 
 
 hills. 
 
 "All well, thank God, and how's all wid you- 
 ans?" 
 
 "Powerful poorl}^, powerful poorly, Miss Flen- 
 nigan: Mose is got a sore toe, Jake sprained his 
 ankle jdstiddy and Liza's got a misery in her side 
 this mornin, — but name a gracious, Miss Flenni- 
 gan, whar you be gwineso soon this fine mornin?" 
 
 "Why I'm gwine to the quiltiu at Miss Young 
 blood's — aint youansbe got no invite?" 
 
 "Invite? Sakes alive, weans aint even as much 
 as hearn tell of it. And I be bound that's the work 
 of that thar Katie Langford, a miserable, little, 
 bigitty hussy. She didn't want my gals thar to 
 out-shine her, and I be bound 'twar her doins that 
 kept Miss Youngblood from sendin' us the invite." 
 
 To fail to get an "invite" to a quilting was a 
 fearful blow to one's pride, and a discount to her 
 social standing beyond reparation in "these parts," 
 
52 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 
 
 and no one could feel a thing of this kind more 
 keenly than Mrs. Kelly and her "gals." 
 
 Katie was late reporting at the quilting that day. 
 The conversation between Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. 
 Flennigan was properly seasoned and dished out 
 by the latter dame to those who sat around the 
 quilting frame, due care being taken, of course, to 
 
 prevent Mrs. Youngblood from hearing it, 
 
 "Miss Kelly is about right in her notion of that 
 
 cretur," said Miss Tarrant, an elderly maiden lady 
 who had no special business of her own, but did 
 not hesitate to attend promptly to that of her neigh_ 
 bors. "Why, bless 3'our life, I was thar tother 
 day to see her mamm}^, and that impident little 
 hussy sot thar the whole time with a pencil een one 
 han an' a book een t'other; and thar she read and 
 scratched, and scratched and read till nigh on to 
 sun down. I told her she'd never make a woman 
 worth any man's time, ef she didn't put them 
 things outen her bans. I told her a broom handle 
 would suit her hans a heap better' n that thar pen- 
 cil and the rattle of a dishpan would do her a sight 
 more good than all she could git outen that book. ' ' 
 "And what did she say then?" queried Miss Ma- 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvI^KGE 53 
 
 tilda Jones who had as unselfishly as possible 
 watched Katie's rapid development and Zach's in- 
 creasing affection for her. 
 
 "What did she say? Bless your soul, chile, she 
 jess flung that little curl back often her forehead, 
 and turned them black e}- es o' hern on me, and she 
 pinted her forefinger rdne blank at me, she did, 
 and she said with her voice a tremblin: 
 
 'Miss Tarrant, God never made women to sweep 
 and wash dishes all ther days and ef you had im- 
 proved the talents God gave you, you might have 
 made 3-ourself worth some man's time and you 
 wouldn't have been a long-necked skinny old maid 
 to-day.'" 
 
 "Lor-sa-massy!" exclaimed a chorus of voices. 
 "And did she say that, Miss Tarrant?" 
 
 ''Course she did and more too; wh}'- that gal aint 
 feeard of man nor devil. When she said that, I 
 jist perlitely told her that I would rither be a old 
 maid with along neck than to be tied to sich a 
 thing as she was hankerin arter; for old Big Zach 
 was nothin but a tub of mush, no how." 
 
 "Geminy, you did give her a good un,'' said 
 
54 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.LKGE 
 
 Mrs. Wampole, after the laughter had subsided. 
 "Did that satisfy the little smart}^ then?" 
 
 ''Ivordy, no; why she jist up and said: 'Why, 
 Miss Tarrant, Big Zach, as you call him, lights his 
 pipe every mornin' with things better'n you is. 
 Why 5^ou looks jist like somebody had tied your 
 neck around a limb and left you there all summer 
 to dry out; and now ma'm, thar's the door and 
 thar's the road, you can take 'em both.'* 
 
 "And what did 3^ou do?" asked more than one. 
 
 "Me? why, I jist tuck 'em both, and anybody 
 else would a done — " 
 
 "Good mornin, Katie, good mornin' honej^ you 
 are late this morning, but come right in, your com- 
 any is always welcome in this house. ' ' 
 
 With this warm reception, Katie Langford was 
 ushered by Mrs. Youngblood into the presence of 
 the ladies sitting around the quilting frame, 
 
 With laughing eyes and cheeks aglow with the 
 rich warm blood that flowed through her veins, 
 the bright young girl whose entrance so unceremon- 
 iously checked the conversation around the quilt- 
 ing frame, promptly rendered her excuse for being 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 55 
 
 tardy, and, in a little time, was comfortably seated 
 and rapidly plying*her needle. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The mountaineer was not a genius, but a patient, 
 persistent worker. He was a man, with faith in 
 himself and in God. During the next two years 
 he did faithful, lefEective college work and ''walked 
 in his integrity." Then, again, he left college for 
 a year to replenish his depleted purse. And it 
 was during this "off year" that he had his sever- 
 est trials. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the inhabitants of the 
 mountain regions of North Carolina, and however 
 amusing their vernacular may sound at times to 
 the cultured ear, of one thing the reader may be 
 sure: they are not all fools. 
 
 They sa.w that Zach, their own neighbor, a 
 mountain boy born and reared among them, was 
 not the same rough 5'oung man that left them to 
 go to college a few j'ears before. Thej^ knew, — 
 the most ignorant of them could see, — that he wks 
 a broader, deeper, stronger man; a man becoming 
 daily fuller of sympathy and love and better fitted 
 
56 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 for being something and doing something in life. 
 This, "all hands" admitted; but for that very- 
 thing, some people despised him. Verily, human 
 nature is a strange thing. But Zach had his 
 friends, staunch friends, men and women who be- 
 lieve in helping the young man who helps himself. 
 Beaver Dam Springlwas a famous meeting place. 
 
 Three quarters of a century ago, the mountaineers 
 met there to hear Fourth of July orations, to take 
 part in "gander pullings," to engage in target 
 shooting, to fill up on the purest of "mountain- 
 dew" and to settle old disputes by stripping to the 
 waist, entering a ring and fighting it out "fist and 
 
 skull." 
 
 In the 70's, political campaign meetings were 
 
 held at this famous gathering place, and picnic 
 
 parties assembled there, but "gander pullings" 
 
 were no longer indulged in, human nature itself 
 
 at last revolting against the cruelty of the sport. 
 
 When Zach announced on Tuesday that the 
 school should have the next day as holiday on ac- 
 count of the campaign meeting at "Beaver Dam," 
 there was general rejoicing, particularly on the 
 part of the larger boys. 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 57 
 
 Wednesday was an ideal day, and many hun* 
 dreds of mountaineers of both sexes took advan- 
 tage of it to go to Beaver Dam and see the folks 
 and hear the news. It was a good-natured crowd 
 but candidates were numerous and industrious, and 
 after a few hours, political excitement ran high. 
 
 There were no issues among the candidates for 
 the House of Representatives, so each candidate 
 tried to win votes by being as pleasant as he could 
 and saying the things the least objectionable. 
 
 Zach, "The Perfesser," was a patient listener 
 to everything that was said, — the wise and the un- 
 wise alike. 
 
 Things went well until the last speaker, Zeb 
 Vance Watts, concluded his speech. In the course 
 of his remarks, he said: 
 
 "Fellow citizens, as grand and glorious as our 
 country i^ in her history and in her traditions, she 
 would be infinitely grander and more glorious but 
 for the contemptable fanaticism of some of her 
 citizens. Our liberties have been taken from us one 
 by one till after awhile we will be shorn of all our 
 glory and strength, and become a pauper band with 
 
58 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COIvLEGE 
 
 no will of our own and no power to execute it if 
 
 we had it. Our fathers made their corn into liquor 
 
 and drank and sold it at their, pleasure. Now, you 
 
 dare not do it for fear of being shot down like dogs 
 
 by Northern scoundrels called revenue officers. 
 
 I believe that every man has the God-given right, 
 
 and ought to have the legal right, to make every 
 
 grain of his corn into liquor, if he sees fit, and sell 
 it wherever he pleases." 
 
 More than one revenue officer had "bit the dust' ' 
 
 in the neighborhood of Beaver Dam, and this play 
 
 upon the prejudices of the auditors brought forth 
 
 round after round of applause. 
 
 "Go it Watts, by gosh, I'll vote fur you," cried 
 
 a soggy moonshiner leaning against a tree hard by. 
 
 Encouraged by this enthusiastic applause, Watts 
 
 the young barrister, threw his head and shoulders 
 
 back, and, raising his voice till it penetrated many 
 
 of the mountain fastnesses continued, "'No fellow 
 
 citizens, this infernal revenue law, put upon us by 
 
 white-livered Yankees, is a curse to our civilization. 
 
 The blood of some of your own fathers and sons, 
 
 shot down in cold blood by these revenue officers, 
 
 cries out to you for vengeance." 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 59 
 
 Here the voice of the speaker was drowned by 
 the thunderous applause, and he concluded it was 
 a good time to take his seat. The applause at last 
 subsiding, several enthusiastic admirers cried out: 
 "We'll send you, old boy. Hurrah for Watts!" 
 
 Zeb Vance Watts felt that he had covered him- 
 self with glor}^, and he took his seat with an air 
 that said: "I have captured the whole crowd." 
 
 Not so. Scarcely had the last echo of the tu- 
 multuous applause died away down the valley, 
 when a large, handsome man stepped upon the 
 platform and asked permission of the chairman to 
 make a few remarks. He was recognized at once 
 as "Zach, the Perfesser," and more than one said: 
 "Hush, thar's Zach; he's gwine to speak." 
 
 "That's right, Zach, talk it out!" exclaimed a 
 half score of voices. 
 
 The mountaineer, standing erect and with the 
 muscles of his face twitching slightly, said in a 
 strong, clear voice that rang out over that immense 
 crowd: 
 
 "My friends, I am no stranger to you. Born 
 and reared among you, we have breathed the same 
 
6o HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 
 
 fresh air, imbibed the same independent spirit and 
 loved the same mountain scenery. You are my 
 people and I belong to the people of Beaver Dam 
 Cove; for that reason I claim the right to speak 
 very plainly to you today.'' 
 
 "Hurrah for Zach! Tell it to us, Zach; tell it 
 to us!" 
 
 ' 'I should not have opened my mouth, but for 
 the speech ftiide b}- Zebulon Vance Watts, Esq. 
 Hearing that, I could not hold ni}^ peace without 
 doing violence to my conscience, nor could I have 
 kept silent and been true to your interests, or true 
 to m57self. 
 
 "By that speech the gentleman brings reproach 
 
 upon the name of one of North Carolina's most 
 distinguished citizens. The Hon. Zebulon Vance 
 
 would not own his namesake today, if he could 
 hear such utterances fall from his lips. 
 
 "I pit}^ the man who, having learned a few 
 things from books, concludes that all other people 
 less favored than himself are soft-headed fools 
 who may be led around by the nose by such a 
 two-by-four lawyer as the Hon. Zebulon Vance 
 Watts." 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^LEGE 6l 
 
 •'Hurrah for our Zach!" ''Tell it to him, 
 Zach!" 
 
 "The gentleman convicts himself of inexcusable 
 ignorance, or he attempts to play upon your pas- 
 sions and prejudices as if you were a set of ignor- 
 amuses. Let him take either horn of the dilem- 
 ma. In the one case, he shows himself a fool; in 
 the other a knave.'' 
 
 Springing to his feet, Watts advanced a few 
 steps toward the speaker and said in an excited 
 way, 
 
 "Do you mean to question my veracity, sir?" 
 
 Turning his eyes full upon the barrister and 
 pointing his finger directly at him, Zach said in a 
 calm, penetrating voice: 
 
 "I mean to prove to this audience, sir, that 5^ou 
 are either a fool or a knave; sit down and take 
 
 your medicine like a man." 
 
 "Hurrah for Watts!" "hurrah for Watts!" 
 screamed his admirers. "Knock him off the 
 stand, W^atts; pull his nose!" 
 
 Watts was not without his friends, by any 
 means, nor was he a boy himself, balancing the 
 
^2 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^I^KGE 
 
 scales as he did at 220. But Zach's fighting blood 
 was stirred, and never was the sarcasm of Wen- 
 dell Phillips more withering than the defiant 
 manner of this son of the mountains. 
 
 Watts took his seat, incurring thereby the dis- 
 pleasure of his half drunk henchmen. 
 
 ''This man has talked to you very glibly of how 
 things us(id to be," continued the mountaineer. 
 "He tells you that there was a time when our 
 fathers made and sold whiskey as freely as they 
 drank in this mountain air. He might have told 
 you there was a time when our fathers burnt 
 witches at the stake — but do we do that now? 
 He might have told j^ou there was a time in the 
 not distant past when our fathers just over there 
 by that spring engaged in the fearful sport of 
 gander pulling — do we do that now? He might 
 have told you there was a time when just over the 
 hill there our fathers gambled for beef and mutton 
 ■by shooting at a target — do we do it now? No 
 indeed. But why were these things not kept up? 
 The times change and we change with them. As 
 the years go by men become wiser and better, and 
 we who live in the blazing light of the latter part 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGK 63 
 
 of the igth century cannot approve of many 
 things our fathers did. We honor their memo- 
 ries, emulate their virtues, but we do not propose 
 to repeat their mistakes. 
 
 **The manner in which you vote will test, not 
 only 3^our own patriotism, but your intelligence. 
 We don't boast of much culture in Beaver Dam 
 Cove, but God knows that our men are just as 
 brave and just as patriotic as ever donned the blue 
 or the gray, and our women are just as pure as 
 the 'icicles that hang on Dian's temple.' I see 
 among you men who followed Lee and Jackson 
 with unfaltering tread. You have no apology for 
 what you did, but when the sun of the Southern 
 Confederacy was set, you laid down your arms 
 and swore allegiance to the flag of our common 
 countr}^ I knew but little of my brave father 
 who sleeps in a soldier's grave in Virginia, but I 
 believe if he were here today he would denounce 
 the sentiment of the gentleman who seeks your 
 votes by an attempt to arouse your prejudices and 
 keep up the bitter feelings existing between the 
 two sections of our great country. ' ' 
 
■'.;. 
 
 64 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 "Hurrah for Jim Whetstone! Hurrah for our 
 Captain!" 
 
 This allusion to Captain Jim Whetstone was 
 more than the old soldiers could stand. No more 
 recklessly brave man than Jim Whetstone ever 
 followed Wade Hampton to battle. This outburst 
 of tumultuous applause was a voluntary tribute to 
 the memory of the brave Confederate, and the 
 honest, simple-minded veterans that looked into 
 the face of the speaker before them knew that he 
 was the ''worthy son of a worthy sire,'' and that 
 he would fight for truth and right and sobriet}^ 
 with just as dauntless courage as was ever dis- 
 played by the gallant Captain on the bloodiest 
 battle-field. 
 
 But Zach's courage was to be tested. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 After so completely routing Zebulon Vance 
 Watts at the campaign meeting, Zach w^as the 
 hero of Beaver Dam Cove. Old men who had 
 known and loved his father, predicted for the 
 young "Perfesser" a great future. They could 
 see the fearlessness of the father in the son, and 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 65 
 
 could conceive of no higher t3^pe of manhood. 
 Old ladies were enthusiastic in their praises of the 
 young man, and the girls looked askance at Katie 
 Langford; while the young men were divided 
 into two groups — the one admiring, the other 
 despising the companion of their boyhood days 
 who had grown away from them — above them — 
 since the day he first entered college. 
 
 In the old days, every county in North Carolina 
 had its "bully;'' and in some counties, that dig- 
 nitary has not 3'et "passed.'' His proud distinc- 
 tion is to be able to throw down and "lick'' every 
 other man in his county. In the early 70' s, Mike 
 Dixon was the bull}^ Of Rutherford County. 
 
 Joel Samiter was a country dude. He was 
 rather slender, had the countenance of a fox, wore 
 a red cravat, a "biled shirt,'' parted his hair in 
 the middle, and tugged constantly at a wee bit of 
 a moustache that vainly struggled for existence. 
 He kept a little country store, too — this man 
 Samiter — and sold "manifac" tobacco, real "man- 
 
 ac,'' a fev>' Virginia cheroots, and an occasional 
 hank of yarn to some good housewife who needed 
 
66 HOW ZACH came to COIvLEGE 
 
 it in weaving her winter's supply of cloth. He 
 was not accused of selling whiske}^ but it ^vas 
 noticed that the moonshiners of the Cove were 
 fond of gathering at hisplace of business. 
 
 Samiter was a great ladies' man, called himself 
 "the smasher," and dangled more than one 
 mountain lassie's scalp at his belt. He was a 
 political heeler, too; was a bitter, scheming par- 
 tisan, and was courted and flattered by local 
 politicians. 
 
 Being an ardent admirer of Zebulon Vance 
 Watts, Samiter felt chagrinned by the drubbing 
 given that gentleman by the "Perfesser" at thg 
 campaign meeting, and swore by all that was 
 good and bad to humiliate the teacher. 
 
 But Watts' defeat was not the only grudge 
 Samiter had against Zach: Katie Langford had 
 snubbed "the smasher" the Sunday before, and, 
 now, the "Perfesser" must be humiliated. 
 
 "Now" I've got it, by gosh!" said Joel Samitej- 
 to himself one afternoon, after sitting for a long 
 time in a brown study. "Now I've got it, and 
 I'll have my revenge." 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLKGK 67 
 
 Without further solihoqu}', Samiter saddled his 
 horse and rode five miles to Bill CarLlet's. 
 
 The sun was just setting behind the hills when 
 Cartlet, with his axe on his shoulder, crossed the 
 road just in front of his cabin. 
 
 ''Hello, Bill, old fellow, how you wuz? Whar 
 you bin down dar wid dat axe on your shoulder 
 pretendin' like you powerful industrious?" 
 
 Samiter was not a native of the Cove, or of the 
 county, and had enjoyed considerably better edu- 
 cational advantages than his friends and patrons, 
 but he was a good judge of human nature, and 
 could drop into the vernacular of Beaver Dam 
 with the greatest possible ease. 
 
 ''Hello, yoself, Joel; I'm doin' tolerable cepin 
 I'm monstus tired," drolled out Bill Cartlet, at the 
 same time biting off a fresh chew from his twist 
 of home-raised tobacco. 
 
 "Whut you bin doin wid dat axe, Bill?" 
 "Jist a choppin doun some dead trees over thai 
 in de new groun I cleared lass year." 
 
 "Dat's so; I heard you wus a gwine ter have a 
 log-rollin soon; is dat right?" 
 
68 HOW ZACH camp: to coli.kg:s 
 
 "Yes, dat's right; I wus jist a thinking about 
 pinten nex Wednesday week and axen the boys 
 to come in and gi' me a lift.'' 
 
 "Now, Bill}', old boy, dat's jis whut I come to 
 see you 'bout,'' said Joel in his sweetest tones, 
 dismounting the while from his frisky pony. "I 
 heeard you wuz gwine to have a roUin, and I jis 
 come over to chat you bout it, bein's I knowed 
 you speckin ter invite me, you an' me bein' sich 
 good friends. You see, Billy, I want you to have 
 the log-rollin on Sadday stiddier Wednesday." 
 
 "And whut fur?" said Cartlet. 
 
 "Cause, you see — well, Billy — well, I'll jist 
 have ter let you in ter de secret. You an me is 
 good friends an I know you'll stand. I've got a 
 plan." 
 
 "Well, whut is it?" 
 
 "Set down here on this log an I'll tell ye. You 
 know, you an me an some the yuther boys wus 
 powerful tuck back tother day when Zach chawed 
 up Zeb Watts jes lak he did. Dat all-fired speech 
 wus the thing whut beat W^atts in the 'lection. 
 Sho as Betsy's my gal, dat done the work, and I 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^IvEGK 69 
 
 want ter git even wid Zach. Nuther thing: that 
 
 gal er hisern, dat stuck up Katie Langford gi' me 
 
 de cole shoulder lass Sunday, and I want ter make 
 
 her feel bad. So I want you to have your rollin 
 
 on Sadday an invite the teacher." 
 
 "Well, how de devil is dat goin ter git even 
 
 wid him, or mek the little gal feel bad?" 
 
 "Now look er here, Bill, this betwixt me an 
 
 you, an ter go no f urder. You invite Mike Dixon 
 
 and I'm goin to hire Mike to pick a fuss wid de 
 
 Perfesser and lick him, by gosh! How's that?" 
 
 "Dat'll do very well," drolled Cartlet, squirting 
 
 the yellow spittle throngh his fingers. "Dat'll do 
 very well, providin Mike kin lick him,'' 
 
 "Lick him! My gosh, man, isn't Dixon the 
 bull}^ of the Cove?" asked Joel, excitedly, losing 
 for the time the vernacular of the neighborhood. 
 
 "Yes, but he aint never tackled Zach Whet- 
 stone. Joel, did you see Zach's eyes when he 
 spoke at the meetin'? Now I don't know every- 
 thing, but I knows some things. That man will 
 fight, an' he's a powerful man. They tell me he 
 jist lak his daddy, and the old soldiers say the old 
 Captain was a tiger in a fight. They say he 
 
 i 
 
70 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLIvEGE 
 
 never let up, but jist shot his eyes and hilt on till 
 the other fellow hollowed, 'calf-rope.'" 
 
 "Dat makes no diffunce," said Joel. "You ax 
 
 Mike Dixon, an' he'll sho make Zach tote his cot- 
 ton." 
 
 "O, I'll ax him; certainny, I'll ax him," said 
 
 Cartlet. "I'll ax him, beca'se I don't object to 
 
 seein' a little wool-puUin' myself." 
 
 "Alright, Bill, alright, old fellow. And you'll 
 pint Sadday week as the day." 
 
 "Yes; Sadday week." 
 
 ''Good boy! good night Billy!" and Joel flung 
 
 himself into his saddle, and giving free rein to the 
 
 restless Mustang, galloped over the hill, dreaming 
 
 of his own revenge and Zach's humiliation. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Saturday week dawned clear and bright. About 
 thirty neighbors gathered early to help Bill Cart- 
 let roll his logs. Zach, the "Perfesser" was among 
 them, for though within one year of graduation 
 and now regarded the best educated man in the 
 cove, he was not above lending a helping hand to 
 a neighbor as he had done from his 5^outh up. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLT.KGE 7 1 
 
 At tjcit time, in that region, the "corn-shuck- 
 ing" an.! the "log-rolling" were to the men what 
 the "quilting"' was to the women. From a business 
 point of view, these gatherings were beneficial to 
 individuals, and socially were verj^ helpful to all 
 
 concerned. 
 
 At the "log-rollings," many a test of strength 
 
 was made, for pulling at the "hand-stick" was the 
 favorite method of measuring one's muscles. To 
 be able to pull one's mate to his knees while lift- 
 ing a heavj- log was prima facie evidence of super- 
 ior physical strength. In those da3\s before the 
 railroads had penetrated the mountain regions 
 carr5dng with them the saw-mill, lumber was "no 
 object," to express it in the language of the moun- 
 taineer; and when a clearing was made, the only 
 thing that could be done with the timber was to 
 
 pile the logs into great heaps and burn them. 
 When men entered the field to pile these logs, 
 
 they were paired generally according to size. So 
 
 at Cartlet's log-rolling, by common consent, Zach 
 
 was paired with Mike Dixon, the "bully." It was 
 a pair of powerful men. Dixon was a few pounds 
 heavier, but both were muscular and agile as cats* 
 
 i 
 
72 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I.KGK 
 
 Many a heavy log yielded to the touch of the 
 two giants, and in a few hours, the well-matched 
 pair became objects of special interest to the entire 
 crowd. At one time, the teacher succeeded in 
 putting one knee of the Irishman on the ground. 
 Mike claimed tliat he was fouled, but in the judg- 
 ment of the witnesses, it was fairly done and was 
 so declared. There was nothing for Mike to do 
 but to accept their judgment. He yielded, but 
 uttered one or two bitter oaths and leaned to his 
 hand-stick again. 
 
 The contest was now exciting. Men left their 
 own log-heaps to come and watch the two big fel- 
 lows. 
 
 Joel Samiter was greatlj^ excited and offered to 
 bet his horse against the "mangiest calf in the 
 cove" that the Irishman would pull the teacher 
 down before night. 
 
 "I'll take that bet," said Uncle Joe Morrow, a 
 very old man who came, not to assist in the work, 
 but just to watch the young men exhibit their 
 strength. "I'll take that bet, young man. You'll 
 never see it done,'' 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI^KGR 73 
 
 ''Look out thar, you scoundrel, and keep off my 
 toe!" It was Mike Dixon who spoke, and he was 
 looking into the ej^es of his mate, the teacher, who 
 stood just beyond the log at the other end of his 
 hand-stick. 
 
 '*I beg your pardon," said Zach calmly. "I 
 didn't mean to step on your toe, of course." 
 
 **Youarea liar," said the Irishman, "you 
 
 done it on purpose." 
 
 "Mr. Dixon," said the mountaineer quietly, "I 
 am sorry you said that, and unless you apologize 
 for it I shall make you sorry." 
 
 "Apologize? Apologize to you, you son of a — ? * 
 
 Zach turned a little pale and then said with a 
 slight tremor in his voice: 
 
 "Now, then, sir, it's too late, you can't apolo- 
 gize. You've got to fight me." 
 
 "Fair fight, gentlemen, fair fight!" cried several, 
 and Billy Cartlet proceeded to make a ring about 
 fifteen feet in diameter. 
 
 A fight at a corn shucking or a log-rolling was 
 not an uncommon thing; so all the other men gath- 
 ered round the ring while the two giants walked 
 
 i 
 
74 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 into the center. It was a great fight and destined 
 to bring many surprises to that group of simple- 
 hearted mountaineers. 
 
 Dixon had plenty of pluck; he really liked the 
 business. He forced the fighting for a while, Zach 
 guarding easily and cautiously, and hitting him 
 on the nose just hard enough to draw a little blood 
 and just often enough to keep him fighting furi- 
 ously. 
 
 Gradually there came over the Irishman's face a 
 look of amazement; he ceased forcing the fight and 
 for a moment stood facing his opponent. For the 
 first time he had met his match. 
 
 "Now, Dixon, will you apologize?" said the 
 teacher, lowering his arms. 
 
 "No: 3'OU, I won't!" he answered quickly. 
 
 Dixon was an Irishman, and would rather die 
 than acknowledge defeat. 
 
 "Then I shall hurt you," said Zach, and suiting 
 his actions to his words, he struck him one, two, 
 three terrific blows, and put the Irishman on his 
 back. 
 
 The mountaineer folded his arms across his 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 75 
 
 breast and waited till his dazed antagonist stag- 
 gered to his feet. 
 
 ''Will 3^on apologize now?" he asked again. 
 
 "No; damn you!" was the stubborn reply. 
 
 "Then look out," said Zach; and the next in- 
 stant the spectators saw Mike's feet in the air and 
 his toes quivering. 
 
 "Foul play!" shrieked Samiter, and leaped into 
 the ring with a long, keen bladed knife in his 
 hand. 
 
 "Stop, thar!" It was Luther Satterwhite look- 
 ing along the barrel of an old Colt's revolver. 
 "You jist hold up, Joel, or I'll let the day ligh- 
 into you." 
 
 Luther was one of the big boys in Beaver Dam 
 school and loved his teacher. Samiter knew the re- 
 putation of the lad and staggered back to his place 
 around the ring. 
 
 "He'd apologize now, Zachie, ef he could, but 
 
 he'll never do it in this world, for in my judgment, 
 
 he's passed in his checks. " 
 
 It was Uncle Joe Morrow who spoke. He had 
 seen many a fight, but never one "done so nice as 
 that." 
 
 i 
 
76 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI^EGK 
 
 "Fling a leetle water iu Mike's face thar, boys, 
 
 he'll come all right arter awhile," continued the 
 
 old man. 
 
 "I didn't mean to hit him quite so hard," said 
 
 the mountaineer, 'I hope he'll soon be better." 
 
 Dixon groaned heavily. The teacher^s counte- 
 nance brightened, and, looking down into the face 
 of his antagonist, he said: "Gentlemen, I am sorry 
 
 I hid to do this, — the poor fellow is suffering." 
 The fight broke up tlie log-rolling. Dixon 
 
 pulled through and went home a wiser man, and 
 Joel Samiter, instead of getting revenge was him- 
 self disgusted and humiliated beyond measure. 
 Zach disliked such notoriety as that day's work 
 
 would give him, but consoled himself with the 
 thought that no self-respecting man could submit 
 to such insulting language. Down in the moun- 
 taineer's heart, he was glad that during the previ- 
 ous 5^ear he had spent so manj^ of his recreation 
 hours taking boxing lessons from a bosom friend 
 and classmate. Dixon was as powerful as Zach) 
 and as game as C^sar, but Zach's scientific blows 
 knocked the Irishman out and opened the eyes of 
 all who saw them. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI.EGE 77 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Sunday morning dawned clear and gray, and 
 long before preaching time a great crowd of men, 
 women and children had gathered at the church 
 to discuss, recuss, and cuss the all-absorbing inci- 
 dent of the day before. >j 
 
 The average human being, whatever his stage 
 of civilization, glories in a fight, and the inhabi- 
 tants of Horse Foot were no exception to the rule. 
 To lick Dixon, "the cock o' the walk,'' 'the count}'- 
 bull}^" in a fair fight, "fist and skull," was an 
 achievement calculated to put one's name on every 
 tongue. 
 
 Zach regretted the occurrence, but he had no 
 apologies to make. His notoriety was particu- 
 larly embarrassing to him, when he walked up to 
 the church and saw all eyes turned toward 
 himself. And Zach knew, too, that in spite of 
 the protestations of friendship made by so many 
 of his neighbors after the memorable campaign 
 meeting, there were many who would have been 
 glad deep down in their hearts to see Dixon knock 
 him out. He knew, too, that on that church 
 
«■ 
 
 78 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLI.KGE: 
 
 yard there were two factions, one, possibly the 
 smaller, in full sympathy with all his efforts to 
 improve himself and benefit the community; the 
 other, the younger element, envious and jealous, 
 and wishing him evil and only evil since he openly 
 avowed his opposition to what they considered 
 their most sacred right — the making and selling of 
 "mounting dew." 
 
 On the Eastern slope of Bald Mountain, known 
 as "De Ball" by the denizens of its fastnesses, is 
 a notorious cave. For many, many years, this 
 cave was the home of wild beasts, as nature inten- 
 ded, and continued to be till wilder man drove 
 them out and took possession for his own unlawful 
 purposes. For more than fifty years, in one of 
 ir»^= its recesses, moonshiners had distilled their corn 
 
 and apples. It was difficult of access, rock-ribbed 
 and approachable only on one side. More than 
 one officer of the law, having run the gauntlet 
 and raided "The still," "bit the dust" before he 
 had reached the plains below. Jake Ilderton in- 
 herited the cave and the still with all their bloody 
 traditions and from Steve Ilderton, his father, 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLI^KGE 79 
 
 who fell at the hands of "de revenue" while fight- 
 ing for his own, just five years before. And it 
 was Jake's own bullet that pierced the heart of 
 the successful raider that moonlit night while he 
 passed "de clump o' laurel jest beyant de bridge 
 over Little Beaverdam." Jake was considered a 
 desperate character, four men having fallen at the 
 bidding of "long Tom," his rifle. But Jake was 
 kind hearted. He was passionately fond of chil- 
 dren, reverenced -what he called " 'oman kind," 
 and would die for "truth and jestis" anj^where 
 and any when. "I've got no usen," he often 
 said, "fur a dovvied coward er a sneak; I loves the 
 open truth an' a far fight uvertime.'' 
 
 'Twas Saturda}^ night. The weather was warm 
 and a half dozen mountaineers sat around on the 
 heads of barrels and kegs as far as they could get 
 from the heat of the still and yet within range of 
 flickering rays of light given out by a sputtering, 
 odoriferous, brass lamp. Among the loungers who 
 had gathered to discuss the news of the week and 
 to sample the latest output of apple-jack, were 
 Joe Davis and Joel Samiter. 
 
8o HOW ZACH came: to COI.I.KGK 
 
 Three weeks had come and gone since the great 
 log-rolling which came so near ending in a tragedy 
 in which Zach, the teacher, had pla)^ed so promi- 
 nent a part. Samiter was sore yet over the defeat 
 oi Zeb Vance Watts, and sorer still over the lickin' 
 Dixon, the bully, got at the log-rolling. Usually 
 talkative, he was tonio:ht quiet and meditative. 
 
 Davis was a small man with little wolfish eyes, 
 dull, sandy hair that hung down over his shoul. 
 ders, and a disgusting yellow beard, every end of 
 which seemed to turn back upon its root as if en- 
 deavoring to hide itself out of pure shame and 
 giving the face an appearance not unlike that of a 
 yellow, frizzled chicken. His long, bony nose 
 was out of plumb; it seemed to hang on one side 
 of his face as if knocked out of joint by coming in 
 too close contact with some man's fist. His upper 
 teeth protruded so that he could not under any cir- 
 cumstances close his lips. There, surrounded by 
 granite walls, in the dim, flickering, uncertain 
 light of the brass lamp, he made a picture long to 
 be remembered. To make up for the many things 
 of which she deprived the unfortunate fellow. 
 
How ZACH CAME TO COI.I.EGK ^I 
 
 nature gave him an extra-long tongue. Davis 
 talked too much. 
 
 A little farther than the others from the red- 
 hot door of the furnace was one man lying flat on 
 his back on the dirt floor of the cave. Muscular 
 and brawny was he, and lay with hands clasped 
 under his head, while the stem of a cob pipe 
 hung between his teeth, and clouds of smoke came 
 from his lips in lazy, indifferent puffs. Jake 
 Ilderton, king of Horse Foot Cove, laughed "in 
 his sleeves" at the picture before him, and 
 wondered, "whut een de name o' God was sich a 
 lookin' tiling ez Joe Davis put een dis wurl fur 
 nohow?" 
 
 Each man "slept on his arms," as it were, for 
 a rumor had been afloat for ten days that the 
 raiders were on the war path and might be ex- 
 pected any night to make a swoop on Horse Foot 
 still. According to the ethics of the cove, no 
 man was expected to visit the still unless he was 
 willing to defend it against all raiders and die for 
 it if need be. 
 
 Every phase of the report was discussed, expe- 
 
82 HOW ZACH CAME TO COTXKGE 
 
 riences exchanged, and incidents of man}^ previous 
 raids were told and retold until long after mid- 
 night. All had heard that raiders were astir, 
 but not one could give the name of the informer 
 and that seemed to be of more interest to the 
 party than the fact that a raid was imminent. In 
 Horse Foot Cove, the unwritten law was, ''The 
 informer must die." 
 
 "I dassent say fur sartin," said Joe Davis, 
 kicking the side of a barrel on which he sat, "I 
 dassent say fur sartin, but I's jest bleeged ter 
 b'lieve dat de teacher is de man what gin de still 
 away. I bleeged ter think it. Ye see, two year 
 ago and leetle better, when De Ball wus a-shakin' 
 and folks was skeerdt outen der shoes, a great big 
 man and a lot o' yuther fellers kim up here fum 
 sumus down een de fiat. De called daselves students 
 and pertended to be zaminin 'De Ball'; de stuck 
 sumpin een de springs, and pecked on de rocks 
 and medjuredde hills, an' Zach kim 'longwid 'em 
 an' showed 'em uver whar. Folks didn't lak it 
 den kase Zack was wid 'em peekin' 'round de 
 mounting. Some uv 'em 'lowed den Zach wus a- 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLIvKGK 83 
 
 gwine too fur. He des uachily covorted 'round 
 de mounting pintin out uvertliing." 
 
 In the early 70' s, Bald Mountain did behave in 
 such a manner as to frighten the mountaineers. 
 Dishes were rattled and broken and strange rumb- 
 ling noises were heard. Prof. Warren DuPre of 
 Wofford College, took his class in Geology to visit 
 the mountain, and spent several days examining 
 the rocks and springs. 
 
 "Some 'lowed de whole bilin uv 'em," continued 
 Davis, "wus jes a-lookin' out fur de smoke o' de 
 still." 
 
 "Den agin, Zach's gittin too all-fired smart. 
 He don't talk lak weans no more. He wants 
 uverbody to go to church and Sunday School. 
 Ye know he tuk up a Sunday School 'bout a mont 
 ago an' he wants uverbody to jine. He gits up 
 an' talks, he do. He says sat stiddier sot an' all 
 sich ez that. I tell ye he air a bad aig. Some 
 says hes' a wolf in sheep's clothin'. He pertends 
 terbepow'ful 'ligious. Meks a prar ez long ez 
 fum here ter de eend uv de cave. I went over lass 
 Sunday." 
 
84 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI,I.EGl^) 
 
 ''Did he do you enny good, Joe?" interrupted 
 one. 
 
 "Me? no; how de devil ye spec him ter do me 
 enny good?" 
 
 "Dat so, souse me; I spec hit'd strain de Lord 
 hisself to do good ter sich a critter ez you is. ' ' 
 Then a hearty laugh at Joe's expense. 
 
 '*Ge' mens, you oughter bin tbarter hear Miss 
 Flennigin lambast Zach. 'Zachie,' she 'lowed, 'I 
 wus glad whenst ye tuk up the Sunday School, 
 an' hit did do my ole heart good so long ez ye 
 teached the childurn 'bout the Lord an' sich; but 
 now whenst 3^e git ter tellin' em 'bout obeyin' de 
 law and bein' good and keepin' sober, I haint no 
 furder use fer ye, — I'm agin ye.'" 
 
 "Old Zach 'lowed, 'Why, Miss Flennigin, don't 
 you want the childurn teached to be good and 
 obey the law?'" 
 
 "An' what did she say?" 
 
 "Lord, mun, you oughter seed her'ej^es. She 
 jes rared back on her hunkers, she did, and she 
 'lowed, 'No, sir, narry time; not sich laws ez 
 weans hes. Don't you know ez how my daddy 
 wus kilt by the revenues, and does you spec me 
 
HO\Y ZACH CAME TO COLLKGK 85 
 
 ter teach my childurn to 'bey de law arter dat? 
 
 No, sir, an' ef I wus jes a man I would mek you 
 
 stop sich teachin' ez this, er I'd let the day-light 
 
 thooye'." 
 
 '^\n whut did Zach say?" 
 
 "Gosh man; he turned jes ez red ez a beet, he 
 did, an' he 'lowed: 'Miss Flennigin, ye air a 
 'oman, an' kin say w^hut 3'ou please; I can't holp 
 myself. If ye wus a man, 3'ou wouldn't. I'm 
 agin stillin' an' I'm agin law-breakin, I'm gwine 
 ter teach the childurn to 'bey the law an' let 
 liquor 'lone'." 
 
 "Boys, sho ez ye air born, Zach air the man we 
 
 air arter. Jest say the word,'' patting the long, 
 blue barrel of his rifle, "an' I shall put 'im ter 
 sleep." 
 
 "Waal, do it Joe; do it afore another Sat'day 
 night." 
 
 "Dat's right,'' seconded two or three. 
 
 "Shet yo' durned mouths, ye set o' white-liv- 
 ered cow^ards. Here ye be a-plannin' fur ter kill 
 a man jes bekase he air got the grit ter stan' up 
 and tell ye whut he b'lieves air right. Shame on 
 ye, ye cowardly curs." 
 
86 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 
 
 It was Jake Ilderton why spoke, and he was 
 now leaning on one elbow and shaking his fist at 
 the men who had listened so patiently to Davis's 
 harangue. 
 
 "An you, Joe Davis," he continued, "ye 
 dinged, little measley, skeeter, Zach kin tek ye 
 atwixt his fingers and blow ye over de Ball, be he 
 mind ter. Ye aint no bigger'n a jay bird, but ye 
 kin mek ez much fuss wi' that thar bill o' yourn 
 ez ef ye was a woodpecker shor nuff. Say an- 
 other word, ye misble, little, biled owl, an' I'll 
 chuck ye head fo'most into this here furnis." 
 
 Jake Ilderton was king in Horse Foot Cove: hi^ 
 ipse dixit was law. Joe Davis had no more to 
 vSay. 
 
 "Now listen, 3^ou fellers," continued Ilderton — 
 after refilling his pipe — ' 'listen ter me and I'll tell 
 ye sumpin: 
 
 "I hearn this report. So lass Sat'day I got to 
 thinkin' 'bout it an' I jes thunk 'bout it til I got 
 desprit. I thunked 'bout that night when pap 
 wus kilt and I jest mounted my horse and rid out 
 'cross the kintry thar and hopin' an' a-prayin' I 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLKGE 87 
 
 mout meet some reveuue sueakin round. I wanted 
 ter kill somebody. I kim in sight o' Zach's. I 
 jes sa5'S, 'well I'll ride over and see Zach an' ef lie 
 don't talk right I'll put a eend ter him'. Zach 
 was plautiu' turnip seeds. I vSays, 'good evenin'." 
 
 **Zacli 'lowed, 'why howdy, Jake, I'm glad ter 
 see you; light. '" 
 
 "I says, 'no, I haint time, — come ter the fence, 
 Zach.' He kim." 
 
 "Now says I, 'I have hearn that the raiders air 
 around an' that ye air the informer. I kim over 
 to find out if dat is true'.'' 
 
 "I jest hilt my han' on my pistol, an' hit cocked 
 and Zach seed me, but he nuver flickered; he jes 
 zackly looked me square een the eye. Den he 
 'lowed,'' 
 
 "Now, look a-here, Jake, air you crazy. Don't 
 you know I don't drink liquor? Air I uver bin 
 ter your still? I don't know whar it is. How kin 
 I inform whar it is. No, Jake, dat ain't my busi- 
 ness. I'm agin liquor an' agin makin' it, but my 
 work is ter teach the childurn to let it alone and 
 arter awhile there'll be none o' it made. Now, 
 
88 HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvI^KGE 
 
 Jake, ef you wants ter shoot me fur dat, jes drap 
 in your little pills here fast ez ^^ou please, ' an' he 
 jes nachily pulled open his shirt bosom an' hilt it 
 open an' looked me straight in the eye." 
 
 "I knowed the man wus a-telling the truth, an' 
 I jes nachily tuck my hau' off mj^ gun an' says, 
 'scuse me, Zach, I mought knowed 'twus a lie. 
 So menny people hev laid it on 3'e, I 'eluded I'd 
 jes drap een an' ax ye'." 
 
 "I tell ye, boys, a man whut the childurn lays 
 sich store by can't be a informer. Bless 3^our soul, 
 my little Dorinda jes thinks her teacher is nachily 
 de bess man on de yearth, an' thar's Luther Sat- 
 terwhite says Zach is a born gen'man. Guess 
 you 'members Luther, don't you, Joel? De bess 
 grit een de Cove, ef he is jis a boy.'' 
 
 Jake had not mentioned this interview before, 
 being heartily ashamed of even suspecting the 
 teacher; but now felt constrained to talk of it and 
 to use the harsh language he did when he heard 
 his companions planning to kill the best man in 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 Day was breaking when the crowd dispersed. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 89 
 
 Davis was smarting under the language used by 
 JsVe Ilderton. Nudging Samiter at the mouth of 
 the cave, he said, holding up his long rifle: "Jo^^ 
 she kin talk jes ez strong ez Jake, — lay low." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Monday morning early found Joe Davis crawl- 
 ing over logs and rocks picking his way through 
 underbrush toward the road leading from Zach's 
 home to the school house. Taking advantage of 
 the rumor current, he determined to "put Zackto 
 sleep,'' despite the cursing he got from Jake. At 
 eight o'clock Zach passed within range of his rifle. 
 Joe raised his gun but his hand trembled and he 
 lowered the piece without touching the trigger. 
 He cursed himself for a coward, and the next 
 morning, having selected another position, re- 
 peated the effort with the same result. Now thor- 
 oughl}' disgusted with himself, he determined to 
 make one more attempt. So in the afternoon of 
 the next day, he squatted behind a huge chestnut 
 tree over whose roots Zach would walk on his 
 return home after school. 
 
 The shouts and laughter of the children as they 
 
90 HOW ZACH CAME TO COLI^EGK 
 
 made their way over the hills aud across the val- 
 leys, informed him that school was out. Nervous 
 and excited, he clutched his rifle and looked 
 intently through an opening in the laurel through 
 which he expected to shoot the teacher. 
 
 The murderous intent of the assassin was so 
 great that he neglected the opening in his rear 
 and knew not that any one was near him until the 
 cracking of a dry stick turned his eyes like a flash 
 behind him. There, within six feet of him and 
 lookin with astonishment upon him, was Katie 
 lyangford. 
 
 Joe's embarrassment was pitiable. A flash of 
 
 lightning from that clear skj^ would not have 
 
 disturbed him so. 
 
 "What in the world are you doing here, Mr. 
 
 Davis?^'' said the astonished girl. 
 
 "0, good evenin^, Miss Katie; how does youans 
 
 do?'' 
 
 ' 'What are your doing here, sir?-*' she demanded- 
 
 "O, I jes heeard a turkey gobble, and wus jes' 
 a watchin'' here ter see ef I couldn' git a crack at 
 nim. 
 
 The indignant girl said no more, but walked by 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 9 I 
 
 him with a glance that said, "I know your little 
 game and I''ve spoiled it." And she had. Katie 
 kept the path for a hundred 3^ards and stepped 
 out into the public road where she had promised 
 to meet Zach and go across the ridge to visit a 
 mutual friend. Davis sneaked off through the 
 laurel toward the hovel he called his home, and, 
 gritting his teeth, declared with an oath that 
 Providence didn't intend to have a hair of the 
 teacher "toch.'^ 
 
 Katie was trembling with excitement when 
 Zach took her hand in his. She told him quickl}^ 
 almost breathlessly of her discovery, and urged 
 him to take steps at once to have the would-be 
 assassin arrested and incarcerated as a precaution- 
 ary measure. 
 
 Zach laughed at the girl-'s agitation, but 
 assured her that the danger was now past. 
 ' 'Davis, '-^ said he, *'is a contemptible little coward, 
 mean enough to shoot me from ambush, and he is 
 no doubt hired by some other scoundrel to do 
 that; but now that he has been discovered in the 
 yery effort to do the dirty deed, he dare 
 
92 HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvLEGK 
 
 not go farther. Your coming, however, Katie 
 
 was indeed providential. Joe Davis is a sneak, 
 
 and, I believe for one silver dollar, would kill his 
 
 best friend. But, though very low in the scale of 
 
 humanity he is no fool, and I shall have no more 
 
 trouble from him.''' 
 
 The trembling girl, grateful for her providential 
 
 coming dropped her head on the shoulder of her 
 
 lover and sobbed like a child. Zach kissed her 
 
 tears away and lead her off toward the home of 
 
 their friend. 
 
 That evening when Zack left his sweetheart on 
 
 the steps at her father's door, he asked her to 
 
 go with him on Saturday afternoon to visit the 
 
 family of Jake Ilderton. 
 
 Said he, "I believe Mrs. Ilderton is a good 
 
 woman: her children are so neat and clean and 
 polite. No one but a good mother could send 
 from her home such children as those. As a teach- 
 er I want to know all I can about the homes of 
 my pupils.'' Katie was delighted to accompany 
 him, but would not let him leave her that night 
 
 without a promise to keep a sharp eye out for Joe 
 Davis. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.LKGE 93 
 
 Mrs. Ilderton was not expecting company Sat- 
 urday afternoon, but everything was neat and 
 tidy. The very chairs had been scoured that 
 morning, and every particle of the inexpensive 
 furniture, touched here and there by a gentle 
 woman^s hands, was inviting. 
 
 The large old-fashioned fire place was filled 
 with evergreens, and old Steve Ilderton's clock 
 stood in the corner and lazily ticked off the fleeting 
 moments. A picture of George Washington hung 
 over the front door, and one of Andrew Jackson 
 over the door leading to the kitchen. The milk 
 ''piggin" and the churn, faultlessly clean, stood 
 inverted on a shelf just outside the kitchen door. 
 The children, little Jake and Dorinda, were clean 
 and neatly attired, and vied with each other in 
 welcoming "de teacher and Miss Kate." Jake 
 Ilderton "happened in" a few minutes after the 
 arrival of the guests and joined heartily with his 
 wife and little ones in giving them welcome. 
 
 During the afternoon, Jake and Zack walked 
 out to look at Jake's "turnip patch." "Dat slipe 
 o' Ian' over thar," said the host, "I'm gwine ter 
 
94 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI.I^KGK 
 
 fix fur a brag piece o' wheat. I wants ter hev a 
 
 ten rail fence put 'round it, an' den haul out on it 
 
 sixty loads o' stable manure. Does ye reckin I 
 
 kin git ole Jack ter do dat wurk fur me?" he 
 
 asked. 
 
 *'No; Uncle Jack is suffering with rheumatism. 
 
 He can't do a lick o' work now. My school will 
 
 close next Friday. After that, I should be very 
 
 glad to do your work for you, Jake." 
 
 "Why, Zach, is ye jokin'? I knowed ye didn't 
 
 mind splittin' rails, but I 'lowed ye hed sholy got 
 
 above scatterin' manure," said Jake. 
 
 "No, indeed, not if there is an honest dollar in 
 
 in. I'm not afraid to do any kind of work that's 
 
 honorable. I need all the money I can get. I 
 
 must go back to college again before long. I'll 
 
 do that work for you and do it well and as cheap 
 
 as anybody. " 
 
 "Waal, sir, I'm jest powerful glad to git ye, 
 
 Zack; I kin git a han' fur fifty cents a day, but 
 
 I'll jest adzackly gi' ye seventy-five cents a day 
 
 and board ye. I'll jest do that very thing — whut 
 
 says ye." 
 
 "Just my dinner," said Zach. "I shall be 
 
HOW Zx^.CH CAMK TO COI.I.EGIC 95 
 
 obliged to take care of mother at night, so I'll get 
 breakfast and supper at home." 
 
 "All right," said Jake. '*Ef that suits ye, hit 
 suits me; but the wittles is here fur ye, Zach, an' 
 ye air more'n welcome." 
 
 "Then look for me soon Monday morning week 
 to begin work," said Zack, and the two returned 
 to the house. 
 
 After a pleasant afternoon, the visitors turned 
 their faces homeward. Jake excelled himself in 
 his efforts to show them that he appreciated their 
 visit. 
 
 Dorinda flung a kiss at Zack as he turned to 
 close the gate, and then said to her mother: 
 "Mamma, I do wush you could hear Mr. Zack 
 prayin' fur weans uver mornin' at school." 
 
 "Do he pray fur weans, honey?" 
 'Yes, ma'am, he do." 
 
 'I knowed he wus a good man, but I didn't 
 thunk he tuck time to pray fur weans." And 
 with tear-dimmed eyes the mother turned her face 
 toward the kitchen. 
 
 Mrs. Ilderton was a pale-faced little woman 
 
 ( c 
 
 ( (■ 
 
96 HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I,KGE 
 
 without culture, but with the bounding, throbbing 
 heart of a devoted mother; a heart that knew "its 
 own sorrow." A pleasant smile flitted across her 
 face at intervals, but underneath it and back of all 
 her efforts to appear cheerful, there was an inde- 
 finable something that told of unacknowledged 
 heartaches, of a sorrow that must be buried ip 
 one's own heart and burn itself out in a single life. 
 Zach was accustomed to study human nature 
 closely. During the afternoon he had diagnosed 
 this case successfully. 
 
 Mrs. Ilderton had, at the age of fifteen, "run- 
 off" from her parents and married Jake Ilderton, 
 a well-known, much-dreaded young moonshiner. 
 Jake had been kind to her — as kind as he knew 
 how to be. Their first four children were buried 
 near the base of the big boulder overlooking the 
 spring — the two little ones were left to Jake and 
 his Margaret. 
 
 "Mrs. Ilderton's face is a study," said Zack to 
 Katie as they walked homeward. ' 'She has buried 
 four children, I know, but that fact will not ac- 
 count for that look of hers — she has a living 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^I^KOK 9^ 
 
 trouble. She is a Christian, and devoted to her 
 children, and craves a better life for them. I be- 
 litive it is Jake's life that's drying up her heart 
 and scorching her very life. God pity her." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 School closed Friday, August 31. Monday 
 morning bright and early Zach stood at Jake 
 Ilderton^s gate. He carried with him a heavy 
 maul and wedge and a long, keen-bladed axe. He 
 was ready for business. 
 
 ''Good mornin', Zachie, good mornin'; we ain't 
 done eatin' jdt, kim in and tek a bite," was the 
 welcome he received. 
 
 "No, thank you, Jake — I've had breakfast." 
 "Waal, come in an' wet yo' goozle. " 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 "You won't kim in and tek a drap o' apple-jack 
 jes fur yo' stumick sake?" 
 
 "No, excuse me, Jake, I don't need it; my 
 stomach digests all I'll give it. Hard work is 
 better for me than apple-jack." 
 
 "Waal, dad-burn sich a critter.'' 
 
98 HOW ZACH CAME TO COJUlvKGK 
 
 The two men walked off toward the woods 
 where the rails were to be split. 
 
 "Now, Zach," said Jake, "here's the timber; 
 light een, and I'll step back and finish breakfast 
 and then go to m}^ work at the still." 
 
 "Yes, I wish you would just quit that work, 
 Jake, once and forever, and come along and help 
 me split these rails." 
 
 .A. 
 
 **Tut, man, don't ye know hits a heap easier ter 
 mek liquor an' sell it than hit is ter dig a livin' 
 outen these rocks?'' 
 
 "Easier, now, Jake, but you are damming up 
 the waters; you are piling up trouble for yourself 
 and for your children," said Zack. "Look out.'' 
 
 '*0, youbedurned, Zach, and stop ye preachin'; 
 I didn't hire ye ter preach — I hired ye ter split 
 rails." 
 
 Jake Ilderton was a shaggy, uncouth thing to 
 
 be called a man, but he loved his children with a 
 devotion that was beautiful, and Zach's allusion 
 
 to the curse he might bring upon them stung him to 
 
 the quick. He cared nothing for himself, but he 
 
 went tp his still that morning an unhappier man. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COtLEG^ §9 
 
 The timber was fiue and the weather was per- 
 fect. So Zach set for himself a task of 250 rails 
 
 a day. He was now within one year of his di- 
 ploma. His health was splendid, his mother was 
 alive, and with a few more dollars he would have 
 enough money to take his diploma and * 'owe no 
 man anything." These thoughts passed through 
 his mind, quickened his pulse-beat and the strong 
 mail drove his keen blade into the large timber 
 with such force as sent it almost to the eye of the 
 axe and brought great beads of sweat to his manly 
 forehead. Zack really enjoyed the work. He 
 was alone but in good company. In the last few 
 years he had learned enough of the mysteries of 
 nature to wonder how any one could ever feel 
 lonesome with a book of such marvelous beauty 
 spread wide open before him. Every stone had 
 for him a message now; while every bud or bird 
 was to him a printed page. 
 
 The midday meal with Jake's interesting family 
 was immensely enjoyed. The conversation took 
 rather a wide range for such a compan}^ Jake 
 was glad to go to the house when the dinner horn 
 
loo HOW ZACH CAME TO COI^LKGlB 
 
 blew, while the pale-faced mother, Dorinda and 
 little Jake, so fond of the teacher, found the din- 
 ner hour all too short. 
 
 Things went well till Friday. Dorinda com- 
 plained of "feelin' bad" and refused to eat. Zach 
 examined the child's pulse and found that she had 
 high temperature. He remarked that the child 
 had considerable fever and ought to have a doctor 
 to see her at once. 
 
 Jake sent off for Dr. Raw.sheur. 
 
 "He's jest a 'yearb doctor,' but he's all we hes 
 in these parts, an' uverbody sends fur 'im," said 
 the father. 
 
 Dr. Rawsheur came, said the child was ''toler- 
 able sick" and gave her a strong concoction made 
 of some roots taken from his mink-skin bag. 
 
 "The leetle gal '11 be better in a day er two," 
 he said as he went down the steps, "but I'll kem 
 back termorrow jest to see how she's gittin' along." 
 He came, and came again, changing his "yearb 
 tea" every time. 
 
 On the fourth day the fever was raging, the 
 child was very red and restless and begged for 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGK Id 
 
 Zack to rctn-iin by her side. Zach took the father 
 to one side and said: "Jake, ,Dorinda is a very 
 sick child. I don't know, but I'm afraid she has 
 scarlet fever." 
 
 "My God!" ejaculated the distressed father. 
 He remembered the terrible scourge just beyond 
 Bald mountain about six weeks before. 
 
 "Great God, Zach, whut shill I do?" 
 
 "Don't get excited, Jake, we must have a doc- 
 tor. Send for Dr. Jones. He lives fifteen miles 
 from here, but he has treated scarlet fever and 
 you must have him." 
 
 Jake lost no time in getting Jim, his hired man, 
 off after Dr. Jones. "Don't spar ole Fannie, 
 Jim," he said. "Fetch the Doctor, ef j^ou hev to 
 leave the ole m.ar dead een the road." 
 
 Jim loved Doriuda, as did every one who knew 
 the yellow-haired child of eight summers. He 
 rode hard and fast over the mountain, Fan, the 
 sinewy, little chestnut-sorrel, responding without 
 a protest to every touch of his heav}^ heel. But 
 the doctor was away from home, and Jim rode 
 fnr into the night before he found him. 
 
I02 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLLEGE 
 
 At 8 o'clock the next morning Dr. Jones dis- 
 mounted at the gate of the notorious Horse Foot 
 moonshiner. 
 
 Jake and Zach and the faithful mother had sat 
 through the long weary hours of the night watch- 
 ing by the side of the little sufferer. Just before 
 day there was slight evidence of delirium. Zach 
 noticed the first symptom — he was watching for 
 it; but he said nothing of it, hoping that the par- 
 ents might not observe it. The child clasped her 
 hands and uttered a prayer that she had heard 
 her teacher make at school, and then clutched at 
 some imaginary object. 
 
 Poor Jake! he trembled now; and said in a half 
 sobbing way, "Zachie, fur God's sake, ain't she 
 teched een her mind?" 
 
 Before the sympathetic teacher could speak, the 
 child turned her eyes toward the door and said in 
 a sweet, childish, pleading voice, "Come in, he 
 won't hurt ye." And tlien as if disappointed, 
 she turned her eyes on Jake, and said, "Pappy, 
 them's angels, but they won't come in — they air 
 ^keerdt o' you." 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI^I^EGK IO3 
 
 Sweet, patient and gentle Margaret Ilderton 
 buried her face in her hands, large tears ran down 
 the cheeks of the faithful teacher and poor Jake 
 sobbed piteously. 
 
 "We'll not give her up yet, Jake," said Zach, 
 applying another cold cloth to her parched brow. 
 "We'll take her to the Great Physician," pointing 
 upward, "and ask Him to help Dr. Jones when he 
 comes." 
 
 Dr. Jones stepped into the room. With just a 
 nod at the three anxious watchers, he walked to 
 the side of the bed, and looking down into the 
 face of the child, said slowly but emphatically, 
 "s-c-a-r-1-e-t f-e-v-e-r. " 
 
 The intelligent physician who had treated so 
 many cases of scarlet fever, knew what to do and 
 went to work without loss of time. 
 
 The distressed father watched his every move- 
 ment. After a while he said, "Doctor, kin 3^e 
 save the leetle gal?" 
 
 "God Almighty knows, my friend," was the 
 reply. "I'll do the best I can, but I tell you now, 
 she's a desperately ill child." 
 
I04 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COLIvEGK 
 
 That was poor consolation to poor, ignorant 
 
 Jake Ilderton. His heart sank within him; he 
 ran out into the yard and wept bitter tears. "My 
 God," he said, "ef I knowed how to pray, I'd 
 pray; but I nuver prayed, I can't pray." Then 
 looking up, he said, "J^sus, spar my leetle gal." 
 Miserable, O, how miserable was poor Jake! He 
 couldn't stay out of the house, and he couldn't 
 stay in. His very heart strings were being torn 
 as never before. 
 
 The faithful physician watched patiently by the 
 side of the little child until 3 o'clock in the after- 
 noon. Then giving explicit directions to Zach 
 and the mother, he remounted his tired horse and 
 rode back across the mountains. He promised to 
 be back before 10 o'clock tomorrow if he could, 
 but charged them to watch closely, for he believed 
 the crisis would be reached before another sun 
 would rise. 
 
 At 8 o'clock in the evening, the child was quiet 
 and resting. A neighbor, a sensible woman had 
 come in to help watch through the night. To her 
 and the mother, Zach repeated the directions of 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I.EGK 105 
 
 the physician and told them he would run over to 
 
 see how his mother was getting on; he promised 
 
 to be back in an hour. 
 
 A hundred yards from the house Zach repeated 
 
 the words: "And a little child shall lead them." 
 He looked back and saw poor, wald Jake standing 
 in the door, looking up at the stars and wringing 
 his hands. Then turning his owm eyes tow^ard the 
 heavens where the stars were twinkling, the big- 
 hearted teacher said: "Father, spare the dear 
 child if it please Thee, but whether she live or 
 die, save Jake Ilderton, save Jake Ilderton!'' 
 
 Jake sat down by the litttle one's bed, and wnth 
 the great rough hand of a lovino^, suffering father, 
 he touched as gently as he could the hand of the 
 child he loved better than his own life. The little 
 sufferer opened her e3''es f or a second, and then, in 
 a clear, distinct voice uttered two words, "blood, 
 
 whiskey. ' ' 
 
 Jake Ilderton knew^ nothing for several minutes. 
 
 When he regained consciousness, he ran out into 
 the yard, threw himself on his knees, and lifting 
 his eyes toward the hilis, cried out in all the an- 
 guish of his soul: 
 
I06 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COIvLKGK 
 
 <(i 
 
 'O, God, hev it kim ter this! hev it kim ter 
 
 this? Is ye tekiu' the child fur my doiti's? O, 
 
 lyordy, spar 1113^ chile and tek me. I ain't no 
 'count, tek me. I bin a mighty mean man, but 
 I'm might}' sorry fur it. Please, Jesus, jes spar 
 the leetle gal. I been a mean man. I kilt four 
 men. I kilt Josh Lindsay, but I wus young then 
 an' didn't know no better. I kilt Cy Bell. He 
 cussed me an' I kilt 'im. Lordy, I'm mighty 
 sorry. Then I kilt Ben Fowler. He ruirit my 
 sister, Lord, an' hed to kill 'im, I jes had to kill 
 'im. Then I kilt the revenue. He kilt my 
 daddy, an' I jes kilt him. I'm mighty sorry, 
 Lord, but I can't fetch 'em back ter life. O, Lordy, 
 spar the leetle gal an' I'll nuver kill another man 
 ez long ez I live. Spar my chile, O. Lord, an' I'll 
 jine the church, I'll quit cussin'.'' 
 
 Poor, helpless Jake! the light of his home w^as 
 about to be ex^tinguished, and he was in the dark- 
 ness of despair. Staggering to the fence he cried 
 out once again, **0, Jesus, Marster, spar de leetle 
 gal! jes spar de leetle gal an' I'll sarve ye right. 
 Spar my leetle Dorinda, Lord, an' I'll nuver mek 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COLLEGE 107 
 
 another drap o' apple-jack, an' 111 lick enny man 
 dat tries ter mek it in Horse Foot Cove. O, Jesus, 
 spar Dorinda an' I'll buss de haid outten uver 
 bar'l o' apple-jack I've got, Lordy, sp — " 
 
 Jake leaped to his feet and ran into the house. 
 His countenance was all aglow. "Dorinda will 
 get well,"' he cried, "Dorinda will git well; sumpin' 
 told me so!*' He was about to take Dorinda in 
 his arms, but was prevented b}' the faithful wife, 
 who pleaded with him to keep quiet and not wake 
 the child now resting. Zach returned after awhile 
 and found Jake in the 3^ard leaping for very joy 
 and praising God for his promise. 
 
 The crisis was passed. Dr. Jones arrived at 9 
 next morning, and as soon as he glanced at the 
 child, said, "Dorinda is better this morning.'' 
 
 Jake was standing at the Doctor's back when 
 he heard the words, "Dorinda is better," he 
 dropped on his knees and cried out: "Thank God! 
 I telled ye .so! I telled ye so!" Then turning, 
 with one bound cleared the steps and ran rapidly 
 toward the still. 
 
 Jim, his assistant, was there at work. ''Roll 
 
 \ 
 
Io8 HOW ZACH CAMK TO COI.I.EGK 
 
 uver bar'l o' apple-jack out here, Jim,'' Jake 
 shouted, "roll 'em out an' let me send 'em to hell 
 whar they belong." 
 
 Jim protested against such great waste. 
 
 "Shet 3^0' mouth," cried Jake. "I promised the 
 Lord, and ivery drap shall go."' 
 
 Seizing an axe he began bursting in barrel 
 heads, and ripe old apple-jack commenced rolling 
 in a great stream down the mountain side. "Go, 
 ye be bit o' hell-fire! Go back to the yearth fum 
 wbenst ye kin!" he shouted. "I'll nuver mek 
 another drap o' ye, an' I kin lick enny man whut 
 tries ter mek ye een Horse Foot." 
 
 Jake Ilderton had entered into a solemn covenant 
 with Margaret's God. He joined the church, told 
 his experience reverentl}^ and all the cove saw that 
 the notorious moonshiner was another man. The 
 whole congregation listened in profound silence, 
 man}'- of them in tears, to Jake's experience. 
 Wiping his moist eyes on his coat sleeve, he 
 closed with these words: 
 
 "Friends, I hev been a might}^ mean man; but 
 I mean to serve God the balance 'o my days. I 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I.BGE 109 
 
 iiaint nolarnin',yeknow, an'can't talk fur 'im much 
 
 an' I can't sing, but, thank God, I kin fight tur 
 
 'im, an' hit will jest gi' me pleggure to do it. 
 
 I gin ye warnin' now, friends, I promised the 
 
 Lord I would lick enny man what tries to mek 
 
 liquor in Horse Foot, an' I'll do it. He spar'd 
 
 my leetle Dorinda an' furgive my sins an' now 
 
 I'm His'n to the eend uv life." 
 
 Strong men wept that day, and more than one 
 
 woman shouted aloud the praise of Almightj^ God. 
 
 Margaret Ilderton's pale face was now radi- 
 
 ent. A flood of light had come into her darkened 
 
 soul, and for her, life had a purer, sweeter, nobler 
 
 meaning. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Having mended shoes for his neighbors, having 
 dug ditches, split rails, scattered manure — having 
 done anything to earn an honest penny, Zach re- 
 entered college now for the last time, set his face 
 toward the coveted goal and resolutely fought his 
 way through difficulties until he reached the end 
 of his senior year. 
 
 The much dreaded final examination is passed, 
 
no iiOW ZACH CAMK TO COmKGK 
 
 and the mountaiueer feels that he has fought a 
 
 good fight. And he has. He has made a good 
 
 record as a student, he has maintained his integ_ 
 
 rity, he has honestly won his diploma, and he can 
 
 look the world in the face and say of a truth: "I 
 
 owe no man anything. ' ' 
 
 It is commencement day again. Eight long 
 
 years have passed since the mountaineer first 
 
 entered that auditorium. Then, he sat in a pew, 
 
 an obscure backwoodsman; today he sits on the 
 
 rostrum, the most observed, because he is the 
 
 largest and handsomest man of the class — he has 
 
 won his place by persistent, uncompromising 
 
 blows. 
 
 The speakers were arranged in alphabetical 
 
 order, the mountaineer's name beginning w^ith W., 
 
 appearing last on the program, and the subject of 
 
 his address, "Labor Omnia Vincet." 
 
 The other speeches delivered, the venerable 
 
 president of the college briefly related the incident 
 
 of a young mountaineer's accidental attendance 
 
 upon the commencement exercises in that hall 
 
 eight years before, and of his resolve before he 
 
 left the auditorium to speak on that platform some 
 
HOW ZACH CAMK TO COIvLEGK Hi 
 
 day himself. Then he alhided to the young man's 
 fight with poverty, his manly independence, his 
 unflinching courage, his high sense of honor, his 
 devotion to duty, and said: "Ladies and gentle- 
 men, it gives me real pleasure to introduce as the 
 next speaker that same mountaineer, Mr. Zacha- 
 riah Timoth}^ Whetstone, of North Carolina." 
 
 There had never occurred in that hall at any 
 other time such a demonstration of popular feel- 
 ing. The kind but truthful words just spoken by 
 the president, the mountaineers great popularity 
 among the students and in the city, his magnifi- 
 dent physique and striking personality — all these 
 
 set the audience wild. 
 
 The distinguished looking gentleman about 
 
 whom so many questions had been asked b}^ 
 strangers present, advanced to the front of the 
 stage, but the applause w^as so great and continued 
 so long, he could not begin his address. He po- 
 litely bowed his appreciation, but that only in- 
 creased the demonstration. The college boys in 
 the galleries thundered their applause as only boys 
 
 can do, enthusiastic ladies wore their delecate fans 
 to frazzles on the back of seats and gray-bearded 
 
it2 HOW ZACH CAME TO COIvLEGE 
 
 men with moistened eyes clapped their hands in 
 hearty approval; nor did this cease until the pres- 
 ident raised his hand in appeal to the audience. 
 The mountaineer became a little nervous, his 
 muscles tv/iched slightly, but his accustomed 
 smile played all the while over his handsome face. 
 He uttered the first sentence in clear, distinct 
 tones that penetrated the remotest corner of the 
 spacious auditorium, and again the applause was 
 renewed and continued several seconds. 
 
 There was one woman near the rostrum who 
 did not join in the applause. While others around 
 her applauded, she buried her face in her hands 
 and wept; wept not tears of grief or sorrow, but 
 sweet, precious, joyous tears — the man thus hon- 
 ored was her baby boy. 
 
 The exercises concluded, the president of the 
 
 college and many distinguished visitors hastened 
 
 to congratulate the happy mother of the hero of 
 
 the occasion. The proud mother was too full to 
 
 express her thanks, but looked them through her 
 
 smiles and tears, and in her heart, thanked God 
 
 for him, who to her, was the greatest man on 
 earth. 
 
HOW ZACH CAME TO COI.I.KGE 1 1 3 
 
 The mountaineer, as soon as be could free him- 
 self from the hands of his admiring classmates and 
 fellow-students, made his way to his mother and 
 imprinting upon her happy-- face an affectionate 
 kiss, handed her his diploma, saying: "Here, 
 mother, take this; it is yours, not mine." She 
 clutched the parchment and pressed it to her heart. 
 She knew she could never read it for it was writ- 
 ten in Latin, but she also knew that it was the 
 testimonial of the greatest triumph of her son. 
 Then, mother and son, arm in arm, walked out of 
 the hall, the embodiment of unalloyed, immeas- 
 urable happiness. 
 
 Has the reader become sufficiently interested to 
 wonder what became of the subject of this sketch? 
 You shall know. He returned to his mountain 
 home, and as soon as he was able, erected on his own 
 land a neat, commodious school building in which, 
 during all these years, he has conducted a suc- 
 cessful, prosperous high school. He has managed 
 his mother's little farm well, has bought lands ad- 
 joining it, and is pastor of three Baptist churches 
 nestled amons: the hills he loves so well. The 
 
114 HOW ZACH CAME) TO COLIvBGK 
 
 Rev. Zachariah Timothy Whetstone is the best 
 
 beloved and most influential citizen in all that 
 
 mountain region, and his hard common-sense, 
 
 successful school an(^fearless preaching have done 
 
 more than all tne laws and guns of Uncle Sam to 
 
 stop illicit distilling in that highly favored section 
 
 of North Carolina. 
 
 Old Jack was faithful to the end of his daj'S 
 
 and now sleeps in a well-kept grave near the Big 
 
 Gum Spring. Towser and Zeno long ago ceased 
 
 to challenge the raccoon and the squirrel. Each 
 
 had a decent burial; the faithful master saying: 
 
 "The good old dogs alwaj^s did the best they could 
 
 — what living thing could do more?" 
 
 Did Zach marry Katie? She is the mistress of 
 
 his home, the guiding star of his life, and both are 
 
 happy in the lives of their two children, little 
 
 Katie, the duplicate of her mother, and young 
 Zach, ''a chip off the old block.'' 
 
 The aged mother still lives to bless the home of 
 her stalwart son, and every Sunday hears the 
 gospel preached by him into whose baby ears she 
 first whispered the name of Jesus. 
 
 THE END. 
 
y 
 
HECKMAN 
 
 BINDERY INC. 
 
 ^ 
 
 JAN 90 
 
 N. MANCHESTER, 
 INDIANA 46962