U8RARY 
 
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 NICK HAEDY AT COLLEGE; 
 
 OB, TH K 
 
 WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 PARK LUDLOW, A.M. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "ONOE IN FUN, TWICE IN EARNEST, 1 ' "THB P.ED 
 SHANTY BOYS," ETC. 
 
 'Revolt Is recreant when pursuit is brave: 
 Never to faint doth purchase what we cAve." 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 HENRY A. SUMNER & COMPANY. 
 
 1882.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 188O. 
 HENRY A SUMMER AND COMPANY. 
 
 UJrr, GAUKIT* & I.OTD, PmimtM 
 A. J. Cox A Co., Bixuuu.
 
 TO 
 
 CHARLES TAYLOR CATLIN, 
 
 MY CLASSMATE 
 AND MOST INTIMATE COLLEGE FRIEND, 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 ..." the reverend halls 
 Where once of old we wore the gown,'L 
 
 AMD OF THE THOUSAND LONG PAST BUT STILL DEARLY 
 
 CHERISHED JOYS OF OUR STUDENT LIFE 
 
 TOGETHER, 
 
 I Brticate tijis Utttle Botnance, 
 
 WHOSE SCENES AND CHARACTERS WILL RECALL TO HIM, 
 
 AS TO ME, THE OTHER FRIENDS WHO 
 
 MADE US GLAD. 
 
 P. L., A. M.
 
 PBEFACE. 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES mav idealize the homeliest 
 common thing, and a mere utensil with a history 
 is no longer a dumb piece of service, but a 
 token. Let this apologize for the wooden whim 
 which names my college-tale. The concern of 
 my hero in the mystery of the broken spoon is 
 less a concern of inheritance than of a coinci- 
 dence of fortunes ; for both the young heir and 
 his old heirloom are instruments of restoration. 
 The latter brings ancestral values, the former 
 ancestral virtues back to light. 
 
 If, in the events and experiences here told, 
 my readers trace an example of a genial and 
 helpful soul who in his own rising raises others, 
 who lives to gather and not to scatter friends,
 
 PBEFACB. 
 
 who gives as much and as gladly as he receives, 
 and who makes goodness rather than greatness 
 the load-star of his pursuit, perhaps they will 
 not blame the simple device by which I have 
 tried to weave some threads of romance through 
 the sequel-story of Nicholas Hardy's student 
 career. 
 
 P. L., A. M.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 IN WHICH COOLNESS WINS, ...... 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 m WHICH NICK is EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED, 35 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED, 54 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE, ........ 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 raiCH ENDS IN SMOKE, 95 
 
 7
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTURE, . . .115 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A 8PLUBGE, AND A LAW-CASE, .... 136 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 m WHICH NICK u ASSISTS " AT A KETTLE- 
 DRUM, 161 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL, 185 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK HAS LONGINGS, .... 210 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES, 240 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES, 267
 
 CONTENTS. 9 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAU- 
 
 REATI," 294 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE, AND SOME STEANGE 
 
 DEVELOPMENTS, 316 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS, . 340 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN SIGHT OF THE LAST MILE-STONE, . . . 368 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE BROKEN SPOON IS FINALLY 
 
 MENDED, 389
 
 THE WOODEN SPOON; 
 
 OR, 
 NICK HARDY IN COLLEGE. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 IN WHICH COOLNESS WINS. 
 
 His cares must still be doable to his joys 
 
 In any dignity ; where, if he err, 
 
 He finds no pardon; and for doing well, 
 
 At most small praise, and that wrung out by force. 
 
 BEN JONSON. 
 
 -c/'Ou'vE lied to me, sir! " cried the ex- 
 cited Mr. Nugent, pounding the table 
 with the soft side of his fist. 
 
 u I do not recognize your right, sir, nor 
 the right of any other man, to talk to me 
 in that way," said young Mr. Hardy. 
 
 11
 
 12 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " It is my right, as a trustee of this insti- 
 tution, to call yon to an account, sir. Yon 
 told me last summer that my boy Pomeroy 
 was one of your best scholars, and gave 
 you no trouble," persisted Mr. Nugent, 
 angrily. 
 
 " Well, sir, do you claim that I told a 
 falsehood when I said that about your boy?" 
 quoth Hardy, looking the man coolly in the 
 eye. 
 
 "I want to know what business you have 
 to send me these complaints about him 
 now!" cried Mr. Nugent, growing furious. 
 
 " I send them because it becomes my 
 duty to do so, sir," said Hardy. 
 
 "Then why didn't you let me know be- 
 fore?" demanded Mr. Nugent. 
 
 "I informed you as soon as I thought 
 occasion required it. Last year I said that 
 Pomeroy was a good boy, and it was true ;
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 13 
 
 now I say that he is a bad boy, and this 
 is true too," replied Hardy. 
 
 " It is not. You don't make me believe 
 there's all this difference. The difference 
 is in yourself," said Mr. Nugent. 
 
 " Perhaps it is. But, begging your pardon, 
 you're the only man who thinks so. This 
 morning I said it was a fine day, and now 
 I say it rains. The difference is all in me, 
 perhaps," said Hardy. 
 
 " I know what I'm talking about, sir. 
 You've taken a dislike to my boy, and 
 you'll find it a dear quarrel, Mr. Nicholas 
 Hardy," quoth Mr. Nugent. 
 
 " I expect that a person who is ungentle- 
 manly enough to accuse me of lying will be 
 foolish enough to try to scare me with 
 threats," said Hardy. 
 
 " You forget who you're speaking to, sir,* 
 cried Mr. Nugent. 
 
 "I do not forget who I am" retorted
 
 14 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Hardy, " and I respect myself too much to 
 swerve from my duty as master of a school, 
 out of deference to any one's anger or unrea- 
 sonableness. I know what the ordinary rules 
 
 
 of school discipline are, and have tried to 
 
 enforce them. I have taken pains to ac- 
 quaint myself with the laws of the state 
 and the laws of the town in regard to tru- 
 ants. The recent violation of these rules 
 and laws by your son I have reported to 
 you duly and correctly. You have my tes- 
 timony to what the boy was, and to what 
 he is. What has caused the change in him 
 I do not know, and it is no part of my duty 
 to find out. I have stated the facts, and 
 only the facts, and you are the first per- 
 son, sir, who has ever insulted me by ques- 
 tioning my truthfulness." 
 
 "I shall take my boy away from your 
 tuition at once, sir. And I warn you that 
 your days as teacher in this place are num
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 15 
 
 bered, Mr, Nicholas Hardy," quoth Mr. Nu- 
 gent, shaking his finger at the object of his 
 wrath, and turning on his heel. 
 
 " In one month's time I shall cease to be 
 the principal of this school, according to 
 agreement, and not from any agency of 
 yours, Mr. Nugent," said Nicholas Hardy. 
 But the irate trustee pretended not to hear 
 him, and marched straight out of the room, 
 slamming the door behind him. 
 
 The above rather uncomfortable interview 
 took place in the upper hall of the High- 
 town Grammar School, one day shortly after 
 the scholars had been dismissed. It was 
 our hero's first really harsh experience in all 
 his ten or eleven months' tutorship ; and, as 
 he was wont to say afterwards, it "jounced " 
 him considerably after his " long smooth 
 ride."* But he had been used to jounces, 
 and expected to get a good many more if
 
 16 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he lived. He had taught the Hightown 
 school with uninterrupted success, and main- 
 tained the pleasantest relations with all the 
 members of the board, who employed him, 
 as well as with the parents of his scholars. 
 Of course he had found many things, greater 
 or less, to try his patience, but nothing like 
 this sudden and ferocious attack by Mr. 
 Nugent. That he kept his temper BO well 
 under it was a wonder to himself, and a just 
 cause for thankfulness, certainly. 
 
 Pomeroy Nugent, or "Pum," as the boys 
 always shortened it, was a smart, intelligent 
 youth, quick to learn, and uncommonly fluent 
 in his recitations, qualities which invari- 
 ably gratify and attract a teacher ; and 
 Hardy, on first acquaintance, if he could 
 ever have allowed himself at all to have 
 " favorites " among his pupils, would have 
 selected "Pum" as one of them. 
 
 Of late, however, the boy had grown
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 17 
 
 unsteady, and showed a propensity to " hook 
 Jack." This was of more consequence to 
 his teacher, and to the school, from the fact 
 that his influence and example were enticing 
 other boys away from their studies. The 
 recent possession of a new gun, and the 
 general effect of too great parental indul- 
 gence at home, no doubt chiefly accounted 
 for Pomeroy's misconduct. But if he had 
 been honest enough to own his loss of in- 
 terest in his books, and quit school entirely 
 instead of injuring others by his own neglect, 
 this would have ended the matter. The 
 young preceptor remonstrated kindly with 
 him, but with no result save to obtain prom- 
 ises which were never kept. When he 
 
 ' 
 
 chided him, the youngster became impatient 
 and even impertinent. Inquiries were sent 
 to his parents, but apparently no notice waa 
 taken of them. Finally, a warning that the 
 boy's case must be referred to the truant- 
 2
 
 18 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 officer, unless his habits were corrected, 
 roused the father, and brought him down 
 to the schoolhouae in great wrath, as we 
 have seen. 
 
 Nicholas was right when he said that Mr. 
 Nugent was the only man who could not 
 see -that Pomeroy had changed for the 
 worse, and who blamed him for thinking 
 BO. The facts were well known in all the 
 neighborhood, and there was scarcely a per- 
 son who did not censure the truant's course, 
 and regret that his father indulged him in 
 it. The preceptor was sure of his ground. 
 He would have dealt the same with another 
 boy for the same offence, and he knew no 
 reason why he should make an exception in 
 favor of a trustee's son. 
 
 The next morning, when Nicholas went to 
 the schoolhouse at the usual hour, he could 
 not get in. Inadvertently he had left his
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 19 
 
 own key in the door the previous evening. 
 Some madcaps had secured it, without the 
 janitor's knowledge, and in . a spirit of mis- 
 chief " locked the master out." It was pro- 
 voking to Nicholas that at this particular 
 time his own forgetfulness should have laid 
 the temptation for such a prank; for just 
 now (considering what occurred yesterday) 
 the affair had an ugly look. 
 
 " The hand of Pum Nugent is in this 
 thing," Nicholas thought to himself. But 
 he did not stop to reason long. Two or 
 three boys and half a dozen girls stood at 
 the head of the stairs and about the door, 
 waiting and wondering. " There's some one 
 in there," they said. That was evident. 
 The key was in the key-hole on the inside. 
 
 " Open this door," said Nicholas in a voice 
 of authority. No answer. " Open this door ! " 
 There was a slight movement within, he 
 thought. He put his ear quickly down to
 
 20 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the key-hole and caught some words, in a 
 feigned tone. " Treat first," that was 
 what it sounded like. Aha ! so the rogues 
 were up to a bit of rebellion. Nicholas 
 knew what he would do. The janitor was 
 away. He generally finished his work and 
 left the building about the time the master 
 came in. But Nicholas had duplicates of all 
 his keys. The only one not in his pocket 
 was the one inside the schoolroom door. 
 He told the. scholars who stood near him 
 to "run down and hunt up the janitor," 
 naming several places where they might 
 look for him. The moment they disappeared 
 down the stairs he stepped quietly to a 
 small door at the end of the passage, un- 
 locked it, and let himself into the attic. 
 
 Meantime the young rogues in the school- 
 room, most of whom already began to feel 
 frightened at their own audacious joke, were 
 destined to a greater fright. All at once
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 21 
 
 while they stood huddled together, discuss- 
 ing the situation in whispers, and arguing 
 with their ringleader whether to open the 
 door or scramble out of the back windows, 
 they heard a bit of a noise overhead, and 
 down into their very midst dropped the pre- 
 ceptor, through the scuttle-hole ! 
 
 It was like a lion leaping among a parcel of 
 sheep. And certainly it would be impossible 
 to picture the " sheepish " consternation on 
 the faces of those boys. , Instinctively they 
 scudded to their seats, and sat there trem- 
 bling. There were only four of them, be- 
 sides Puna Nugent ; for he was the king 
 scamp in the mischief, just as Nicholas had 
 supposed. No one else in the school had 
 any motive to contrive so saucy a caper as 
 locking the door against him. But they 
 were all "in the same boat" now; and 
 never a more scared and sorry set of cul- 
 prits shivered in the presence of power.
 
 22 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 The master had suddenly outflanked them, 
 and now, to be sure, there would be sum- 
 mary vengeance. 
 
 But the master seemed to be in no hurry 
 for vengeance. He uttered not a word till 
 he had hung up his hat, opened his desk, 
 taken out his books, and coolly seated him- 
 self in his chair. Then he said in a calm 
 tone, a Pomeroy, unlock the door." 
 
 Pomeroy obeyed very promptly indeed; 
 and Nicholas fully expected that he would 
 dodge out, and be seen no more ; but in 
 this he was mistaken. 
 
 The boys could not think what to make 
 of the preceptor's strange quietness. The 
 wonder and vague dread provoked by it 
 quite filled up the measure of their confu- 
 sion. If he had collared them as soon as he 
 appeared among them, and laid about vigor- 
 ously with ruler or rod, they would have 
 taken the punishment with a good grace.
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 23 
 
 But his silence was something more terri- 
 ble. Beyond a glance or two, and the single 
 order to Pomeroy, he had hardly seemed to 
 notice them. They might have guessed that 
 in that "glance or two" he was conning 
 the list of their names, and measuring to 
 himself each one's share in the morning's 
 mischief John Grannis, Abel Bunco, New- 
 ton Taylor, Fred Hawkins, with ringleader 
 Pum, of course, at the head. They could 
 not have guessed that every other minute 
 he was trying to suppress a smile. He knew 
 exactly how the boys felt, and there was 
 something so droll in the fix he had brought 
 them to, and in the hang-dog look they wore, 
 that he had to keep his eyes off them to 
 avoid laughing. 
 
 Presently he looked at his watch, and 
 said, "John Grannis, ring the bell." 
 
 By this time most of the pupils had ar- 
 rived, and found out what had happened;
 
 24 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and the flushed and curious faces turned on 
 the preceptor, and the lively chatter in the 
 entry below, told how the story of the lock- 
 out, and the capture of the five boys, had 
 excited them all. 
 
 Mr. Nicholas Hardy was the only calm 
 person in the room. He opened the school 
 and went on with it in the usual way. But 
 few of the scholars could fasten their minds 
 on their lessons long at a time. Every one 
 was wondering what the master meant to 
 do. They knew (some of them to their cost) 
 how prompt and firm he had always been 
 in maintaining discipline, and how quickly 
 and effectually he had always dealt with 
 every smallest defiance of his authority. 
 Surely there was a rod in pickle for those 
 five offenders who locked the door. As for 
 the five boys themselves, they suffered accu- 
 mulating agonies. Four of them, at least, 
 were completely crushed with shame, chagrin,
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 25 
 
 and blue forebodings. That state of feeling 
 was Nicholas' advantage, and he intended to 
 keep it. That was what " the master meant 
 to do." He had made up his mind how the 
 matter stood with those four, and what course 
 of treatment with all would have the best 
 effect on the fifth. 
 
 During the forenoon a small piece of white 
 paper slid very secretly from hand to hand, 
 and finally found its way to the preceptor's 
 desk. There were these few lines of writ- 
 ing on it: 
 
 " MB. HARDY : We are sorry we did what 
 we did this morning. Pomeroy said let's 
 lock the master out, and we said we would 
 for a joke. It was a wrong thing, and we 
 hope you will excuse us. 
 
 JOHN GEANNIS. NEWTON TAYLOR. 
 ABEL BUNCE. FRED HAWKINS." 
 
 , 
 It was no surprise to Nicholas to receive 
 
 this note. But it was a surprise to him
 
 26 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 that Pomeroy Nugent (notwithstanding what 
 his father had said) was in his place at 
 school, not only in the forenoon but all the 
 afternoon, and, though evidently very ill at 
 ease, behaved and recited his lessons most 
 unexceptionably. Before the day ended he 
 had partly surmised the true reason ; and 
 before he left the schoolhouse his surmises 
 were turned to certainty. When the school 
 was closed he signified to Pomeroy and the 
 other four boys that they would remain after 
 the rest of the pupils went away. After 
 seeing that all inquisitive ears were out of 
 the building, he was about to sit down with 
 his five young offenders for a good talk, 
 when a heavy tread up the stairs and a 
 knock on the door announced the advent of 
 Dr. Pliny Norcross, another member of the 
 board of trustees. Bidding the boys retire 
 into the small recitation-room, he politely 
 welcomed the gentleman, and seated him in
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 27 
 
 his chair. Then telling him he would bo 
 with him in a moment, he immediately re- 
 joined his pupils. 
 
 Addressing first the four who sent him 
 the note, he said, " These boys have apolo- 
 gized to me for the part they took in the 
 affair of this morning. They will never hear 
 more of it &om me if they never repeat 
 such an absurd and lawless piece of mis- 
 chief. You may go." 
 
 "Well, Pomeroy," he resumed pleasantly, 
 after they had left the room, " you are going 
 to attend school every day now are you 
 not? going to study with us right along, 
 to the end without any more offs or 
 breaks? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Pomeroy ; and for some 
 reason, though still a little to his surprise, 
 Nicholas believed the boy. 
 
 "And now, my lad," he continued, laying 
 his hand on his shoulder, " will you tell me
 
 28 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 what you were thinking about when you 
 locked that door?" 
 
 Pomeroy hung his head and twisted one 
 of his jacket-buttons. " I wasn't thinking 
 much of anything; I s'pose 'twas because 
 I was kind of mad." 
 
 "Are you mad now?" 
 
 " No, sir," replied Pomeroy, with consid 
 erable feeling. 
 
 u Honestly, didn't that fun cost more than 
 it came to?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " And you don't put your hand to such 
 a scrape again ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Very well, then," said Nicholas, smiling ; 
 u if I see you here constantly till term closes, 
 I shall know you are true and square again. 
 I have been hunting for the man in you, 
 and I think I'll find him. Good-by till to- 
 morrow."
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 29 
 
 And the boy tripped out as if he had left 
 
 a big load behind him. 
 
 Dr. Pliny Norcross was a physician retired 
 from a prosperous practice, a man of books 
 and many curious researches eccentric, 
 moreover, and taciturn, and never caring a 
 fig for the goings-on of the world, unless 
 something extraordinary called him out. 
 Something extraordinary HAD called him out. / 
 
 When Nicholas got through with his boys, 
 and came back from the recitation-room, the 
 doctor greeted him with an explosion of 
 laughter. He laughed so loud and so long 
 that the young preceptor began to feel a 
 little embarrassed, not quite knowing how to 
 take it. 
 
 "Well, well, friend Hardy," quoth the 
 merry doctor at last. " Ha, ha, ha 1 a man 
 with Seth Nugent and Pum Nugent on his 
 hands both at once has got enough ha, ha, 
 hal So you received notice last night that
 
 30 TEE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 your -days were numbered, and this morning 
 had the key turned on you 1 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 that's too good." 
 
 And then Nicholas managed to learn, be- 
 tween the gusts of laughter, how Mr. Nu- 
 gent's interview with him had leaked out 
 (thanks to the janitor), and the other trus- 
 tees had put their heads together about it, 
 and had been to see the angry man, and 
 softened him down, till he was ashamed and 
 tf drew in his horns," and admitted that tho 
 master was right, and undertook to look after 
 his eon; and how the story of the master's 
 shrewd trapping of the boys that morning, 
 and of his pluck and coolness, was in every- 
 body's mouth, and people everywhere were 
 calling him a hero, and a " trump," and " a 
 perfect brick," and all tho other good-fellow 
 things. " And I tell you what, Hardy," 
 concluded the doctor, with a vehement rap 
 on the desk, "you have yourself to thank
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 31 
 
 for it. We had set you right after Nugent 
 came down on you so, and if you'd been 
 imprudent to-day, when the boys provoked 
 you, you'd have spoiled it all!" 
 
 The doctor was thoroughly interested, 
 excited, in fact, and it had taken him a 
 good while to get through talking and laugh- 
 ing about the events or" the last twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 Walking home with Nicholas, he fell back 
 on his old themes. " By the way," he said, 
 " did you know that the original and correct 
 spelling of your name was Hardee with a 
 double E?" 
 
 Nicholas had never happened to know that. 
 He supposed it was because he had given 
 more time to the Hardy spirit than to the 
 Hardy letters. 
 
 "Well, well," quoth the doctor bluntly, 
 but shaking his sides a little; "the name 
 is a good one, and has been borne by better
 
 32 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 men than you or me which is saying a 
 great deal. You are going to college, but 
 you'll never be a ' senior wrangler,' for you 
 were not born with a gold spoon in your 
 mouth; nor were any of your ancestors, I 
 think, for I know the line, though it isn't 
 in Burke's British Peerage. As they say in 
 England," (the doctor rambled on,) " ' a Senior 
 Wrangler is born with a gold spoon in his 
 mouth, a Senior Optimo with a silver spoon, 
 and a Junior Optime with a wooden spoon,' 
 which may be the most valuable, after 
 all; at any rate, there was a wooden spoon 
 in your family once that was worth more 
 than five hundred gold spoons. I've heard 
 my grandfather tell the story of Captain Sol- 
 omon Hardee, who used to sail a merchant- 
 man to the East Indies in the time of Queen 
 Anne, and who fell in with pirates and lost 
 all he had except a fine diamond that he hid 
 in his ear, and how, when he was alone
 
 COOLNESS WINS. 33 
 
 in prison, he carved that wonderful wooden 
 spoon (for he had nothing but his fingers 
 to feed himself with), and finally concealed 
 the diamond in the handle of the spoon so 
 ingeniously that nobody could tell where it 
 was cut and joined; and he kept that spoon 
 with the diamond in it till he died, and 
 never told the secret to any one but his 
 granddaughter; and that was how it ever 
 got out, I suppose, being trusted to a woman. 
 Several of Solomon's descendants came to 
 America, but the granddaughter, who mar- 
 ried a McGraw, must have brought the spoon. 
 There used to be some McGraws^Jn New 
 Harbor, and I have always thought that 
 when I had leisure I would like to n 
 
 Just here Nicholas reached his boarding- 
 place, and the doctor promised to tell him 
 more some other time. But Nicholas never 
 called on him for any more. 
 
 It is needless to say that neither Pom 
 3
 
 34 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Nugent nor hia father gave our young pre- 
 ceptor any further trouble. He finished his 
 last term with the praise and hearty friend* 
 ship of parents and pupils, and was sincerely 
 regretted when he went away. So what was 
 said in the last chapter of "Nick Hardy; 
 or, Once in Fun, Twice in Earnest," was 
 entirely true. The year he spent in High* 
 town was really "one of the pleasantest 
 years of his life."
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 35 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK IS EXAMINED, AND "PLEDGED." 
 
 The son looked golden on the ivied walls, 
 And jovial greetings shook the brown old halls, 
 Where high-throned Learning oped her awful stores, 
 And apprehensive Freshmen thronged the doors. ANON. 
 
 T^TICHOLAS HARDY visited New York 
 (for the first time in his life) during 
 the summer after his labors closed at High- 
 town. He thought it would be a good thing, 
 before entering the scholastic lists with other 
 young Yankees again, to see for once the 
 big city of his nation, and " get his bearings," 
 so to speak, from the hub. Besides, he 
 needed certain supplements to his college 
 outfit which could be purchased in New York
 
 86 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 to better advantage than anywhere else. 
 At the depot, when about to leave the me- 
 tropolis for the scene of his first great ex- 
 amination, he noticed quite a number of 
 striplings with carpet-bags, who looked, he 
 said, " exactly as he felt," and who, he could 
 not doubt, were, like himself, young gentle- 
 men intending to enter college. Of course 
 our friend Nick sympathized with them at 
 once. There were four or five other sharp, 
 inquisitive-looking youngsters without carpet- 
 bags, but with great heavy canes in their 
 hands, whose character and purpose Nick 
 at first felt rather uncertain about. They 
 seemed to belong together at least a stran- 
 ger would have inferred that "some of them 
 did" but they made themselves promiscuous 
 all around, and were especially polite to the 
 (supposed) " young gentlemen intending to 
 enter college." 
 
 All these noticeable persons the young*
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 37 
 
 sters with carpet-bags and the youngsters 
 without carpet-bags boarded the train be 
 fore, or as soon as, the signal sounded. 
 
 Hardy's seat-mate was a small- sized, pale, 
 beardless fellow, with very light hair, and 
 wearing prim, steel-bowed glasses on his 
 nose. From the fact that he had a carpet- 
 bag, and from other nameless indications, 
 Hardy set him down as one of the crowd of 
 prospective Freshmen as a matter of course. 
 At first he did not promise to be very soci- 
 able, but an initial question, and a succession 
 of short, suggestive remarks by our hero, 
 drew him out, and after that he talked a good 
 deal. 
 
 " Going to New Harbor ? " 
 
 Naturally enough that was the query to 
 begin with. And the beardless young man 
 with very light hair and steel-bowed glasses 
 answered, " Yes." 
 
 As the conversation proceeded, Hardy
 
 38 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 found his companion rather dignified and 
 cautious, but what he did say about college 
 life showed a knowledge that astonished him. 
 How could a green, unfledged candidate ever 
 have found out so much? Had he been 
 "cramming " ? or was he making it all up, 
 and just fooling him ? 
 
 One piece of information Hardy could 
 prove for himself, but he was delighted to 
 receive it a little beforehand. It was about 
 those inquisitive-looking young men with the 
 great heavy canes. 
 
 "They are runners for the Adelphi and 
 Athenics, the two leading college societies, 
 out for their annual rival canvass. Pretty 
 soon some of them will be along here and try 
 to pledge y to pledge us," said the pale 
 young man with the glasses. 
 
 Sure enough, he had hardly done speaking, 
 when one of the heavy- caned youths came 
 along the car aisle, and stopped opposite their 
 Beat.
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 39 
 
 " I presume you are young gentlemen 
 about to enter college?" respectfully touching 
 his hat. 
 
 "Yes, sir/' said Nick promptly, perhaps 
 a little proudly. 
 
 " Are you pledged ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Nick. 
 
 " My preference is for the Athenics," said 
 the pale young man with the glasses, bowing 
 with an air that seemed to put the matter 
 beyond argument. Thereupon the heavy- 
 caned youth suddenly lost all interest in him, 
 and gave his whole attention to Hardy, and 
 for the next five minutes, so glibly ran his 
 tongue, Nick must have listened to at least 
 five pages of excellent reasons why he should 
 join the Adelphi. 
 
 There was a droll twinkle in the pale 
 young man's eyes, behind his glasses. Nick 
 could see it at the corners; and possibly it 
 hurt the effect of the eloquence he was just
 
 40 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 then hearing. He finally said he believed he 
 would " wait awhile, and think the subject 
 over;" and the anxious runner passed on, 
 promising to " see him again." 
 
 Our two " candidates " had not time to 
 forget his visit before another of the heavy- 
 caned fraternity appeared, and stopped be- 
 side them precisely as the first had done. 
 
 " Young gentlemen intending to enter col- 
 lege?" interrogatively, and with a slight 
 bow. 
 
 Hardy nodded. 
 
 " Are you pledged ? " 
 
 The sly twinkle in the pale young man's 
 eyes, behind his glasses, now broadened for 
 an instant almost to a comical glow. 
 
 " Not very lately," he replied. 
 
 Runner No. 2 looked at him sharply as if 
 half suspicious that he was quizzing him. 
 But the glasses stared straight ahead, and 
 the face was solemn as a stone. Runner
 
 NICK IS L'XAJiJNE.', AA'D PLEDGED. 41 
 
 No. 2 resumed his " cheek " at once. Hardy 
 had answered " no," of course. 
 
 " Well, then, gentlemen, it's a foregone 
 conclusion that you'll both be "Thenians as 
 soon as you know the facts," quoth he of the 
 heavy cane. 
 
 "Will you give me your names, please?" 
 taking out a note-book. 
 
 " Nicholas Hardy, sir." 
 
 " My name is Henry Pondright," meekly 
 answered he of the spectacles. 
 
 And thereupon followed about five pages 
 of excellent reasons why Hardy and Pond- 
 right should join the Athenics. 
 
 " Any more coming ? " inquired Nick, when 
 the last visitor had passed on, leaving them 
 still unpledged, but promising to " see them 
 again." 
 
 "No more," said his companion, bursting 
 into a laugh, "not till you get to New 
 Harbor."
 
 42 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 They reached New Harbor at last amid din 
 of engine-bells and discordant shouts, and 
 rushing crowds, and clouds of subterranean 
 smoke. 
 
 Hardy was promptly on his feet, but when, 
 he turned to ask another question, the pale 
 young man with very light hair and steel- 
 bowed glasses was gone. 
 
 " Pandemonium 1 " That was what Nick 
 said to himself when he finally elbowed his 
 way out of the car, and stepped down into 
 the hurly-burly on the platform. Sharp- 
 looking youngsters with big canes were run- 
 ning and jumping out and in everywhere, 
 and four of them beset him, one before, one 
 behind, and one at each ear, asking him if he 
 was " pledged." For the moment he heartily 
 wished he was. One put his hand on his 
 shoulder and inquired if he had friends in 
 the city ; another caught him by the button 
 and wanted to know at what hotel he in-
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 43 
 
 tended to put up ; another offered to show 
 him the way to the examination-rooms; an- 
 other seized his carpet-bag and insisted on 
 carrying it for him. Finding himself unable 
 to answer all the questions at once, our hero 
 answered none of them. 
 
 Struggling out of the jam around the 
 landings, he climbed the stairs, and by the 
 time he reached the street he had parted with 
 most of his too friendly persecutors as a 
 horse " sheds " his flies when he gets out of 
 the woods. 
 
 Only one stuck to him, an enthusiastic 
 'Delphian Sophomore, who carried his car- 
 pet-bag in spite of him, marched him up 
 Meeting Street to the vicinity of the col- 
 leges, talking as fast as he could all the 
 way, bundled him into a restaurant, and 
 dined him regardless of expense, talking of 
 course all the time, and then, still talking, 
 waited on him to the examination-rooms.
 
 44 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 That Hardy did not pledge himself to that 
 young man's society was a wonder of firm- 
 ness no doubt. 
 
 But now the grand trial of all was before 
 him though it depended largely on himself 
 whether his escape from the society runners 
 into the ordeal of old Cabinet Building would 
 prove a leap " out of the fat into the fire." 
 Scattered about the dingy place, at little 
 tables, he saw between eighty and a hundred 
 distracted-looking " young gentlemen about 
 to enter college " (if they could), and, moving 
 here and there and everywhere among them, 
 those terribly exact men who snared boys 
 with Greek roots, and shut them up in Latin 
 cases and subjunctive moods, and impaled 
 them on mathematical points. It was awful. 
 But there was a queer shock iu store for him, 
 and when it came, strange to say, it set him 
 all right again. Something in the appearance 
 of one of the examiners, who stood leaning
 
 NICK 18 EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 45 
 
 over a candidate, scrutinizing his papers, 
 caught his eye, and impressed him as fa 
 miliar. As he straightened up, Nick, to his 
 utter amazement, recognized his railway-car 
 acquaintance, the little, beardless, pale young 
 man with very light hair and steel-bowed 
 glasses ! In all his life, Nick, so it seemed 
 to him, had never experienced so odd a 
 sensation as he felt at that moment. Dread 
 of the trial before him was the only thing 
 that kept him from laughing. 
 
 He was assured afterwards that Tom 
 Tracy, the cool Sophomore who had taken 
 down that pale young man's name in the cars 
 and expected to pledge him to the Athenics, 
 felt a still odder sensation, when, the next 
 'autumn, he walked in to the first recitation in 
 logarithms, and saw Tutor Pondright, the new 
 division officer, in the desk. And Tom never 
 heard the last of that " sell " on himself, when 
 the story leaked out.
 
 40 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 At the instant of Nick's comical amaze- 
 ment the steel-bowed glasses turned his way. 
 There was a slight bow, and- a conscious 
 mutual smile. That and nothing more. Bat 
 our hero's confidence was completely re- 
 stored. He was among men after all. When 
 the examiners came and set him his ques- 
 tions, he saw little that he had not seen 
 before. He had made good use of his books 
 during his year at Hightown, and forgotten 
 none of his excellent preparation. His marks 
 were far above average when he had done ; 
 and he was enrolled for matriculation. 
 
 A dozen or more, Sophomores and Juniors, 
 Adelphi and Athenic men, were lying in wait 
 outside old Cabinet Building, ready to seize 
 the Freshmen as fast as they came oat. Nick 
 was taken possession of by the talkative 
 youth who had carried his carpet-bag, and 
 one or two other Adelphians, and would have 
 been borne off bodily if his wit and cool
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 47 
 
 good-nature had not suggested a way to 
 make them let him alone. Joining another 
 Freshman named Hobart Whately, he took 
 a turn around the venerable college buildings, 
 and finally seated himself with his companion 
 in a position which commanded a view of the 
 entrances to the two society rooms. Every 
 few minutes runners would come up with 
 new " victims " and disappear inside, and at 
 their safe distance Hardy and Whately 
 watched them for some time. Occasionally 
 a poor fellow standing undecided, like a 
 turkey on a fence, would be pulled and 
 hauled by electioneering rivals till he hardly 
 dared to say his soul was his own, and that 
 part of it was sufficiently amusing, even to 
 one who expected to be a " victim" himself. 
 Nick was in no hurry just now ; but it was 
 not many hours before he knew the whole 
 process, and could indorse every word of the 
 poet's lines,
 
 48 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " On either hand in solemn conclave met, 
 The veils half lifted, and the man-traps set, 
 Crouched spider-like in cloistered watch the twain 
 Contending senates of a new ' campaign.' 
 Each on his chair in centre of command, 
 With skin-deep smile and show of cordial hand, 
 The reigning Seniors, 'mid their chosen corps, 
 Flayed the deep craft and planned the social war; 
 While, ranged before their several dens all day, 
 Th' appointed Gobblers, trained to cover prey, 
 And paid with hope of honors for the year, 
 Pothered the green-horns at each tingling ear. 
 
 The tyros staggered stall the Gobblers plied, 
 And bored, and badgered them from side to side, 
 Till cross-fire suasion, and the dire duress 
 O'ercame and half by knowledge, half by guess, 
 The meek novitiates, sick with doubt and din, 
 Like sheep to slaughter, right or left rolled in." 
 
 Nick Hardy, as I said, felt in no hurry to 
 " roll m " himself. He had got his first taste 
 of college politics, and though he had already 
 made up his mind which of the societies he 
 should join, he intended to go ahead no faster 
 than he could know what he was doing, and
 
 NICK- is r:xA?nxrn, .\\;r> n 
 
 
 what was expected of him. In the months 
 
 that followed he learned to value the many- 
 real benefits of these college societies their 
 literary privileges, their facilities for personal 
 improvement, their rhetorical and parliamen- 
 tary drill; and even in the harmless warfare 
 and serio-burlesque " politics " and hard work 
 of the annual elections and canvassing cam- 
 paigns, he took an active part, as every 
 manly youth may, with as much profit as 
 amusement. 
 
 Having been told that it was desirable, 
 if not necessary, to secure a boarding-place 
 in advance of the Fall term, our Freshman 
 made inquiries, and engaged accommodations 
 at easy distance ; after which, having still 
 considerable time on his hands (for he pur- 
 posed to spend the night in the city), he 
 found Hobart Whately again, and took another 
 stroll around the college buildings. The old 
 Chapel, the Art Gallery, the Laboratory, the 
 4
 
 50 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Library, the Philosophical Rooms, the Natural 
 History Collection, were all in turn visited, 
 and last of all the two found themselves on 
 the top of Minerva Hall. The view of the 
 grounds below, and of the surrounding city 
 embowered in the soft foliage of its elms, was 
 
 very delightful from the roof, and they lin- 
 
 
 
 gered there, leaning over the balustrades, or 
 walking from side to side in busy conver- 
 sation, till the sun went down. Then they 
 concluded they would go down too. De- 
 scending to the south tower-door, through 
 which they had come up, they found it 
 locked ! 
 
 " Now, here's a fix for us," quoth Whately. 
 " How we shall be laughed at I " 
 
 " Who cares for their laughing," said 
 Hardy. " The main point with us now is to 
 get out. Wonder where the janitor went to." 
 
 " What an idea, locking the door at sun- 
 down, any way I " said Whately.
 
 NICK IS EXAMINED, AND PLEDGED. 51 
 
 Both ran up to the roof again, and Hardy 
 smiled to detect himself, involuntarily looking 
 round for a scuttle-hole. No way of escape 
 appeared. There was nothing left for them 
 but to shout down for help. Numbers of per- 
 sons were crossing the grounds and passing 
 in the street. 
 
 " Say 1 Send the man with the key to 
 unlock that tower-door, will you ? " 
 
 Some chaffing, and considerable laughter 
 came up from below before they got any 
 direct response. Finally a voice cried, 
 
 " Hold on 1 Don't throw yourself over ! 
 I'm coming with the key." 
 
 They went down and waited a long time at 
 the door till they concluded they were being 
 humbugged; but at last they heard steps 
 ascending the stairs. Then some one shouted 
 through the key-hole, "Are you pledged?" 
 
 It was the voice of an enterprising Athe- 
 nian. He had comprehended the situation,
 
 52 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and taken it upon himself to play warder. 
 The Freshmen could not help feeling indig- 
 nant. 
 
 " No ; bother your pledge 1 But will you 
 let us out ? " said Whately. 
 
 " Pledge yourselves to the Athenics, and 
 out you go ; if not, no." 
 
 " Very well," quoth Hardy ; " then I think 
 I'll spend the night up here ; " and he turned 
 to go up the tower-stairs, leaving his com- 
 panion to continue, the parley if he chose. 
 The parley was evidently continued to some 
 purpose, for just as Nick was about to shout 
 for some one to send the janitor, he heard 
 Whately's voice calling up amid roars of 
 laughter, 
 
 " Say, Hardy ! Are you pledged ? " 
 
 "Yes," sung out Hardy with all the 
 strength of his lungs, and, starting to return, 
 he met the volunteer turnkey with Whately 
 and half a dozen Sophomores, all convulsed
 
 NICK is EX.\:,nx::r>, AND PLEDGED. 53 
 
 with merriment over the joke, for Whately 
 had actually been pledged before the door 
 was opened. He declared, however (greatly 
 to the mirth of the rest, of course), that he 
 had made up his mind long before. Of Hardy 
 certainly that assertion was quite true. Both 
 he and Whately joined the Athenics that 
 evening, and in the grand jollification meeting 
 held in the Society Hall, Hardy gave a gro- 
 tesque account of the adventure in the tower, 
 and its results, that called forth screams of 
 applause and laughter. 
 
 Linus Dartford, who opened the tower- 
 door, was a Junior, a good fellow, but a joker 
 who relished nothing more keenly than to 
 " take a Freshman in." He and Hardy were 
 always on familiar terms after that evening, 
 and often, when there was any banter be- 
 tween them, Hardy would jocosely accuse 
 him of being the one who locked the door, aa 
 well as the one who unlocked it.
 
 54 THE WOODEN BPOOH. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 IN WHICH NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED 
 
 How should he role himself in ghostly health 
 
 Who never learned one lesson for the same ? OLD FLAT. 
 
 Whipping! That's virtue's governess, 
 
 Tutoress of arts and sciences ; 
 
 That mends the gross mistakes of nature ; 
 
 That lavs foundation for renown, 
 
 And all the honors of the gown. HDDEBRAS. 
 
 T TAVE you seen my Sidney?" 
 
 Now Hardy did not know "Sidney" 
 from Adam or Julius Csesar, and consequently 
 could not have identified him if he had met 
 him in a dozen places. He might have " seen 
 Sidney," and he might not. And when Mrs. 
 Hinnipick, his landlady, hurled that question
 
 NICE 13 SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 55 
 
 at him across the dinner-table, as her first 
 greeting on his arrival in the city at the 
 commencement of the college term, he was 
 considerably taken aback. He liked to be 
 asked questions that he could answer. He 
 could not answer that, and he told Mrs. 
 Hinnipick so. 
 
 " He did not come home last night, and he 
 wasn't here to breakfast this morning," said 
 Mrs. Hinnipick, with a worried look. 
 
 Hardy made some commiserating remark, 
 as his gentlemanly duty required, of course, 
 and meanwhile glanced at the other boarders, 
 eight young men, mostly strangers. There 
 was a comical expression on all their faces, 
 and some of them appeared to be trying 
 very hard to keep sober. The efforts of one 
 youngster in that line a stocky, stubby 
 little fellow whose name was Proctor (shrunk 
 afterwards to Proc) had turned him as red 
 as a turkey. Proc had a habit of swelling up
 
 56 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and turning red whenever he was holding 
 more fun than he could carry, and he could 
 seldom save himself, even in polite company, 
 without breaking out in a little cackling 
 laugh, so that he came to be called " Snick- 
 erby " by his classmates quite as often as 
 anything else. 
 
 The boarders were all Freshmen, as Hardy 
 soon learned. Mrs. Hinnipick had but lately 
 undertaken the boarding business, and she 
 had her own reasons for selecting new Fresh- 
 men, as likely to be more quiet, meek, and 
 manageable than members of the higher 
 classes. Perhaps she chose wisely ; but/ 
 judging from present indications, the meek 
 propriety, and strict, courteous gravity of 
 her guests were destined to be put to some 
 severe strains. Mrs. Hinnipick had asked 
 every one of them the same question about 
 her " Sidney," and, with the exception of two, 
 who had arrived a day sooner than the rest,
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 57 
 
 not a soul of them yet knew "Sidney" by 
 sight. Boys in feeling as they still were, 
 it was only the ludicrous side of the mother's 
 anxiety in the case that struck them; and our 
 hero could not wholly resist the queer con- 
 tagion. If he could he would not have been 
 Nick Hardy. Mrs. Hinnipick's unceremonious 
 way of catching up a fellow and pinning him 
 in her domestic catechism before he had a 
 chance to say " How-do-you-do, I-hope-I-see- 
 you-well/' or to shake hands, or even to know 
 who " Sidney " was, impressed "him, if pos- 
 sible, even more absurdly than it had the 
 others ; and besides, taking his cue from 
 their looks, he inferred that there could be 
 nothing very serious the matter with the 
 landlady's sou. 
 
 " He had two lessons to give in Germany 
 Row, and one in Savin Street, and he thought 
 he might attend Professor Stombacher's organ 
 exhibition," said Mrs. Hinnipick ; for though
 
 58 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the dinner progressed (and it was a good 
 one), and the Freshmen talked about con- 
 cerns of their own so as to have a polite 
 excuse for smiling, the good lady would not 
 let them forget the subject that was most 
 on her mind. 
 
 " Is it an unusual thing for your son to be 
 absent such a length of time, Mrs. Hinni- 
 pick ? " inquired Matt Calvin, a wag, severely 
 straightening his face. 
 
 "Unusual, yes; but sometimes, you know, 
 he " began Mrs. Hinnipick volubly, but 
 just then the opening door cut her short. 
 Suddenly entered a little sleek, long-haired 
 young man, and made a rush for the head 
 of the table. Simultaneously Mrs. Hinnipiek 
 made a rush for him, dropping the spoon she 
 was serving with, and upsetting the pudding- 
 sauce. 
 
 " O Sidney, my son, you have come 1 " she 
 cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 59 
 
 "Do yon know how I have worried and 
 worried ? Where could you have b " 
 
 " There, there, mother ; Tm hungry," pro- 
 tested Sidney, getting into his chair as 
 quick as he could, and looking sheepishly at 
 the tremendously amused faces of the nine 
 strangers. 
 
 His affectionate reception before so many 
 witnesses, evidently abashed him a good deal; 
 and besides, Proc's overloaded risibles just 
 then went off in a loud snicker, which the 
 young man could not fail to hear. Mrs. Hin- 
 nipick's fond questions and doting attentions, 
 and Sidney's efforts to parry them, completed 
 the comicality of the scene, and the well- 
 mannered Freshmen in vain tried to head off 
 the gathering laughter by plunging into a 
 profound discussion of the Crimean War and 
 the possible consequences if the Kussian Bear 
 finally swallowed the sick Turkey. Poor 
 Proc wanted to explode again so badly that
 
 60 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he finally had to leave his pudding and get 
 up and go out. The " war " discussion 
 flagged miserably, whereat our friend Nick, 
 coming to the rescue, told the Minerva Hall 
 story again, and under cover of that the 
 company indulged in the roar they had been 
 aching for. Dinner over, they all went out, 
 and found " Snickerby " waiting for them, 
 still holding his sides. At least there were 
 nine Freshmen thoroughly acquainted with 
 each other now. The causes which made 
 their first dinner together ridiculous had 
 brought about that result, without costing 
 anything. And so we will leave Sidney 
 to explain to his mother, in private, where 
 he had been, and what he had been doing. 
 
 Nick Hardy had left New Harbor, after hia 
 examination, without staying to Commence- 
 ment. There would be opportunities enough 
 in after years to witness the performances of
 
 NICK 18 SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 61 
 
 that grand day. A week of his vacation he 
 had spent at Fenwick Falls, helping his sister 
 Jane (who was now teaching the district 
 school) in such studies as she had begun, and 
 lending a hand wherever he could be of use 
 to his hard-working parents and the rest 
 of the family. His father had got through 
 calling him " good-for-nothing," and " born- 
 to-be-hung." His brother Silas had not yet 
 been heard from, though four years had 
 passed since he went (or was supposed to 
 go) to California. 
 
 Nicholas' week at the Falls included also 
 a short visit to Squire Gammel at Fenwick 
 Village, and his former teachers at the 
 Academy. 
 
 The remainder of our brevet-Freshman's 
 summer timS was devoted to steady farm 
 work, with Uncle Ben James in his Stonefield 
 home. 
 
 He came now to his college tasks with
 
 62 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 toughened muscles and a clear brain, ready 
 to undertake any reasonable amount of study, 
 and, better than all, with upright principles, 
 a sound heart, and a mind of his own, that 
 made him quite aa difficult a customer for 
 enticers to seduce as he was for blackguards 
 and bullies to handle. His first recitations 
 were triumphs, and once master of his busi- 
 ness, and familiar to university routine, he 
 marched upon Euclid, and Horace, and " Bal- 
 bus," and " Sophroniscus," and every other 
 formidable work in his way, with a vigor 
 that carried all before it. 
 
 No sooner was the excitement of recruiting 
 season over with the two great rival societies 
 than the more quiet work of roping in new 
 members for the secret societies commenced. 
 In most of the large colleges" every class 
 has its secret society or societies, and, of 
 course, electioneers for its own, the retiring 
 members of each year aiming to get into their
 
 NICE IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 63 
 
 places as many as they can from the clasa 
 next below them. The liveliest business of 
 this kind is usually the gathering in and 
 initiating the Freshmen by the Sophomores. 
 Hardy was confidentially button-holed sev- 
 eral times by the leaders in both Phi Gamma 
 and Delta Rho* without much effect. These 
 affairs were all conjury to him, being a new 
 man. But meeting Linus Dartford, who had 
 belonged to Phi Gamma in his Freshman 
 days, and being asked what he intended to 
 do, he waited to hear that condescending 
 Junior's explanations, .and concluded to take 
 his advice. He was duly booked as a Phi 
 Gamma man. So also were Whately, Cal- 
 vin, and Proc, his new friends and fellow- 
 boarders. 
 
 " Initiation night," the unique novelty of 
 
 * Names of the two Freshman secret societies, formed of 
 letters of the Greek alphabet, being the initials of somi 
 " mystic " phrase.
 
 64 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 average Freshman experience ( " uniquity " 
 Hardy subsequently called it, in humorous 
 suggestion of a more familiar word), soon 
 came, with its climax of mysterious prepara-> 
 tions ; and notice was served on the candi- 
 dates to present themselves in the third-story 
 entry of Breed's Building, at 9 o'clock p. M. 
 Promptly at the hour Hardy was on hand 
 with the others; and the noises that came 
 from within satisfied him that he had not 
 guessed too wildly what was coming, for he 
 had caught au inkling of these secret cere- 
 monies, and of the way candidates were 
 put through, from vague hints accidentally 
 dropped in his hearing. 
 
 Before he and his associates had time to 
 consider the situation, or compare impres- 
 sions, six tall goblins rushed out, some in red, 
 some in black, some in yellow, some with 
 horns and tails, all wearing demon masks, 
 and in a trice he found himself blindfolded
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 65 
 
 and hustled off through a long passage that 
 seemed to run down an inclined plane, and 
 smelt of brimstone like a veritable descensus 
 Averni. Our friend Nick had made up his 
 mind to " see the thing through," and had 
 no idea of offering resistance, as some of the 
 Freshmen did that night, who were foolish 
 enough to forget that their consent to join 
 a secret society implied submission to be 
 tumbled into it in whatever rough way the 
 custom might be. On and on he went, the 
 two muscular goblins who had him in charge 
 griping him fast by his arms; round flying 
 corners, down winding stairs, up winding 
 stairs, along low galleries musty with mould, 
 by doors that belched out gunpowder smoke, 
 through spaces that echoed with strange 
 whispers and ghostly groans, under floors 
 that rumbled with mimic thunder, till it 
 seemed to him as if he had travelled a mile, 
 when suddenly he felt a crowd around him, 
 5
 
 66 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and the bandage was snatched from his eyes. 
 He had reached the penetralia of mock 
 terrors. Blue lights were burning every- 
 where, and " demons " in every possible va- 
 riety of horrible masquerade greeted him 
 with salutatory bellowings, and pinched and 
 pulled and hauled Irim till he began to think 
 they would strip off all his clothes. 
 
 Then his hands were tied behind him, and 
 he found himself standing in front of some- 
 thing rigged up like a judgment bench, on 
 which an owl-faced, nondescript-looking being 
 sat in scowling dignity, flanked by two gob- 
 lin guards in horned hats three feet high, and 
 holding pitchforks in their hands. There was 
 a moment's silence, and a deep voice said, 
 u Freshman 1 canst thou take the irrevocable 
 oath?" 
 
 " I can," replied Nick, wondering- to him- 
 self if he looked as pale and scared as it was 
 proper to look.
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 67 
 
 " Then kiss the iron book ! " said the same 
 deep voice, and the echo ran around, bel 
 lowing, groaning, croaking through all the 
 notes of the gamut : " Kiss the Iron Book I " 
 
 Nick was led forward a step or two, and 
 stooped to kiss the iron book, when quick aa 
 thought a sharp shock threw him flat on the 
 floor. (It was a dry night, and the electric 
 battery worked to a charm.) 
 
 Yells of derision rose on every side, and 
 hollow voices howled, " Take him away I He 
 can't take the oath. Put him in the cradle ! " 
 and in an incredibly short space of time our 
 hero was bundled heels over head into a 
 truck like an inverted hencoop, and whirled 
 out of the presence-room into a dark hall that 
 seemed to end nowhere in particular, to take 
 his "cradle-ride." Rush, crash, clatter, rat 
 tlety-bang, the strange vehicle went, over 
 lumber, rubbish, and sticks of wood, Nick 
 lying all sides up at once, and shutting his
 
 68 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 mouth tight to keep his teeth in hib head. 
 Would it never stop ? If his walk was a mile 
 long, surely, he thought, his ride must have 
 been two. 0, the rocking, and the knocking, 
 and bumping and thumping, that he got in 
 that two-wheeled cradle ! It stopped as sud- 
 denly as it started; and before Nick could 
 fairly decide whether he was horizontal or 
 perpendicular, he was chucked into a closet 
 and left there to settle the question. The 
 closet was pitch-dark, and written in letters 
 of fire on the inside of the door he read this 
 cheerful notice: 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF HORRORS! 
 
 (The phosphorus was evaporating pretty 
 rapidly, however, and the letters were fading 
 out.) 
 
 After some delay the door was thrown 
 open, and one of his goblin guides seized him 
 by the collar with the terrible command, 
 " Gome forth from the Adytum 1 Further 
 mysteries await yon I "
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 69 
 
 In a moment he was dragged into another 
 hideous scene of blue lights and howling 
 maskers, and delivered over to the Persona 
 Mortis, a long-legged fellow dressed like a 
 skeleton. In this individual's hands he took 
 his first lesson in witch-dancing. Thrust into 
 the middle of a weird circle of figures that 
 hopped about and threw things into " the 
 mystic caldron " (a huge tub disguised with 
 black paint), and caterwauled the incantation 
 in Macbeth 
 
 " Liver of blaspheming Jew, 
 Gall of goat, and slips of yew, 
 Slivered in the moon's eclipse, 
 Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips," 
 
 and the rest of it, he began to go round, 
 willy-nilly, with the chanters, when, presto ! 
 he was caught by the heels behind and 
 pitched into the caldron himself. 
 
 "All right," thought Nick; "am I consid- 
 ered a piece of a Jew, or a Turk, or a 
 Tartar which ?"
 
 70 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 He was just yielding to a strong temptation 
 to be a Tartar, when somebody " stirred him 
 up " with a wooden spoon as big as a coal- 
 heaver's shovel, and the next instant he was 
 ladled out on the same spoon amid cries of, 
 u He's done ; he's did ; he'll do ! " But what, 
 what now? No sooner did his feet touch the 
 floor than he felt a trap-door give way be- 
 neath him, and down he went like the ham- 
 mer of a pile-driver ! In a second he struck 
 something soft, and bounded so high that he 
 fully believed he was going to be shot back 
 through the floor where he fell. That was 
 the " grand bounce ; " and when the Sopho- 
 mores down-stairs had finished tossing him in 
 the blanket, he was presented before another 
 sort of tribunal, where a monstrous official 
 with a bear's head, and wearing a tremendous 
 pair of spectacles, asked questions and gave 
 advice. Here he found several candidates 
 besides himself, who had been similarly put
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 71 
 
 through, and the mock Rhadamanthus ad- 
 dressed them all together in an absurd jumble 
 of macaronic Latin-English. 
 
 " tirones, recenti out of your cradles ; 
 bound to be plucked et bamboozlendi " 
 
 Or, " Fresh homines, nuper matrium apron- 
 strings erupti ; qui come to Academian nt 
 studeatis Euclid, preterea eat hash ; quoa 
 kickaturi undique Sophomores' boots " 
 
 Or, " Pueri innocentes ! qui think omnium 
 scholasticum some pumpkins, et quisque col- 
 lege rub-a-dub great shakes ; intuemini, con- 
 tuemini, mind your eye ! Cave tutores. cave 
 Juniores, cave virgines, cave peanuts and pop 
 beer ! nisi you want tremendus Prex after 
 you cum sharp stick, aut toti Faculty baculis 
 broomstickorum," and so on. 
 
 When the scene changed again, Nick and 
 his companions found themselves in a hand- 
 some but not very large hall, where a small 
 company of Sophomores, and a scattering of
 
 72 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Juniors, apparently waiting in session, rose 
 on their entrance, and greeted them with 
 cheers. This was the meeting-chamber of 
 the Phi Gammas, and when the not very com- 
 plex ceremony of " swearing in " and sub- 
 scribing their names was over with, each new 
 member was called on for a speech. Nick's 
 speech was a short one, but it was exceed- 
 ingly well received ; and his serio-comic con- 
 fession, " My shaking-up this evening has set- 
 tled me to the bottom, the best place in the 
 world to rise from. Whatever self-conceit I 
 had has all been jolted out of me to-night. 
 1 came in as big as anybody, but there's 
 nothing left of me now but a wooden spoon- 
 ful," was hailed with vociferous applause. 
 
 There was a cry for the Juniors after the 
 new members had said their say, and while 
 the society was waiting for another squad of 
 Freshmen to come in ; but only one of them 
 responded, and that was Linus Dartford. He
 
 NICK IS SHAKEN UP AND TESTED. 73 
 
 congratulated the society, and paid Nick 
 gome generous compliments. " I should know 
 by his looks," said he, " that the young 
 brother would measure himself as modestly as 
 he has to-night, and that he would very soon 
 outgrow his own measure, too. He has begun 
 his college life in the bowl of the wooden 
 spoon, but that measure can't hold that kind 
 of man. He'll run over the wooden spoon 
 before he's a Sophomore, and by the time 
 he's a Junior there'll be enough of him to 
 pass round to all the Phi Gamma Freshmen 
 of the third generation." 
 
 When all the "mystic rites" were over, and 
 the society broke up for the night, a Sopho- 
 more fastened himself to Nick, and hinted 
 very broadly that he would be expected to 
 treat." 
 
 " Very well; come on, and I'll pay for the 
 oysters willingly," said Nick. " I'm hungry 
 myself."
 
 74 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " But," said the Soph, " don't you know I'm 
 the fellow that put you through. It's al- 
 ways the Freshman's treat." 
 
 " Well, if you mean liquor" replied Nick, 
 " that's something I never drink, nor help 
 anybody else to drink. I'm with you till you 
 come to that ; then I stop." 
 
 Somehow the Soph seemed to conclude 
 that he had got hold of the wrong man at that 
 moment, for suddenly remarking, " O, you 
 aren't the chap, after all/' he started off to 
 find some other Freshman whom he had " put 
 through ; " and Nick, foregoing his oysters, 
 went home to bed.
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. ' 75 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 
 
 "My heart swells high and burns for the encounter; 
 Let us on!" BROOKE. 
 
 "i"">Y the end of the first month of Fresh- 
 man year Nick Hardy's class had be- 
 come so far interested together by mutual 
 acquaintance, and a common spirit and pur- 
 pose, that they could be called " organized." 
 The natural leaders took their places by tacit 
 consent, the best men of muscle and the 
 best men of mind had been found out, and 
 the orators and poets- duly marked and 
 credited. 
 
 In the old Hermeum, which had been the 
 Freshmen's headquarters for more than a 
 quarter of a century, being one of the
 
 76 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 most ancient of the college buildings with 
 recitation-rooms, a meeting of the class was 
 held about this time, at which every member 
 was present, and apparently boiling over 
 with some recent enthusiasm. It was the 
 first really full rally of the new class, and 
 it might be expected that all the members 
 destined to be prominent would phow off 
 their characteristic points. Heman Timothy, 
 the giant of the class (in physical size), was 
 the chairman, and he made a gorgeous open- 
 ing speech. " Gentlemen," he said, " accord- 
 ing to long custom, it falls to us in turn to 
 throw down the gauntlet for the great an- 
 nual contest between the Freshmen and the 
 Sophomores. We are ready, and we have 
 met here to do it. CJieers.~\ Gentlemen, it 
 is well known that in this (rial we do not 
 meet our adversaries on fair and equal terms. 
 They are experts. They have fought one 
 battle before. But we new men can match
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 77 
 
 them in strength [cheers] and size [vociferous 
 hurralis for the big chairman'] , and more than 
 match them in numbers and courage [thun- 
 ders of applause] ; and, in the eloquent lan- 
 guage of the great - Agamemnon, ' Who's 
 afraid ? ' [violent stamping and loud laughter."] 
 We defy their superior skill [three hurrahs 
 and a ' tiger ' ] ; and remember, gentlemen, 
 that if we beat them with this^odds against 
 us we cover ourselves with glory ! [deafen- 
 ing applause.] If we fail [cries of no, no /] 
 if we fall under in the fight, it will be like 
 the torpedo under the man-of-war [noise and 
 great sensation] ; there won't be enough left 
 of them to brag of their victory " [tremen- 
 dous uproar]. 
 
 Next came the fine orators of the class, 
 as they were eagerly called up one by one. 
 It was an hour to " kindle brave souls," Hal 
 Stanley said. They were soon to call into 
 the field a haughty foe. It was theirs to
 
 78 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 wring from them a reluctant respect or earn 
 their contempt by yielding them the only 
 advantage in the strife. "From these gray 
 walls more than a hundred years will watch 
 and witness our deeds, and bright honors 
 in story and song wait on our success. Lot 
 us meet our adversaries with a firm and 
 gallant front, and when upon them 
 
 Our host moves like a deep-sea wave,' 
 
 let every man weigh a ton for his class, 
 and the shock of the encounter will be but 
 the signal for their overthrow " [three cheers], 
 
 Willard Faunce fired the Freshman heart 
 still further with suggestions to " Hang out 
 our banners on the outer wall ! " and woke 
 a responsive yell with the sanguine exhor- 
 tation to " Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs 
 of war ! " 
 
 Then there was a general call for spindle- 
 shanked Barkenhead, and his expected allu- 
 sions to his legs of course threw the crowd
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 79 
 
 into convulsions of noisy merriment. " The 
 Sophomores consider us insects," he said, 
 pointing to the big chairman amid deafening 
 laughter. " They'll think us earthquakes 
 when such horn-bugs of the first magnitude 
 get hold of them. Let them meet us, and 
 our hornets, and gallinippers, and daddy-long- 
 legses {uproar and great fun] will run over 
 them worse than the flies of Egypt or the 
 locusts of Arabia ! " and he concluded with 
 an unconditional offer of his own legs for 
 the good of the class. 
 
 Cries of " Hardy, Hardy ! " brought out onr 
 hero Nick long enough to say that he was 
 not much of a talker, but that he meant 
 business, and if the class would put him 
 somewhere near the " apex of the wedge " 
 on battle-day, they'd find (and the Sopho- 
 mores too) that he would "count thirty-six 
 inches to the yard, and sixteen ounces to
 
 80 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the pound, and four pecks to the bushel." 
 [" (rood, good I " and great commotion.] 
 
 A shout for " Tolman ! " called to his feet 
 a stout fellow who had been a member of 
 the Sophomore class for a few months the 
 year before, and some misgivings were felt 
 about his loyalty. He was wanted for an 
 explanation. 
 
 He had loaded hia heart twice, he said, 
 like the Irishman's gun ; but he was all 
 right. He had " rammed down the new- 
 class powder on top of the old," and the 
 " Freshman wad " would go off first, even 
 if he had to get hurt. And the stamping 
 and cheering when he sat down showed that 
 his explanation was satisfactory. 
 
 Then everybody screamed for " Proc ! 
 Proc ! Snickerby ! Speech from Proc ! " 
 But Proc only swelled up and turned red, 
 and cackled. No one supposed he would 
 make a speech ; but it was good fun to
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 81 
 
 shout for him, and it was well known that 
 he would fight like a badger when the time 
 came to defend his class. 
 
 Finally, after a good deal more rodomon- 
 tade and splurging, Hardy got the ear of 
 the meeting to "nominate our chairman to 
 head the Macedonian wedge." The secre- 
 tary put the nomination, and big Timothy 
 was voted in with a tumult of enthusiasm, 
 in which the class yelled themselves hoarse 
 and nearly stamped off their boot-heels. 
 
 A committee was appointed to " draw up 
 the challenge and buy the ball," and with 
 nine cheers apiece for the chairman, for the 
 class, and for the college, the meeting broke 
 up. Next morning a flaming defiance, calling 
 the attention of the " SOPHOMORES !! " in 
 letters' of five-line pica, and with a great 
 many exclamation-points, appeared on the 
 front door of Ionic Hall, summoning them 
 (if they dared) to enter the lists against the 
 6
 
 82 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 doughty Freshmen on City Common, next 
 Wednesday week, at 2 o'clock p. M., for the 
 great annual trial of championship. 
 
 That afternoon the large class-room in 
 Ionic Hall (the Sophs' headquarters) wit- 
 nessed another rally quite as noisy as the 
 one just described ; and on the following 
 morning another flaming poster appeared on 
 the front door of the old Hermeum, accept- 
 ing the challenge with jeering counter-defi- 
 ance, and braggadociously welcoming the 
 Freshmen to destruction. 
 
 "Let them come on! The caitiff pack 
 Shall me, that day, the battle wrack, 
 And find a sod for every back ! " 
 
 And if my reader has not yet discovered 
 the meaning of all the foregoing fuss, he will 
 find it out before the chapter closes. 
 
 Nick Hardy, as we know, was one of the
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 83 
 
 last men to shirk a physical task or shun 
 a rough exercise. Even the bustlings and 
 clown-tumble surprises of " initiation " had 
 been to him a sort of comic calisthenics, ac- 
 cepted in the interest of personal toughness 
 and levelling discipline, as well as of general 
 good-humor. In the customary boy- struggles 
 of class life, ridiculous as some of them might 
 be, he saw a means of both social and bodily 
 drill, and he had thought enough beyond 
 mere present fun to appropriate from all 
 these sportive rivalries some solid practice 
 for the real trials by-and-by. 
 
 A young fellow so thoroughly healthy and 
 sensible, and so well able to extract use out 
 of nonsense, was not likely to neglect his 
 intellectual rank. The certain classic charm 
 that surrounds college athletics (far less felt 
 in earlier school-life) never tempted young 
 Hardy, as it does too many, from his text- 
 book duties and the pursuit of sterling schol-
 
 84 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 arship. He did not expect to be the highest 
 scholar in his class, an ambition which 
 would have cost him more than the worth of 
 the prize, but his achievements in the reci- 
 tation-room had already placed him among 
 the fifth-rank men ; and this, of the twelve 
 grades which divided scholarly standing at 
 that day, was very respectable eminence for 
 a poor boy who had " worked his passage." 
 Running the course with over a hundred 
 young men, he did well to hold a plac* 
 where he could count only twenty or thirty 
 ahead of him. The exertion he must have 
 expended to get abreast of the front men he 
 gave, for the sake of his health, to walking, 
 ball-playing, boating, gymnasium practice, 
 and other vigorous social diversions; and, 
 for the lighter tonics, we may be sure Nick 
 Hardy's midriff would never wither for lack 
 of laughter. He found time, however, besides 
 his regular studies, to compete for a Latin
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 85 
 
 prize. Latin composition had been delight- 
 ful to him from the first, and if the highest 
 college honor had depended on mastery of 
 " Balbus," he would have been a dangeioas 
 rival for the future " valedictorian." There 
 were seven other students competing with 
 him for the same prize, and the knowledge 
 of this was an additional stimulus. So that 
 of evenings when more careless fellows were 
 out larking, or v serenading or eating late 
 oyster suppers, or engaged in the more rep- 
 rehensible pastime of lamp-smashing or gate- 
 lifting, he generally spent two or three hours 
 exercising with his Latin Prose Manual, and 
 Gradus ad Parnassum 
 
 Two armies stood in array on City Common 
 solid battalions of muscular youths, with 
 belted waists, and red shirts, white shirts, 
 blue shirts, an(? shirts of chamois-skin. It was 
 the momentou* Wednesday, and the two lower
 
 86 THE WOODEN 8POON. 
 
 college classes had met to try titles in the 
 great annual Football game. Crowds of non- 
 combatants surrounded the scene, clustered 
 on the steps of the churches, and roosting 
 on the fences and trees, spectators of the 
 Grecian struggle. On an elevated platform 
 that commanded a view of the whole field 
 the excited class-committees stood arguing, 
 and trying to settle the preliminaries with 
 the umpire, a "resident-graduate" member 
 of the Law School. Erect on a high curb- 
 stone, swinging his arms wildly abroad, Wil- 
 lard Faunce harangued the waiting Fresh- 
 men. " Fellows ! heroes 1 this is the day of 
 your strength. Remember, and not throw 
 yourselves away. When the word comes, 
 throw yourselves into yonder host, and go 
 through them! [Great cheering."] With our 
 gallant leader at the front we'll fight our 
 way to the line, and see fair play. Our 
 adversaries will steal a victory if they can.
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 87 
 
 If they attempt it to-day they'll find u 
 there!" [Hurrah 1 hurrah /] 
 
 Hal Stanley followed with another warlike 
 speech. "Waste no breath, gentlemen, in 
 shouts or battle-cries. Time enough for 
 shouts when our triumph is won. Courage 
 is silent. Wait the signal every man, and 
 then go all together, like the dumb march 
 of destroying angels! Put hearts, and hands, 
 and feet [cries of " legs I " and boisterous 
 laughter] into this fight, and yonder Sopho- 
 mores shall lick the dust ! Let no doubt of 
 victory, no false thought^eaken our sinews 
 or distract our heroic purpose] In the beau- 
 tiful language of Mrs. Hemans, 
 
 ' Souls of heroes, now be strong ! 
 Time no more for jest and song. 
 Fled from folly's festive rite, 
 Turn to battle's fierce delight. 
 Forth from chamber and from hall, 
 Arm! The Sophomores must fall!'"
 
 88 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 The orators of the opposing class mean- 
 while delivered similar harangues to their 
 men, and so the time was taken up till every- 
 thing was ready. In front of the Freshmen 
 towered big Timothy. Behind him his fol- 
 lowers, ranged in successive platoons of two, 
 four, six, eight, ten, and so on, widened 
 back to the rear, standing shoulder to shoul- 
 der, the weakest ranking last. Next to the 
 champion stood Tolman and Nick Hardy. 
 Immediately behind them mustered the re- 
 doubtable Proc, making up in muscle what 
 he lacked in inches. This was the terrible 
 u Macedonian wedge." It included the whole 
 class, except Barkenhead and two or three 
 other nimble fellows, all in stout, loose, blue, 
 flannel shirts, who hovered about the rear, 
 as a sort of flying flankers, to look out for 
 the ball. It was their business to get hold 
 of it and carry it to the fence beyond the 
 Sophomore's ground-line.
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 89 
 
 Ha ! there is the signal that ends the 
 suspense ! Forth into the open, between the 
 combatant lines, advanced the Sophs' best 
 player on a rapid run, with the football in 
 his hands. With a powerful kick he canted 
 the ball. Up like a balloon it went, describ- 
 ing a beautiful arch through the air over the 
 Freshmen's heads. Every eye was strained 
 to watch its fall, Proc climbing up Nick 
 Hardy's shoulders to see. "Hi, hi, he's got 
 it ! " But it would have been an unpardon- 
 able offence to tell who. Away went Barken- 
 head's long legs one way, two blue-shirted 
 runners two other ways all three aiming 
 for the fence. Which one had the ball 
 crushed flat in his shirt-bosom, and which 
 two were hiding nothing but their hats? 
 Let them find out who could catch and hold 
 them. " Stop him ! stop him ! " But most 
 of the Sophs had something else to do, for 
 like an avalanche the " Macedonian wedge "
 
 90 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 v^ 
 
 came ploughing into their solid square, tear 
 ing right and left, and in a moment half 
 of the college was mixed in a general melee. 
 Hats and caps flew in curves and tangents, 
 disappearing in the crazy crush, or stuck, 
 pounded down over their owners' eyes. Man 
 closed with man, all heaving and tugging, 
 and straining with huge effort and fury, the 
 Freshmen to cover their runner to the fence, 
 and the Sophs to force them back and keep 
 the ball from the line. King Hubbub reigned 
 supreme. Buttons snapped, collars burst and 
 vanished, and clutching fingers tangled in 
 wild hair. In the terse statement of a Fresh- 
 man narrator, 
 
 " There were stitchless shirts, and shirtless stitches ; 
 There were breaches of peace and pieces of breeches." 
 
 Within a yard of the fence a dozen Soph- 
 omores packed in the space between raged 
 Barkenhead, fighting his way. " Now they
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 91 
 
 have him down ! " But he pulls down three 
 Sophs with him, winding his long shanks 
 round their legs. Now he is up ! No, he 
 is down again ! But close by thundered big 
 Timothy to the rescue, treading down the 
 enemy and tossing them hither and thither 
 like a rampaging buffalo, till two stalwart 
 Sophomores seized him by the belt and by 
 the hair. " Into 'em, Freshmen ! Pull 'em 
 off! Bravo, Bark! Don't let'em have it!" 
 and a score of excited Juniors, the Fresh- 
 men's allies, trying to see fair play, hovered 
 on the edge of the war, afraid of tearing 
 their coats. Suddenly a sharp little cackle 
 sounded out of the thickest of the scrim- 
 mage, and up from under a chaos of kicking 
 feet /rose the inextinguishable Proc, red and 
 reeking, and fluttering with glorious rags. 
 Scrambling across promiscuous backs and 
 shoulders, his shirt-tatters streaming in the 
 wind, he rode triumphant, digging Sopho-
 
 92 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 mores' ribs and punching heads like an ani- 
 mated battle-axe. Right over where strug- 
 gled Barkenhead's legs (his hands holding bis 
 shirt-bosom like grim death), the sweaty little 
 hero pitched in, and hammered, and butted, 
 and squirmed, as impassible to blows and 
 grabs himself as a greased pig. Then the 
 whirlpool of fight swallowed him up again. 
 
 Hurrah 1 The ball, the ball ! Thump it 
 went up over the crowd, as somebody in- 
 flated and kicked it. Barkenhead had had 
 it all the time, and he vowed by the seven 
 cardinal virtues and the thirty-two points of 
 compass that he had it when he touched the 
 fence. Of course all the Sophs contradicted 
 him ; and then the clamor began, lung-power 
 taking the place of legs and elbows. The 
 mass of humanity untangled and surged back, 
 each party shouting, disputing, and trying to 
 cheer the other down. Spectators stretched 
 their necks listening, inquiring "which beat?'
 
 MIND AND MUSCLE. 93 
 
 and inquiring in vain, and gaped, bewildered, 
 at Sophomores and Freshmen "gravitating 
 apart in sections and squads, a shifting 
 drama of uproar and rags. Committees with 
 a betotisled mob at their heels wrangled and 
 gesticulated before the distracted umpire ; 
 groups of exultant partisans, rallied after the 
 storm, made babel, singing "Gaudeamus-" and 
 u Cocachelunk " ; and in centre of the field 
 Hal Stanley, mounted on two fellows' shoul- 
 ders, orated to a remnant of his class on the 
 " Freshman triumph," which " only prejudice 
 and falsehood " could gainsay or deny. Truth 
 was mighty, and would prevail; and in the 
 far future days, when, in "the beautiful 
 words of Mrs. Hemans," 
 
 "... some lovely dream 
 
 Back from life's stormy fight your soul la bearing 
 To the green places of your boyish daring," 
 
 it would be sweet to have their just claims
 
 94 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 confessed, and to remember that in their 
 first college contest they did so gallantly 
 and well. 
 
 Who were the victors ? That unsettled 
 question speckled the dissolving view of the 
 great game, and grew more hazy as the 
 scene faded away. We need not try to 
 decide it now. 
 
 The old annual Football contest is a thing 
 of the past. It degenerated into a savage 
 rush-and-scuffle, and became a prohibited 
 sport. 
 
 But our friend Hardy, though he came 
 out of it with rent trousers and half a shirt, 
 never knew that the rough battle of his year 
 left a single bodily harm, or kindled a spark 
 of ill-feeling between class and class.
 
 ENDING m SMOKE. 95 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHICH ENDS IS SMOKE. 
 
 The way that youth to wisdom brings 
 Hides chance of some unsavoiy things: 
 Then let the venturing tyro train 
 A stomach that can match his brain. ANOIT. 
 
 TV4"Y hero was not one of those encyclo- 
 pedic human sponges who " never for- 
 get anything." His mind was pretty good 
 at retaining solids particularly when he 
 "panned out" his own gleanings in the 
 gulches of knowledge. The fluid and futile 
 
 9 
 
 particles were likely to run through, but 
 the gold generally stayed in the pan. He 
 remembered any piece of valuable informa- 
 tion, but could rarely tell afterwards whether 
 his informant wore black, or blue, or gray.
 
 96 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 He could keep the points and argument of 
 a good speech, but lost its tropes and "rhe- 
 torical dandelions." He could repeat the 
 facts of a college lesson, but not the lan- 
 guage in which they were stated. Many 
 of the lighter incidentals, too, of his earlier 
 school life, which another would have made 
 much of, with him shared the same fate of 
 forgetfulness. Nor had he seen fit as yet to 
 charge his mind with mere " curiosities " of 
 knowledge, for, though fond of the sciences, 
 he was anything but a minute philosopher or 
 a walking thesaurus. 
 
 If he had been more in the habit of string- 
 ing together and storing away trifles, he 
 might have succeeded better than he did 
 in answering a question that came to 'him 
 one day in a letter from Squire Gammel, of 
 Fenwick. 
 
 " The suit pending on that mutilated old 
 will," wrote the squire, " threatens to last
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 97 
 
 my life out." (Hardy remembered the old 
 will, for it had come before him rather in 
 the line of a business exercise while he was 
 a clerk in the squire's office, and the dis- 
 course that followed the handling of it made 
 it almost like a date in his education.) "The 
 case has taken a new turn," the letter con- 
 tinued ; " or rather it has developed new 
 complications. The bequeathed property is 
 found to have increased, in various invest- 
 ments, to nearly half a million, and several 
 new heirs have come forward claiming to 
 represent persons named in the lost portion 
 of the will. I have no doubt -that still others 
 will appear, and I wish to find out who they 
 all are as soon as I can. I have reason to 
 think that descendants (in the female line) 
 of one of the alleged heirs, concerning whom 
 there is some curious evidence, settled some- 
 where in the vicinity of New Harbor, 
 county or city, possibly the latter. The 
 7
 
 rf THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 family name is McRagh. If you will ascer- 
 tain whether any of that name are living in 
 the city, you will earn my thanks, besides 
 the fee which I inclose." 
 
 Now, if our friend Nicholas had remem- 
 bered a certain chapter of antiquarian gossip, 
 recited to him more than a year ago by Dr. 
 Pliny Norcross, of Hightown, along with con- 
 siderable cabalistic talk of wooden spoons 
 and genealogical orthographies ; and if he 
 had happened to remember his exploit with 
 " bonny-clabber " (baugh-naugh-claugh-paugh) 
 in the old Red Shanty Spelling-School, a 
 great deal longer time ago, he might have 
 put this and that together, and hit the very 
 thing he missed in the question, "Are there 
 any McRaghs in New Harbor?" 
 
 As it was, having felt but little interest 
 in the old doctor's yam, he had allowed it 
 to go into one ear and out at the other, 
 and had quite forgotten the name it broke
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 99 
 
 oflF with ; or, in fact, that any new name had 
 been mentioned in it at all. Accordingly, 
 when he read what the squire wrote, he did 
 not catch either the right " ear-mark," or the 
 right mouthful of vowel, as he would have 
 done if " bonny-clabber," and wooden spoon 
 to serve it, had come to him in a lucky 
 thought of the moment. He pronounced Mc- 
 Eagh just as it looked to him (not being an 
 Irishman), and struck the wrong key-note 
 when he went to play on the City Directory. 
 He ran through all the Mc's and Macs ; 
 then he walked through them ; then he 
 crept through them, and even made an ex- 
 cursion into the Mags ; but the name he 
 was after did not seem to be there. He 
 found Magraw, and McGregors enough, but 
 there was no McRagh ; and he was obliged 
 to write and tell the squire so. He want- 
 ed to return the twenty-dollar check sent 
 him as a " fee," for he felt that he had done
 
 100 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 nothing to earn it ; but some previous expe- 
 rience of Squire Gammel's way of making 
 presents made him very sure that his old 
 benefactor would resent it as an impertinence 
 if he sent the money back. 
 
 He wrote his answer, and even the thought 
 that occurred to him before he closed, of re- 
 ferring the squire to Dr..Norcross, of High- 
 town, as a man who " knew everything " in 
 old genealogies and oddities of unpublished 
 history did not bring with it any hint that 
 he had ever heard the name he was asked 
 to look for. With the promise to address 
 the doctor immediately himself, he closed the 
 letter and sent it. Then he wrote to High- 
 town, begging the doctor to forward to 
 Squire Gammel any information he might 
 possess; and that done, the matter passed 
 entirely from his mind, not to be recalled 
 again till eight months afterwards.
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. . 101 
 
 " Have you seen Sidney ? " Mrs. Hinni- 
 pick had asked this question so often that 
 her nine young men had got used to it, and 
 could generally dispose of it with no more 
 extravagant demonstration than smiling in 
 their sleeves. But on this particular even- 
 ing the old inquiry seemed to tickle every 
 boarder at the supper-table half into fits, 
 and Proc let off one of his little cackles 
 before the words had fairly left the good 
 landlady's mouth. 
 
 Now it may not be very important for 
 the reader to know^ but I might as well 
 say it here, that Sidney, the landlady's long- 
 haired son, was a genius in a small way, 
 or affected something of the kind, and 
 cultivated one of the fine arts. He was 
 strong on the pianoforte and guitar, and his 
 chief visible means of support was giving 
 music-lessons. He was a quiet, well-meaning 
 youth, with just a streak of simplicity in his
 
 102 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 constitution, perhaps, and his only eccentric- 
 ity was a habit of not coming home with 
 exact regularity to meals and to bed. 
 
 His musical pursuits, and the somewhat 
 uncertain demands of his business (his pupils 
 being rather transient, and picked up here 
 and there), no doubt accounted for this 
 mostly, and his facility for saying "yes," 
 and for taking every polite invitation to eat, 
 or to stay anywhere, as an evidence of special 
 friendship, would explain the rest. His un- 
 punctualities were chiefly noticeable from 
 the ado his mother made over them, which, 
 inasmuch as Sidney was twenty years old, 
 and not at all " wild," should have been 
 quite unnecessary. But it was Mrs. Hinni- 
 pick's way to worry, and it was as natural 
 for her to fidget about Sidney when he failed 
 to come to time, as for an invalid to nurse 
 a pet rheumatism, or asthma, or gout. 
 
 It so happened that on this particular
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 103 
 
 evening Sidney had come home in good season, 
 and made his appearance among the students 
 (there were but six of them) in the parlor, 
 but considerably changed as to his outer man. 
 The bluff greetings he received such as 
 " Hillo, Hehpeck ! been reciting to Professor 
 Trip ? " (alluding to a certain popular colored 
 barber named Quon, whom the students dubbed 
 "Professor of C/raniological Tripsis;) "Say, 
 Sid, now you can have your head examined, 
 can't you ? " " Ah, Sidney, why didn't you 
 save me one of your tresses ? " &c., &c. 
 would have indicated plainly enough to an 
 outsider that the young man had just had 
 his hair cut, and cut rather close. From 
 the parlor Sidney had passed up stairs to 
 his room, and when Mrs. Hinnipick, mean- 
 time busy with her cook, and all unconscious 
 of his arrival, rang the tea-bell, he had de- 
 scended to supper behind the six students, 
 and from some freak of the moment dropped
 
 104 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 into a vacant chair that was not his o\*n*, 
 so that at the very instant Mrs. Hinnipick 
 was asking " Have you seen my Sidney ? " 
 there sat her son at the table, a very much 
 embarrassed young man indeed. 
 
 The innocence and perfect absurdity of the 
 question, joined with the cause of the blun- 
 der and Sidney's looks, broke down the 
 gravity of the students at once, and Proc's 
 preliminary cackle was followed by a chorus 
 of laughter so hearty and so loud that it 
 soon forced its own explanation. In the 
 height of it Nick Hardy entered, with Matt 
 Calvin and Hobart Whately, and thoir arri- 
 val and comical surprise of course gave the 
 storm of merriment fresh wind. Calvin, see- 
 ing Sidney with his cropped head sitting 
 out of place, and in his chair, did not wait 
 to know what the real joke was, but poun- 
 cing upon that young man in well-mimicked 
 indignation, he invited him summarily to his
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 105 
 
 feet, and forthwith marched him to his own 
 seat beside his bewildered and astonished 
 mother. The paroxysm of recognition that 
 followed capped the climax, and the tumult 
 culminated in Mrs. Hinnipick's quaint little 
 scream, "Why, Sidney, is it YOU?" It was 
 some time before the tickled company could 
 sober down, and the three last comers, having 
 but just got at the key of the fun, laughed 
 louder than the rest, taking (as Nick said) 
 their digestion first and their meal after- 
 wards. Mrs. Hinnipick laughed too, and de- 
 clared that she must really buy a pair of 
 spectacles, and wear them, she was so near- 
 sighted (a resolution which she shortly after 
 carried out). 
 
 " Good-bye, Sidney," said Nick, when the 
 students were leaving the table. " You have 
 put me in mind of a neglected duty. I am 
 going to see Professor Trip, and have my 
 hair cut too."
 
 106 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " And I think Ttt go to Doctor Rubber- 
 gum (a favorite city dentist) and have my 
 eye-teeth cut," muttered John Fay Lewis, 
 a fellow-Freshman, as they all passed into 
 the street. Something in John's manner of 
 speaking provoked the rest to ask, " What's 
 the matter, Lewis?" 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated John ; " you don't 
 take;" and then there was a pause. "Have 
 any of you fellows been humbugged by that 
 Sophomore tax-collector in a stovepipe hat?" 
 presently quoth John with childlike frank- 
 ness. " He came round last week pretending 
 there was a ' lamp-tax ' assessed on all Fresh- 
 men, and I didn't know him, and he got a 
 dollar and a half out of me, and " 
 
 The rest of it was drowned in a roar as 
 loud as the one that shook the supper-table. 
 Two of the company (who did not make quite 
 so much noise as the others) had in fact 
 been imposed upon in the same way, but
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 107 
 
 | 
 
 they concluded not to own it just then. 
 The " lamp-tax" swindle afforded conversa- 
 tion enough till the party 'separated, Hardy 
 going to the barber's, and the rest wherever 
 they chose. 
 
 It was a long time before Nick could be 
 served, and when finally Quon had finished 
 him off in his best style, he started for his 
 room, the college clock striking nine just 
 as he crossed the Campus.* Then it oc- 
 curred to him that " Professor Paley " had 
 overlooked him in his morning round that 
 day. (" Professor Paley " was the negro who 
 toted pails, his duty being to carry away 
 the students' slops.) Having scrupulous no- 
 tions of health and neatness, he decided that 
 he must interview that delinquent scavenger, 
 and give him a mild " blowing up," and 
 impress him once for all with the fact that 
 
 * The college green.
 
 108 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he, Nicholas Hardy, U. G. (under-graduate), 
 roomed in North Central, lower entry, back, 
 dormitory No. 5. But by the time he had 
 accomplished this errand Nick's evening was 
 considerably far spent, and he hastened 
 home, preoccupied with thoughts of crowded 
 worR and late study-hours. His key rattled 
 in the lock of No. 5. The door swung open. 
 Phew ! He had stepped inside and found 
 himself in an abyss of tobacco-smoke ! The 
 room was as black as Erebus, and it seemed 
 as if every cubic foot of air in it would 
 weigh a pound. But Nick was not in the 
 habit of backing off his own ground, at 
 least till he knew what there was to be 
 afraid of, and certain suppressed move- 
 ments around him enabled him to guess at 
 the cause of the mischief. Stumbling over 
 one or two pairs of mysterious legs, he 
 reached his table, found a match in the 
 drawer, and struck a light. Then through
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. 109 
 
 the grim nimbus of smoke that filled the 
 room he saw a dozen disguised figures 
 sprawled on the chairs, the settee, and the 
 wood-box, with great meerschaums in their 
 mouths. A flush of resentment and disgust 
 burned his face for the moment, as he 
 glanced from his unwelcome visitors to his 
 books, and mentally calculated his plundered 
 time. But he summoned all his philosophy 
 and reminded himself that he must make 
 the best of it. " Good evening, gentlemen ! " 
 For reply one of the Sophomores (that was 
 the way Nick spelt the " gentlemen " under 
 their disguises) got up and shut the door. 
 He could do no more than that, for Nick 
 had pocketed the key. ("Shrewd boy/' one 
 of the pipe party was overheard to say, pat- 
 ronizingly, some time afterwards, alluding 
 to that piece of caution.) The twelve Sophs 
 who by hook or crook had got in through 
 the window during Hardy's absence, to
 
 110 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " smoke the Freshman out " had had a 
 pretty long wait, and had almost smoked 
 themselves out before he arrived. Nick 
 often said, laughing over the recollection, 
 " Nobody but a Freshman would have taken 
 the trouble to hunt up ' Professor Paley ' 
 between nirie and ten o'clock P. M., but I 
 owed to that, more than to anything else, 
 the turn the affair took that night." 
 
 He noticed that some of the smokers were 
 not pulling very vigorously at their pipes; 
 and when the door was clapped to, to save 
 all the fume that had been made for his 
 benefit, he remarked, "That's right; it's get- 
 ting chilly. It's a foggy night, and the air 
 smells of old cheese. Ton my word, the 
 fire 's nearly out I " and at that he piled some 
 kindlings on the coals, set up the blower, 
 and made a tearing blaze. The heat and 
 the tobacco-smoke together made the room 
 like the inside of a coal-pit, but Nick with
 
 ENDING IN SMOKE. Ill 
 
 huge effort suppressed his inclination to 
 cough and sneeze. He would choke before 
 he would gratify his polite friends with such 
 a hint of weakness. He knew his lungs 
 were strong, and his stomach was strong, 
 and he could stand it if they could. " You 
 don't seem disposed to talk much, gentlemen," 
 he continued, for the care not to have their 
 voices recognized kept them rather mum. 
 u Well, you smoke and I'll study ; I've got 
 a staving long lesson." And he began to 
 turn the leaves of his Greek lexicon. " Here, 
 your pipes have gone out," addressing 
 two of the Sophs, who seemed to be losing 
 their interest in the sport. . "Fill up, and 
 have another light," holding out a bunch 
 of matches. There was a passage of silence, 
 broken only by the rustle of lexicon leaves 
 and the puff, puff of the pipes, till the flue 
 of a volcano would have been breezy climate 
 to the fog and stench of vile canaster and
 
 112 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 killikinick that thickened the room. But 
 Hardy betrayed no uneasiness. The smok- 
 ers were losing patience. Possibly they 
 had taken his measure, and thought him 
 dangerous, else they would have undertaken 
 to " haze " him in some other way. They 
 had come loaded for a mock lecture, besides 
 the smoke.; but Nick's provoking endurance 
 and sang froid nearly collapsed them. At 
 length the chief spokesman ventured on his 
 preamble. 
 
 " Freshman," (in a big, made-up voice,) " at 
 the commencement of your college career " 
 (a peculiar noise from a Soph on the wood- 
 box) " advice from your elders is needful 
 respecting your personal habits. First, never 
 allow yourself to use tobacco" (the Soph on 
 the wood-box got up and moved away. The 
 temperature of the room had gone up to 
 about 100 Fahrenheit.) "The filthy weed 
 beclouds the brain, destroys the finer sensi-
 
 IN SMOKE. 113 
 
 bilities, unsettles the judgment, weakens the 
 will, and " There the " lecturer " sudden- 
 ly discontinued, for just then the Soph in the 
 opposite corner leaned over with a squawk 
 of agony, and deposited the contents of his 
 stomach on the floor. Immediately another 
 followed suit, and, once started, the dire 
 contagion seized full half the company, till 
 the gagging, and retching, and upheaving 
 all around, the room created a scene worse 
 than a sea-sick ship-cabin. In another min- 
 ute the door was desperately flung open, 
 and the discomfited smokers beat an igno- 
 minious retreat. 
 
 " Professor Paley " found enough to do 
 when he came round to No. 5 the next 
 morning; and Hardy had to air his room, 
 and burn pastils in it, for forty-eight consec- 
 utive hours. 
 
 The next issue of the " Nipper " contained 
 8
 
 114 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 a descriptive " poem " (which all but twelve 
 fellows laughed over), entitled Gloria Soph- 
 omorum FDMUS, which, being freely inter- 
 preted, Bignifieth " Sophomoric smartness enda 
 in smoke."
 
 A LONG DAY. WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 115 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 
 
 And the unthought-on accident is guilty 
 Of what we wildly do. WINTBB'S TALE. 
 
 HPHE winter and spring of Freshman year 
 came and went. Nicholas Hardy con- 
 tinued to inquire for knowledge, and Mrs. 
 Hinnipick to inquire for her son. On the 
 first occasion, since the arrival of the sum- 
 mer days, that the good lady happened to 
 want to know if anybody had " seen Sid- 
 ney," Nick and several of the other boarders 
 promised her, in pleasant* jest, that they 
 would charge their minds with the young 
 man's case, and '' look him up." 
 " Hardy speaks with a good deal of con-
 
 116 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 fidence ; I'll bet he's got him stowed away 
 somewhere," said Hobart Whately. 
 " Nonsense, Bart," protested Nick; " I re- 
 pel the insinuation like an honest man. If 
 you don't believe me you may search my 
 pockets." 
 
 " Proc," said Matt Calvin, looking severely 
 across the table, and clearing his voice with 
 a portentous hem, " Proc, your blushes 
 would intimate (whereupon Proc swelled up 
 and grew redder than ever), would intimate 
 that you know more about this matter than 
 you should. Have you got Sidney over 
 there, and are you sitting on him?" 
 
 Proc exploded with his customary cackle, 
 and jumped up and made a great show of 
 looking in and under his chair. Then quite 
 a general investigation of chairs followed, 
 and one roguish Freshman looked into the 
 sugar-bowl. Failing to find Sidney any- 
 where about the dinner-table, the company
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 117 
 
 promised Mrs. Hinnipick that they would 
 continue the search at another time, and 
 over a somewhat wider range. 
 
 Mrs. Hinnipick had long made up her 
 mind that she had a droll set of boys to 
 deal with, but she liked them for all that, 
 and being now well wonted to their ways, 
 none of their waggery and fun offended her, 
 even when (as to-day) it might seem to be 
 a little at her expense. Sidney had been 
 missing since shortly after tea-time the day 
 before. Mrs. Hinnipick imagined that he 
 might have spent the night at the Lasalle 
 House, where he was to have performed 
 with a " select " company of musicians at 
 a soiree, and would probably have to play 
 very late ; but she thought he should have 
 been at home to dinner. The young man 
 was doubtless very busy, the students sug- 
 gested. A " young artist/' with his fortune 
 to make, must expect to have his hands full,
 
 118 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and not always be able to command his time. 
 
 So they consoled her. 
 
 
 
 That fine afternoon, the weather being 
 rather warm, candor compels me to say that 
 the fellows in Nick's division did not "rush" 
 their Livy very brilliantly, and they were 
 no exception to the rest of the class. 
 
 Harry Weatherbee translated "muUis ante 
 tempestatibus" "many storms ago," and the 
 tntor brought him to a sudden halt. Billy 
 Dickinson undertook the same passage, and 
 fizzled on "jam turn" at the set-off. Con- 
 rad Phelps tried three times before he could 
 give the principal parts of " insidior ; " and 
 Bob Burns made a " dead flunk " on the 
 story of Remus and the robbers. All which, 
 considering the general good record of the 
 reciters, and the fact that the lesson was 
 only a review, was sufficiently discouraging. 
 But the tutor kept his temper excellently
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 119 
 
 remembering sundry flat days in his own 
 Freshman experience; and even \\hen, at a 
 critical moment in poor Tibby Dorman'a 
 grammar exercise, a mouse ran across the 
 floor, causing a breeze of mirth, he only 
 quietly rallied them for making such a 
 "ridiculous muss,"* thereby raising the tit- 
 ter to a full-grown laugh. Proc would have 
 been in his glory then, if he could have 
 been certain that he would not be called 
 up. Dreading this, he sat sidewise with 
 crossed legs, " cribbing" his grammar ques- 
 tions out of the book hidden behind his -knee, 
 (a frequent habit with Proc, I am sorry to 
 say.) On one side of him on the recitation 
 bench, in the old alphabetical order, always 
 sat Conrad Phelps, and on the other side 
 Tom Pullen. As he bent over, intent on 
 
 * A pun on ridiculus mua, from a line of Horace mut 
 meaning "mouse."
 
 120 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 bis stolen studies, his position tautened his 
 white linen coat across his round back as 
 tightly as a stocking over a darning-egg, 
 and Conrad, with sly penknife ready in his 
 hand, improved the opportunity to snip a 
 stitch in the centre seam. If Proc hap- 
 pened to sit the other way, Tom, also with 
 Bly penknife ready, performed similar sur- 
 gery on another stitch. On this occasion 
 they followed it up so industriously that 
 when finally the sharp call of the tutor 
 brought Proc to his feet, like the shock of 
 a galvanic battery, there was a gap in his 
 ooat two inches long. Of course this would 
 be discovered by to-morrow, and nicely 
 sewed up, and the boys would cut it again. 
 Tom and Conrad seemed to owe that old 
 white coat a particular grudge. 
 
 Proc's talents did not develop very stroijg- 
 ly in the line of scholarship, as the reader 
 has probably guessed already, and when the
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 121 
 
 tutor asked him to state " the uses of 
 the imperfect subjunctive," it was not ex- 
 actly a surprise to see him hopelessly 
 stuck. 
 
 "Is it used in the protasis, or apodosis 
 or both ? " questioned the gracious tutor, 
 with a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " Yes, sir," gasped Proc, utterly bewil- 
 dered and out at sea. And the choke of 
 class-room merriment that greeted his " rush," 
 and the sight of his apoplectic cheeks as he 
 sat down, would have been painful but for a 
 timely nensation outside that justified a loud 
 guffaw from the whole division. At that 
 instant a hand-organ grinder (probably hired 
 by some rascally Sophomore) planted his 
 instrument directly under the window, and 
 began to wheeze forth the entrancing strains 
 of " Old Dog Tray." 
 
 The good-natured tutor endured it as long 
 as he could, patiently endeavoring to bring
 
 122 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 back the attention of the class to the lesson. 
 But it was useless; and as the hour was 
 nearly out, rather than attempt to drive the 
 troublesome minstrel away, he closed the 
 recitation. 
 
 Mrs. Hinnipick's inquiries at tea-time were 
 more anxious than ever, for Sidney was still 
 missing. To humor her, and partly to make 
 amends for their sport at noon, about which 
 they now began to have some misgivings, 
 Hardy, Calvin, and Whately said that when 
 they took their customary after-supper stroll 
 they would make it in their way to call at 
 the Lasalle House. 
 
 They started in even more than college 
 boys' usual spirits, and marched arm-in-arm 
 down University Street, keeping step to the 
 music of " Shool," and " Saddle up the old 
 gray horse." There were six of them, three 
 more having joined the original party, and
 
 A LONG DAT, WITH AN ADVENTURE. 123 
 
 every one had something special at heart 
 that evening to make him merry. Hardy's 
 name had been read at chapel prayers as 
 the successful competitor for the Bentham 
 Latin Prize ; Calvin had drawn, by rare 
 good luck, the best second-year choice .of 
 rooms in the " barracks," as old South Cen- 
 tral was called ; Whately had found out 
 that Kate Devereaux, a young lady in Park 
 Avenue Seminary, called him the hand- 
 somest fellow in his class ; Will Sampson 
 had got rid of an uncomfortable chum ; 
 Charley Durkee had received notice of his 
 election to the Mozart Singing Club ; and 
 Proc, on whom no trouble sat heavily or 
 long, and who would have been no happier 
 if he had " floored " everything in Livy re- 
 citation that afternoon, had just got a letter 
 from home with fifty dollars in it. 
 
 Besides these personal felicities, the 
 thought of Presentation Day soon to come,
 
 124 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 when all their class would be promoted to 
 Sophomore seats in the Chapel, and 
 
 "Freshmen be no more,' 
 
 operated, more or less consciously, to make 
 them "feel good," and let off their feelings 
 in tuneful sounds. Turning into Meeting 
 Street, they passed thence down Linden, 
 singing all the way ; and by that time they 
 had exhausted the " Old Gray Horse," and 
 struck up the more tumultuous "Upidee." 
 Louder and louder the swelling bars of the 
 noisy chorus surged along, Charley Durkee's 
 fine tenor always leading, till the "ya, ya, 
 ya!" that ever and anon broke the rise and 
 fall of the melody, rang like an Indian war- 
 whoop. Suddenly the song ceased ; all stood 
 startled to see a hors3 running away with 
 two ladies. Only the moment before they 
 had noticed a stylish pony-wagon turn into 
 Linden Street from Riverway, and it was 
 when directly opposite the party of students
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBB. 125 
 
 that the little horse had broken into a 
 frightened gallop. 
 
 " It's our singing that did it," said Nick. 
 " Too bad I " 
 
 And they all set off at the top of their 
 speed to follow the flying team. Fortu- 
 nately for the safety of the terrified pas- 
 sengers, the horse did not turn any corners, 
 nor did the woman who drove entirely lose 
 her control of the reins. It was a furious 
 run, but a short one. A one-sided pull on 
 the bit threw the excited animal upon the 
 sidewalk ; there was a crash of glass ; one 
 of the thills of the pony-wagon had plunged 
 through the window of a drug-store. The 
 horse's career was stopped, and he stood 
 unhurt, but trembling. 
 
 The next instant the students were on 
 the spot pouring forth apologies, and in- 
 quiring anxiously after the damage done. 
 The elderly lady, who seemed to be the
 
 126 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 owner of the team, had fainted, or so nearly 
 so (with her fright) that she was pale and 
 helpless ; and this proved to be the worst 
 result of the " accident." The firmer-nerved 
 Abigail, who attended her, and who had held 
 the reins, was a good deal shaken up, but 
 was quite able to answer questions, and to 
 care for her mistress, while others held the 
 horse. She declined the druggist's proposal 
 to assist the lady into his store, saying 
 that it would be her wish to drive home as 
 soon as possible. Accordingly some smelling- 
 salts and a bottle of bay-rum were brought, 
 and the application of these soon recovered 
 the lady sufficiently to sit up without support. 
 
 " There, Martha, we'll go home now," she 
 whispered. 
 
 Nicholas stepped to the side of the wagon 
 and touched his hat. "Are you not afraid, 
 madam ? Wouldn't yon like a man to drive 
 your horse ? " he asked.
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 127 
 
 He had made a rapid estimate of the injury 
 to the window and to the team, seeing that 
 the women were not seriously hurt, while 
 Proc and, Whately soothed and petted the 
 pony, a handsome sorrel with thin nostrils 
 and delicate ears that played back and forth 
 like the talking fingers of a deaf-mute. 
 
 " It is the least we can do, after the fright 
 and trouble we have caused you," added 
 Nicholas, noticing some hesitation on the part 
 of the occupants of the wagon. 
 
 " To tell the truth, I do feel a little weak 
 and nervous myself," said the woman " Mar- 
 tha," with a faint laugh, looking suggestively 
 at the mistress. Then, turning to Nicholas, 
 " Will you " 
 
 " Certainly, madam," replied he, and with- 
 out more delay he proceeded to fulfil his 
 oflice, the acceptance of which, probably, 
 his gentlemanly manners had done more than 
 anything else to decide.
 
 128 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Settle for the glass, boys," he said as 
 he took the reins, " and, understand, you 
 assess me for my share ; " and as he drove 
 away, Proc and Whately joined the rest of the 
 party who had been making terms with the 
 owner of the broken window. 
 
 "209 Savin Street" was the place to 
 which our friend Hardy was directed to go. 
 It proved to be a very pleasant though rather 
 quaint residence almost in the suburbs ; and 
 by the time he arrived there with his com- 
 pany he had learned that it belonged to Miss 
 Tabitha Magraw, the elderly lady to whom 
 chance and his own courtesy had made him 
 temporary coachman. He gallantly assisted 
 his charge into the house, though she now 
 stood in little ne'ed of attention, and was 
 making his polite adieus, and expressing his 
 hopes for her health and comfort, &c., when 
 the lady hinted that she would like to know 
 who he was. He handed her his card, and
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTUBE. 129 
 
 bowed himself out, but to his surprise the 
 woman Martha called after him before he 
 reached the gate, and told him her mistress 
 insisted that he should stay and eat straw- 
 berries and ice-cream. Rather reluctantly 
 (for he was anxious to get back to his room) 
 Nick complied, and was waited on into the 
 drawing-room. As he entered, directly be- 
 fore him, seated at the piano with a genteel- 
 looking young damsel, who should he see but 
 Mrs. Hinnipick's interesting son, the missing 
 Sidney 1 
 
 That young man looked rather sheepish, 
 but remembered himself sufficiently to intro- 
 duce " Miss Margaret Granger, one of my 
 
 pupils," to "Mr. Hardy, of the Class of , 
 
 an old friend of mine ; " so that our hero 
 found himself on a double footing in the 
 family before he fairly had time to take in 
 the situation, for Miss Margaret was Miss 
 Tabitha Magraw's niece. 
 9
 
 130 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " A fanny denouement this ! " thought he. 
 " Half an hour ago I am walking down Lin- 
 den Street, singing ' Upidee,' and, presto 1 
 here I am two miles away, a guest in one 
 of the mansions of ' the quality ' 1 How's 
 a fellow to account for himself if this is 
 the way he is to be whisked about? Well, 
 IVe found Sidney, any way; and I'll take 
 the youngster to his mother." 
 
 Presently a colored servant brought in the 
 ices and strawberries (the latter from Miss 
 Magraw's own garden), and the three sat 
 down together to the little banquet. Sid- 
 ney appeared quite at home in the house. 
 and Hardy could see plainly enough how 
 matters stood between him and the young 
 lady. 
 
 " You were not brought here quite so 
 unexpectedly as I was, I fancy," he said, 
 glancing mischievously from the young man 
 to his fair companion; and then, to save
 
 A' LONG DAT, WITH AN ADVENTUEE. 131 
 
 embarrassment, he immediately took up an- 
 other subject. Miss Margaret was sociable, 
 rather gushing, in fact, and the conver- 
 sation soon became amusing enough to all 
 concerned to make them forget the absence 
 of the hostess. Miss Margaret was called 
 out for a moment to speak to a girl ac- 
 quaintance who had merely stopped for a 
 threshold errand, and as she disappeared 
 Sidney said, "Keep this quiet, will you^ 
 Hardy ? If the fellows find out, you know. 
 I suppose mother has been asking after 
 me, as usual ; but you see I had to " 
 
 "Spare your secrets, Sid," interrupted 
 Nick. " This is none of my business. If 
 you get home to-night, no doubt it will be 
 all right." 
 
 And in a moment more the young lady 
 returned, accompanied by Miss Tabitha. 
 
 As the new guest seemed to be the chief 
 object of Miss Tabitha's attention, Sidney
 
 132 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and Margaret shortly withdrew to the ve- 
 randa, leaving Hardy and the hostess alone. 
 Immediately that lady, dropping small-talk, 
 took out the card he had given her, read 
 his name on it aloud, and looked at him 
 as if she had something on her mind. 
 
 " Was your grandmother's maiden name 
 Lyman ? " she suddenly asked. 
 
 Nicholas was a little staggered at the 
 bluntness of the question. He replied that 
 he was not au fait on family matters so 
 far back, but that to the best of his hear- 
 say recollection his father's mother was a 
 Lyman. What could the old lady be driv- 
 ing at? he thought. 
 
 " My ancestor, who came from Ireland," 
 continued Miss Tabitha Magraw, "had a 
 daughter (the name was spelled McRagh 
 then) who married a Lyman. Their daugh- 
 ter was your grandmother. I had heard 
 that she married a Hardy, but I did not
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTURE. 133 
 
 know till I got this (drawing a letter out of 
 her pocket), that her husband was another 
 distant descendant of the same family through 
 the male line. Do you know Dr. Pliny Nor- 
 cross, of Hightown ? " 
 
 It now began to dawn upon Nicholas 
 what the old lady was " driving at ; " and 
 when she showed him the letter of six 
 foolscap pages, directed to Squire Gammel, 
 of Fenwick, and by him remailed to New 
 Harbor, he laughed to think what an inflic- 
 tion he had saved himself by putting some 
 one else in the antiquarian doctor's way. 
 (It appeared that Squire Gammel, pressed 
 with other business, had not found an early 
 opportunity to write to Hightown, and after 
 he did so, the worthy doctor, meaning to 
 be thorough, and finding the matters in 
 question entirely to his taste, had spent 
 months in looking up and preparing his 
 reply. The long letter, .which contained a
 
 134 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 X 
 
 tremendous amount of learned information, 
 and rung all the changes on McRagh, Me- 
 Graw, and Magraw, and old Solomon Hardee's 
 wooden spoon, had been in Miss Tabitha's 
 hands only a week.) 
 
 " According to this," resumed the lady, 
 " you are related to me, not only through 
 your grandmother's branch of the family, but 
 by our common ancestor, for the wife of 
 Sheldon McRagh, who came to America, .was 
 old Solomon Hardee's granddaughter." 
 
 Nicholas confessed that it was all very 
 interesting, and did his polite best to appear 
 interested. There was much more talk be- 
 tween them, though neither of them waxed 
 very enthusiastic over the great estate in 
 chancery ; and when at last the young man 
 rose to go, she said that she had something 
 more to communicate at some other time, 
 and begged him not to feel disagreeably 
 about her horse's running away. It was
 
 A LONG DAY, WITH AN ADVENTURE. 135 
 
 only an accident, some nervous freak of the 
 good creature, and not the singing at all, 
 for he was well enough used to college 
 noises, and surely the chance that had so 
 curiously brought two " double cousins " to- 
 gether ought not to be regretted. 
 
 Nicholas walked home with Sidney, lec- 
 turing him by the way, half seriously, on 
 his habits of mysterious absence. He re- 
 ported nothing of what he had seen, or of 
 the young fellow's attraction at the Magraw 
 house, but it leaked out after a while, and 
 then the merciless boarders parodied the 
 old primer rhyme and set it to " Cocache- 
 lunk." 
 
 "Little lambkin, silly ranger, 
 Keep your pasture safe and sue: 
 Rambling only leads to Granger 
 Such as yon can ne'er endure."
 
 136 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 
 
 A Babylonish dialect 
 
 Which learned pedants much affect 
 
 It was a party-colored dress 
 
 Df patched and piebald languages. 
 
 Fwas English cut on Greek and Latin 
 i ike fustian heretofore on satin. HODIBRAS. 
 
 r T"'ERM bills, board -bills, fuel -bills, book- 
 bills, tailors' and shoemakers' bills, col- 
 lege fees and other fees, society assessments, 
 secret - society expenses, boating expenses, 
 campaign taxes, occasional oyster-spreads, 
 miscellaneous incidentals, it was truly a 
 formidable column of items that stared Hardy 
 in the face at the end of Freshman year ; and 
 by the time the annual electioneering was
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 137 
 
 over (during which he worked with all his 
 pluck and will) there was not enough left of 
 his Hightown earnings to last him till Thanks- 
 giving recess. Hereafter he must study the 
 art of retrenchment, as well as the other 
 arts. He wished he had begun that kind 
 of study a little sooner. In fact, when he 
 thought over the matter seriously, he saw 
 where he could have saved nearly two hun- 
 dred dollars, without any injury to his health 
 or his social standing in his class. That sum 
 would have to go down in the Experience 
 account the big ledger where most col- 
 lege boys are obliged to set a good many 
 sorry balances. 
 
 However, our friend Nick was not entirely 
 unprovided for. He was of age now, and 
 could use the proceeds of the little " live- 
 stock " investment started for him in his 
 childhood by the kindness of old Jerry 
 Thorpe the drover, and Uncle Ben James.
 
 138 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 This amounted to nine hundred dollars; and 
 by cutting off the " sundries," and abating 
 some of the rip and tear in the athletic 
 department, and driving sharper bargains 
 with " good-fellowship," and shutting down 
 the " pocket-money " waste-gate, he would 
 be able to make that sum go a long way. 
 He decided not to join a Sophomore secret 
 society, preferring to put a strain on his popu- 
 larity (if it came to that) rather than on his 
 means ; and as to the popularity, his election 
 to the vice-secretaryship of the Athenics (an 
 office in the line of high promotion) gave 
 him reason to be well satisfied on that score. 
 At all events he would hold up his head and 
 pay his debts; and if on the one hand he 
 could not afford to drudge for a university 
 " scholarship," or submit to receive the en- 
 dowment gratuities allowed to indigent 
 students, on the other hand he was willing 
 to own that he could not afford the expense
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 139 
 
 of billiards, treats, club suppers, private 
 theatricals, or u pow-wow " masquerades. 
 
 Setting out on his Sophomore career with 
 these resolutions, young Hardy had a clear 
 field before him, and asked no favors. He 
 stuck to his studies, aiming all the fime to 
 build broad rather than to climb high ; and 
 at the rate of work he prescribed for himself 
 he found margin for a good deal of reading 
 and volunteer discipline. 
 
 During the latter part of the winter he 
 gained one first prize in English composition, 
 and entered the lists of the annual Athenic 
 Prize Debate. The theme chosen for the 
 forensic strife was " Personal Beauty the re- 
 sult of mental rather than physical culture." 
 The preparation engaged a variety of talent, 
 Hardy representing the extreme common- 
 sense element among the disputants, and 
 Marshall McCracken the bombastic extreme. 
 The selection of sides too, on the debate, by
 
 140 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 these right and left men, was as odd and 
 striking as the difference of their characters. 
 Hardy, a broad-shouldered jithlete, defending 
 the glories of mind, and McCracken, a slender 
 
 dandy, vaunting the glories of muscle, sug- 
 
 
 gested a lion and a circus-pony exploiting in 
 
 swapped skins. The orators in the contest 
 were Hal Stanley and Willard Faunce, and 
 right well they performed their part when 
 the time came. But my reader's interest will 
 naturally centre in the speeches of McCracken 
 and Hardy ; and I am bound to say that 
 these made the greatest sensation. Stanley 
 and Faunce were eloquent, and each was 
 heartily applauded for " a downright good 
 thing ; '' but Hardy was original, and McCra- 
 cken was ridiculous, so that when they talked 
 the cheers came in pretty much anywhere. 
 Talked ! That was no name for the per- 
 formance of the dandy disputant on Prize 
 Debate night. Athenic Hall was full, for
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 141 
 
 everybody expected a treat when McCracken 
 should spread himself. As he stepped for- 
 ward to take his turn, faultless as his tailor 
 could make him, in white vest, black pants 
 and " swallow-tail," dove-colored neck-tie, and 
 kid yes, he had actually taken off but one 
 of his white kid gloves ! a tempest of clap- 
 pings hailed him, so obstreperous and so 
 prolonged that for some little time it was 
 impossible for him to begin. McCracken's 
 self-conceit was as inordinate as his rhetoric, 
 and it was this that gave point and richness 
 to the joke of such a welcome, for the sim- 
 pleton accepted the applause as proof of 
 popular favor and genuine admiration, and 
 bowed right and left with all the impressment 
 of a Brignoli. 
 
 "MR. President Gentlemen of the Com- 
 mittee of Award," he said, as soon as the 
 throng had ceased their salute, and begun 
 to wait for him, "I stand in this arena to-
 
 142 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 night as the champion of that noble and 
 exquisite art by whose potent magic the 
 white hands of celestial Eygeia braid the 
 thews of Strength and Stature, and summon 
 to smiling life the miraculous charms of the 
 human face divine; that art which in the 
 ancient stadium and gymnasia of Greece 
 developed the heroic gods, and the volup- 
 tuous forms of the nymphs and naiads of the 
 classic age ; that art whose plastic triumphs 
 gave to the wizard pencil of Apelles its 
 beatific inspirations, and created the tran- 
 scendent perfections and splendid archetypes 
 which supplied models to the thaumaturgic 
 chisels of Phidias and Praxiteles; that art, 
 gentlemen, supplementary of all arts, the 
 Spartan school of health, the Olympian drill 
 of motion, the ultimate minister of aesthetic 
 delight, the prime factor and foster of cor- 
 poreal loveliness, the glorious, the sublime,
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 143 
 
 the imperial, the magnificent art of E-X- 
 E-R-C-I-S-E ! " 
 
 The student audience seniors, juniors, 
 
 
 
 sophomores, and freshmen together all 
 listened with about equal appreciation to 
 this opening splurge. The oldest of them 
 had never heard the origin of the Greek gods 
 and goddesses accounted for in just that 
 way, but the speaker's magniloquent descrip- 
 tion, as well as his thrilling attitude and 
 tones, and gestures, and general style of 
 doing it, wrought them up to a high pitch 
 of feeling, and the wonderful stroke of rhe- 
 torical skill with which the boy contrived to 
 pack the biggest part of his argument into 
 his exordium was beyond all praise of words. 
 However, they managed to hold on to them- 
 selves till he had stated his subject, ana 
 then their mocking applause broke forth 
 with such energy and uproar that he had to 
 stop, and bow his acknowledgments again.
 
 144 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Every gracious bend of his dapper person, 
 and finally the majestic sweep of his white 
 glove, commanding silence, of course made 
 the fellow's conceit more ridiculous, and the 
 fun more excruciating. From that time till 
 his speech was done it was only the occa- 
 sional desire of the audience to get hold of 
 a fresh specimen of bombast, to make sport 
 of, that secured him any hearing at all. The 
 demonstrations were " parliamentary," too, 
 no hooting, and no very boisterous stamping, 
 or banging of canes, being allowed, as in 
 class-meetings ; even the laughter, at least 
 the loudest of it, was mostly confined to the 
 Freshmen and Sophs, the general under- 
 standing being to burlesque a dignified 
 approval just far enough to keep up the 
 farce, in which McCracken was playing chief, 
 under the delicious delusion that he was 
 making himself the most popular man in 
 college. He went on (when he could) swing-
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 145 
 
 ing his arms and swaying his swallow-tails 
 to emphasize his fluent periods, and pro- 
 nouncing his words with the crisp assurance 
 and smart precision of a circus manager 
 advertising his performing elephants. 
 
 " Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Com- 
 mittee of Award : As the N kingly cedar, or 
 the god-like palm, growing grandly towards 
 the empyrean blue, gathers vigor from its 
 wrestling with the fourfold blasts of cir- 
 cumambient heaven, and stiffens its swelling 
 bulk in the frigid rigors of hibernal cold, 
 and indurates its unvestured limbs, and 
 sweetens its aspiring sap, under naked sol- 
 stitial suns and mellifluous nocturnal dews, 
 till, crowned with consummate splendor and 
 grace, it waves its emerald locks and charms 
 with its matchless fairness the wishful trav- 
 eller from afar; so, by the discipline of phys- 
 ical culture, the sacred human form [burst 
 ' of hand-clappings checked by the president's 
 10
 
 146 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 gavel] conquers adorning favors from all 
 the contributary elements, thrives Anteus- 
 like from the earth, and wins from infinite 
 air and sun the thousand chameleon-dyes of 
 beauty, till shape, and face, and feature, rav- 
 ishingly perfect, enchant the enraptured eye, 
 and witch the world with admiration and 
 love." [Thunder-peals of applause and mer- 
 riment that shook the walls, and lasted full 
 two minutes and a half.] 
 
 The ne plus uUra of hifalutin was 
 reached when the gushing young orator 
 grew sentimental. The mingling of pathos 
 and bathos was altogether overwhelming. 
 
 " Go with me, Mr. President, and Gentle- 
 men of the Committee of Award, into the 
 great metropolis, and behold the fair beings 
 whose presence glorifies [loud laughter] its 
 bustling fanes of business, and its haunts of 
 perspiring toil. Visit the graceful priest- 
 esses of the great -hotel-kitchens [derisive
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 147 
 
 applause], the radiant muses of the vast 
 factories and work-shops [increased commo- 
 tion], the queens of the laundry, and the 
 goddesses of the bakery and confectionery 1 
 [Deafening applause and smothered interjec- 
 tions of " good, good ! "] Maidens poor and 
 portionless, but strong with enforced mus- 
 cular exercise, undisguised by meretricious 
 charms of sparkling jewelry or gaudy opu- 
 lence of dress, you shall see them beautiful 
 as Cleopatra or Trojan Helen [great ap- 
 plause], with cheeks fresh and pure as the 
 dewy air of early morn [vociferous ap- 
 plause], with eyes like stars, and teeth like 
 pearls, and lips like Cupid's bow [uproarious 
 applause and mirth]. Their movements are 
 nature's voiceless poetry, and their smile is 
 like the sunburst that limns the rainbow on 
 the orient sky [frantic applause and laugh- 
 ter]. Health bounds in their veins, and 
 sweet contentment rests like a dove in their
 
 148 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 innocent hearts, making merry music bubble 
 from their lips like ripples of bird-song from 
 the nightingale-haunted groves of Shiraz." 
 [General breakdown, in which the chairman 
 himself loses the last remnant of his gravity.] 
 
 There was more (and worse) of the like 
 swell-rhetoric before the inflated Sophomore 
 exhausted his gas. But we have had enough 
 of Marshall McCracken's splurge. I scarcely 
 need say that when he had finished, and made 
 his last sweeping bow to one of the most 
 wildly responsive audiences that ever ridi- 
 culed a fool, he sat down with the firm con- 
 viction that he had made the greatest hit of 
 his life. 
 
 As all the speeches were prepared before- 
 hand, and committed to memory, anything 
 like a direct reply to an opponent (without 
 previous arrangement) was impossible in the 
 debate ; so that it would have been out of 
 order to answer Bombastes McCracken, even
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 149 
 
 if he had said anything worth answering. 
 But when Hardy, whose turn came next, 
 rose to commence his argument, and re- 
 marked, with a lingering twist of drollery 
 in his recently straightened face, that he did 
 not propose to waste time in " pinchbacking 
 gold or pumpkin-lanternizing the sun and 
 moon," many felt a strong temptation to 
 suspect that he had volunteered a little be- 
 yond his manuscript. He would call things 
 by their right names, he said, and he severely 
 criticised the gross fashion of defining per- 
 sonal beauty from the merely animal stand- 
 point. Beauty was not prettiness, considered 
 as a result of any kind of " culture." Pretti- 
 ness was an accident. It was accordingly 
 to be thrown out of this discussion entirely. 
 The question contemplated personal beauty 
 as a perfection; as the flower of a growth; 
 as the summit glory of generations of im- 
 provement. He reminded his judges of the
 
 150 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 significance of the old mythology which 
 makes Venus herself the daughter of Jove 
 and Dione (the divine one), and of the name 
 " Urania " (heavenly), by which Plato, the 
 sublimest of philosophers, called her. Beauty 
 was a divine idea. Only by thought-cul- 
 ture (the exercise of the divine faculty in 
 man) did it become embalmed in art; but 
 the same thought's first results had already 
 realized it in nature. The Grecian golden 
 age of human beauty was when that land 
 was the world's intellectual school. 
 
 He went on to compare the average form 
 and face of the intellectual nations with the 
 same as seen in the ignorant but athletic 
 nations, showing in a few very fine sentences 
 how the Gothic conquests (victories of mere 
 brute strength) became victories of beauty 
 only by absorbing the culture of the sub- 
 jected tribes. Passing from races to indi- 
 viduals, he portrayed the effects of mental
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 151 
 
 discipline on the countenance and person; 
 the subtile harmony, and brilliant depth, and 
 exhaustless variety of the charms of that 
 beauty to which inward education has given 
 a living soul, its superiority to animal pret- 
 tiness, and the far more enduring character 
 of its graces. 
 
 " Time has small power 
 
 O'er features the mind moulds. Their beauty lasts 
 As fragrance lingers where a rose hath been; 
 As silenced music echoes on the wind; 
 As suns gone down leave twilight on the sky." 
 
 In answer to the narrow theory that must 
 needs account for all physical beauty in some 
 physical cause, Hardy grew keenly humoroua 
 and " brought down the house " by citing 
 in choicest sarcasm the case of "the hand- 
 some thief" (then freshly notorious from his 
 recent trial and sentence at the County 
 House in New Harbor), who " lived a little 
 inside his income and a little outside his
 
 152 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 means," and had never done or been taught 
 to do a day's work since he was born. 
 " Physical culture ! " exclaimed Nick, straight- 
 ening himself with ironical indignation, 
 " here is a man, in face and form a perfect 
 Apollo, over whom at his trial all the girls 
 ran silly wild, but who from a boy was 
 too constitutionally tired to put forth a sin- 
 gle honest effort, and whose father and 
 mother in this regard were prototypes of 
 himself. And yet we are asked to believe 
 that physical culture, personal or ancestral, 
 must have made that splendid thief and 
 pickpocket ! Why, the fellow is so intoler- 
 ably lazy that he will never exert himself 
 so much as to straighten a rope till he 
 straightens the one the sheriff finally puts 
 around his neck 1 No, gentlemen, the nega- 
 tive can afford to give our theory the 
 credit of that rascal's beauty. What made 
 Bill Brian handsome was living by his wits I "
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 153 
 
 And, considering that no moral conditions 
 entered into the question at issue, the irony 
 was well put. 
 
 There was laughter and hand-clapping 
 enough while Hardy spoke ; but there was 
 no more ridicule. No one better than he 
 could transport an audience from mockery 
 to serious meaning, and make them like it. 
 And when he wound up his argument with 
 a stirring passage which illustrated the pre- 
 eminence of beauty begotten in the intellect 
 by the legend of Athena (the patron goddess 
 of the society), springing from the brain of 
 Olympian Jupiter, the genuine applause for 
 him was quite as noisy as the sham applause 
 had been for McCracken. 
 
 I have no space to notice the indifferent 
 speakers in the debate, who went in merely 
 to improve themselves, and with no expec- 
 tation of a prize; nor to describe Faunce's 
 strength or Stanley's splendor. The pero
 
 154 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 ration of the latter's speech, which was on 
 Hardy's side, led on by perfect climax, as 
 only a born orator could do it, to the apt 
 lines of Akenside with which he ended : 
 
 " Mind, mind alone (bear witness earth and heaven), 
 The living fountains in itself contains 
 Of beauteous and sublime : here hand in hand 
 Sit paramount the graces; here enthroned, 
 Celestial Venus, with divinest airs, 
 Invites the soul to never-fading joy." 
 
 It only remains to say that the affirmative 
 won the debate, and that Hal Stanley and 
 Nick Hardy took the first and second prizes. 
 No one was dissatisfied with the decision 
 except Marshall McCracken. No one had 
 any reason to be except perhaps Willard 
 Faunce, but he was too much of a man to 
 show any ill-humor. McCracken was as- 
 tonished at his defeat; and then he got 
 into high dudgeon about it. The boys 
 said it made him " hard ; " for very soon
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. 155 
 
 afterwards he took to wearing tom-cat mous- 
 taches and smoking long nines. 
 
 Bow : wow-wow-wow ! woh ! woh ! 
 
 " Shoot that Fred Drummond's dog !" And 
 up went the window with a bang. 
 
 Half a dozen Sophomores had adjourned 
 to Hardy's room (now in the second story) 
 
 
 
 after the Prize Debate, to congratulate him, 
 and have a fresh laugh over McCracken's 
 great splurge. The dog that had disturbed 
 them by his moonlight latrations belonged 
 to a very innocent Freshman -who lodged 
 on Traverse Street just back of the college 
 buildings ; and this was by no means the 
 first time that the said dog had excited 
 the vengeful wrath of students who roomed 
 within ear- shot of his bark. That the brute 
 still lived to bark was a wonder, for his 
 destruction had been solemnly decreed more
 
 156 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 than once, as likewise the exemplary punish- 
 ment of the childlike Freshman who had the 
 fatuity to think of keeping a dog at college. 
 As Hardy had no such dangerous things as 
 fire-arms in his possession, the proposal to 
 shoot the offending beast could not be carried 
 out, and after hurling a boot-jack and several 
 bottles through the window, the company sus- 
 pended hostilities and held a council of war. 
 
 "Let's have him up before the Areopa- 
 gus ! " suddenly exclaimed Matt Calvin ; and 
 the idea was hailed with a shout of general 
 approval, nobody stopping to inquire whether 
 Calvin meant the Freshman or the dog. 
 
 Great was the consternation of poor Fred 
 Drummond on the following evening to find 
 himself confronted in his study by two tall 
 " lictors," who summoned him, in a long rig- 
 marole full of tremendous words, to appear 
 forthwith at the bar of the Court of Areo- 
 pagus, there to make answer before the
 
 A 8PLUEGB, AND A LAW-CASE. 157 
 
 great Kantankerus Judex to the charge of 
 violating the Nuisance Act; and then marched 
 him solemnly up to one of the rooms in North 
 Central. Passing inside, he saw ti tribunal 
 in waiting, and all the paraphernalia of a 
 criminal trial, that gave him dim suggestions 
 of the Inquisition and Star Chamber. The 
 judge sat on an elevated chair, and ranged 
 before him and about the room stood several 
 other " lictors," five " accusatores," and on 
 either side of the door a savage-looking 
 " carnifex," each with an axe in his hand. 
 Over the judged head hung a picture, drawn 
 with charcoal on a huge cardboard, of an 
 axe, and a dog with his tail cut off behind 
 his ears. The chief lictor " called " the 
 court, and amid awful silence an accusator 
 read: 
 
 " Plaintiff Henricus Sangfrodo against 
 Fredericus Drummond complaineth for that, 
 whereas, said Drummond, defendant, here-
 
 158 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 tofore, to wit, residing in the city of New 
 Harbor, at No. 10 Traverse Street, did 
 wrongfully and injuriously keep a certain 
 dog, the said defendant well knowing that 
 said dog was used and accustomed to bark 
 continuously by day and by night, and that 
 on Tuesday, the 13th instant, the said de- 
 fendant did then and there allow said dog 
 to bark continuously from early in the day 
 through the whole day and night following, 
 and did thereby hinder and prevent plaintiff 
 from transactiEg his lawful affairs and busi- 
 ness by day, and deprived* him of his sleep 
 during the night, so as injuriously to affect 
 his health and peaceful enjoyment of his 
 property, and to the damage of the plaintiff 
 to the amount of one hundred dollars " 
 
 By this time the unlucky Freshman was 
 hopelessly bewildered, and his head wag 
 all in a whirl. One impression, however, 
 doubly distinct by sound and vision, re-
 
 A SPLURGE, AND A LAW-CASE. . 159 
 
 mained before his mind. It was " dog, dog, 
 DOG." It seemed to him as if everybody 
 in the room was saying " dog." He kept 
 a dog, and surely something terrible was 
 going to be done about it. Even the ad- 
 juration " So help you Balbus," when they 
 " swore " him, did not discover to his wan- 
 dering wits that a farce was being played. 
 He sweated and stuttered through a long, 
 severe examination, after which the great 
 Kantankerus Judex (it was big Heman 
 Timothy himself) in a pompous voice ordered 
 
 that the dog should " be killed, or effectually 
 
 
 
 and forever removed," and that the defendant 
 should sign a contract and deposit a lock of 
 his hair as security that it should be done. 
 Drummond, all in a dubious daze, felt himself 
 forced. through these ceremonious formalities, 
 and then the two "carnifices" seized what 
 there was left of him, blindfolded him, walked 
 him down-stairs, across the Campus, and
 
 160 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 around two squares, then through a door, 
 where they left him under a stern injunction 
 not to remove the bandage from his eyes till 
 he had recited the eleven axioms in the 
 first book of Euclid. When the exhausted 
 Freshman could see again he found himself 
 in his own room. 
 
 Hardy (who played second " carnifex " in 
 the Areopagus business, and, besides, got up 
 the legal indictment that the "accusator" 
 read) had no taste or disposition for bullying 
 Freshmen, and the court-trial transaction was 
 the nearest he ever came to taking part in 
 
 
 
 anything like "hazing." As to that affair 
 he was inclined to think that the end justified 
 the means. The dog was never heard from, 
 or heard of afterwards. 
 
 When Hardy returned to his room that 
 night (after three hours' absence), he found 
 a letter tucked under his door. It was from 
 Miss Tabitha Magraw.
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DBTJlk 161 
 
 CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK " ASSISTS " AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 
 
 Chide me not, laborious band, 
 For the idle flowers I brought; 
 Every aster in my hand 
 Goes home loaded with a thought. 
 
 EMERSON. 
 
 ' I 'HE letter which Hardy found slipped 
 tinder his door contained an invitation 
 in fact, a rather warm request for him 
 to attend " the Quarterly Fair-hope Kettle- 
 drum," at No. 209 Savin Street, that day 
 evening, one week. 
 
 Nick made no doubt that the note had 
 
 coine to him by Sidney's hands, as he 
 
 bethought him that Mrs. Hinnipick at tea 
 
 had again propounded the inevitable inquiry 
 
 11
 
 162 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 about her eon, and been partially comforted 
 by her boarders' confident suggestion that 
 the young Romeo was lingering where hia 
 Juliet dwelt. Indeed, it was solely Sid- 
 ney's long tarries at this place, and the oc- 
 casional amusing references provoked thereto 
 at table, that had kept Miss Tabitha Magraw 
 in our hero's remembrance at all. It was 
 BO long now since the affair of the runaway 
 horse, that he would otherwise have entirely 
 forgotten the adventure, and all parties con- 
 cerned in it; for Sidney, dreading to put 
 new material into the hands of his tormentors 
 at home, had never told that he was a fellow- 
 boarder, and Miss Tabitha had not broken 
 silence, and she had now found out only 
 by accident how directly she could com- 
 municate with her "double cousin." 
 
 Hardy, soon after his involuntary visit to 
 the Magraw house, had learned what little 
 the outside world knew of Miss Tabitha,
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DBUM. 163 
 
 not from the timorously secretive Sidney, 
 but from his companions of the evening walk 
 on Linden Street. The druggist who owned 
 the broken window had guessed who she 
 was, and volunteered to them some informa- 
 tion ; and it appeared that among former 
 classes, when her neat but noticeable turn- 
 out used to be seen almost daily passing 
 the college buildings, she was always known 
 as "the countess." Of course Nick's com- 
 panions caught up the title, and (so long as 
 the novelty of his adventure lasted) contin- 
 ued to din him with it, and with the " great 
 expectations " he had probably come^ into, 
 till he privately consigned the hero business 
 and the "countess" herself to the list 
 of intolerable bores. The excitements of the 
 closing term, and engagements during sum- 
 ' mer vacation, which kept him from coming 
 in contact with Squire Gaminel or old Dr. 
 Norcros8, put the whole matter of Miss Tab-
 
 164 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 itha and her wonderful family revelations out 
 of bis mind. During the months since Soph- 
 omore year began be had not happened to 
 catch a glimpse of her on the street, in 
 pony-wagon or sleigh. He had long ceased 
 to think there was any reason for expecting 
 to renew her acquaintance, much less to 
 receive a letter from her. 
 
 The message tucked under his door puz- 
 zled him particularly one expression in it 
 about desiring his " presence and assistance." 
 He had attended one kettle-drum party, a 
 rather elegant affair, designed, it seemed to 
 him, for match-making mammas to introduce 
 their daughters, and for which it cost him 
 considerable to dress himself up ; and he 
 had concluded that, until he was a Senior 
 at least, and had more leisure, he should 
 not go to any more. And here was an invi- 
 tation sent him not only to be present, but 
 to assist at a kettle-drum 1
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 165 
 
 His first impulse was to write a regret, 
 and dismiss the subject ; but second thoughts 
 convinced him that he could not afford to 
 decline without giving any reason. Miss 
 Tabitha was not a " match-making mamma," 
 nor a match-making aunt, either, for, by the 
 looks of things, her niece was already pro- 
 vided for. His " assistance " could not be 
 wanted in that direction. He put the note 
 aside for further consideration. The end of 
 it was that he thought better of the party, 
 
 and went. 
 
 ^ 
 
 A quiet surprise awaited Hardy's arrival 
 at No. 209. When he entered the parlors, 
 nerved and armed to meet a battery of jew- 
 elled beauty, and to face the music of a 
 chime of belles, and saw twenty or thirty 
 poor women seated in groups, sewing and 
 knitting, or learning to sew and knit, a spasm 
 of self-ridicule relaxed him so suddenly that
 
 166 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he almost forgot his politeness. Sidney could 
 probably have told, him what a "Fair- hope 
 Kettle-drum" was like, if he had not stood 
 too much on his dignity to ask the young- 
 ster. The fact was that a small association 
 of wealthy and beneficent ladiea, under the 
 name of the u Fair-hope Band," of which 
 Miss Tabitha was the head-centre, made their 
 rendezvous at the Magraw house once in 
 three months, to give the ignorant and hard- 
 worked mothers of the lowly class, whom 
 their kindness had been helping and teaching, 
 a little cheerful entertainment, and a new 
 quarter's God-speed. Hardy noticed how 
 their worn faces kindled while Miss Marga- 
 ret Granger played sweet airs for them on 
 the piano (and for a wonder Sidney was not 
 there to watch her execution and turn the 
 music-leaves), and how delighted they looked 
 while their gentle teachers, the ladies of the 
 a band," praised their work, or unrolled small
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 167 
 
 parcels of cloth which were to be their mate- 
 rial for future efforts at home. At a single 
 glance he so far comprehended everything 
 that he could respond with tolerable com- 
 posure to Miss Tabitha's welcome. 
 
 " It is quite a long time since we saw each 
 other," she said, smilingly shaking hands. 
 " But I have remembered you, and I be- 
 lieved you were the kind of man not to be 
 offended at an invitation to such a gathering 
 as this." 
 
 Hardy assured her that she was entirely 
 correct in her judgment of him, and that 
 he was heartily at her service. He was 
 prepared not only to find great pleasure in 
 attending the Fair-hope Kettle-drum, but also 
 to make himself useful, " if not ornamental." 
 
 " Ah ! that was well said, and I shall put 
 you to the test," rejoined Miss Tabitha. 
 " You have come just in time to read to 
 us. These tired sisters of ours have few
 
 168 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 intellectual treats. You shall make your own 
 selection." 
 
 And as soon as she had introduced him 
 personally to each of the ladies of the "band," 
 and by name to all the company, she led 
 him to the book-table. Any one less quick 
 at an emergency would have felt somewhat 
 confused to be caught and harnessed in, on 
 BO short notice, to entertain a female meeting. 
 Hardy thought of Longfellow's Psalm of Life, 
 and inquired sotto voce if that " would do." 
 
 " Fresh, no doubt, to most of them, 
 good, if not fresh," whispered Miss Tabitha. 
 
 Whereupon, holding a book open in his 
 band for appearance' sake, Nicholas slowly re- 
 cited the Psalm of Life to the company, from 
 beginning to end ; and being a very good 
 elocutionist, and master of natural emphasis, 
 he seemed to interest the educated women 
 as much as the ignorant ones in the noble 
 thoughts of the brave old poem.
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 169 
 
 The poor working mothers looked as if they 
 wanted to rise up and cheer him to the 
 echo of 
 
 " Let us then be up and doing 
 With a heart for any fate; 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 Learn to labor and to wait." 
 
 Some of them had brought with them their 
 little children, whom admiration of their sur- 
 roundings kept wonderfully quiet. Apart 
 from the real pleasure he found in his audi- 
 ence, the reader felt rewarded, when at the 
 close of his little performance a venerable 
 clergyman came in/ to hear the ladies say, 
 " You have missed" a feast." He wondered 
 at his satisfaction in so small a thing. But 
 there was nothing to wonder at. He was 
 among people a part of whom were needy, 
 and all of whom were sincere : and with 
 such waiters and receivers a trifling ser- 
 vice is more thankful than splendid offerings
 
 170 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 \ 
 
 to the false and overfed. Presently, while 
 her niece and two other ladies sang an appro- 
 priate song in trio, Miss Tabitha and several 
 of the "band" retired intent on hospitable 
 preparations, and Hardy made the acquaint- 
 ance of the aged clergyman. The supper, 
 brought in upon trays, was very plain and 
 substantial, consisting chiefly of coffee and 
 nice sandwiches; and when all had been 
 well fed, and made happy by a half-hour's 
 sociable chat, the clergyman led in brief 
 devotions, every one joining in the Lord's 
 Prayer. 
 
 This was the closing exercise of the 
 " Quarterly Fair-hope Kettle-drum," for these 
 meetings always broke up early. It was a 
 study to our young Sophomore (whose early 
 privations were fresh in his recollection) to 
 watch the grateful faces of the poor women, 
 and listen to their low-spoken " God-bless- 
 yous," as they went away with the bundles
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DBUM. 171 
 
 of work they were to do, and with their 
 wages, paid them in orders on well-known 
 dealers, mostly for fuel and food. 
 
 By the time the affair of that evening 
 was over he felt that he had gained a use- 
 ful experience at small coat, and Miss Tabi- 
 tha Magraw had risen in his estimation im- 
 mensely. 
 
 When all the company had gone, that good 
 lady, who had asked Nicholas "as a favor" 
 to remain, apologized to him for further re- 
 quiring his " assistance," and sat down with 
 him by the fire for a confidential talk. " Peo- 
 ple call me a woman of leisure," she said, 
 "but though I am old enough to be deeply 
 interested in the past, you see I do not give 
 up my interest in the present. Whatever 
 concern I feel in the ancient matters of our 
 family is chiefly due to the fact that I hap- 
 pen to possess some things which may be 
 of service to other descendants, and which
 
 172 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 I am unwilling should be lost at my death. 
 Some time after you were here last summer 
 I answered Squire Caramel's letter,, giving 
 such information as I had ; and lately he has 
 sent me another letter, containing some sin- 
 gular discoveries Relative to the old Gartney 
 will. This was found, it seems, in the old 
 Hanford house, where Hiram Gartney sud- 
 denly died a century ago. I think you told 
 me you were with the lawyer at the time 
 this will came into his hands. Can you 
 remember ever hearing him say how it was 
 found ? " 
 
 " Mysteriously resurrected from an old cab- 
 inet, just as lost wills always are," said Har- 
 dy, laughing. And then, anxious to oblige 
 his hostess, he " put on his thinking-cap," and 
 addressed himself seriously to the subject. 
 He informed Mi*s Tabitha that he did recol- 
 lect Squire Gammel's mentioning once about 
 the finding of the will; that it was in an
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 173 
 
 ancient house in North Timlow, about five 
 iniles from Fenwick, in the attic lumber- 
 room, in a yes, he believed it really was 
 an " old cabinet," one of those queer old 
 treasure-traps that fancy-joiners delighted to 
 make, generations ago, full of impossible tills 
 and invisible panel-pockets. " That old cab- 
 inet, or secretary, or whatever you'd call it, 
 lay among a lot of broken furniture, going 
 to pieces or gone to pieces, and the old 
 parchment was accidentally seen sticking 
 through one of its cracks; and the rats 
 had " 
 
 " ! " ejaculated Miss Tabitha; interrupt- 
 ing him with an earnest gesture. " That 
 old secretary never rightfully belonged to 
 the Hanfords ! When I was a little girl ten 
 years old, I remember my great-grandfather 
 telling me about that old secretary, that 
 Sheldon McRagh himself brought from Eng- 
 land. It was always in the Magraw family,
 
 174 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and ought to be now. I wonder how it ever 
 got so neglected and broken. Perhaps one 
 of the tills contained the rest of Well, let 
 that go. Hiram Gartney was my great- 
 grandfather's cousin, and there is a story 
 that ho took some wicked advantage of the 
 Magraws during the terribly hard times be- 
 fore the French and Indian war. His sister's 
 children, the Hanfords, got hold of his prop- 
 erty, but they never prospered, and by a 
 strange providence the will, that gave But 
 really, Mr. Hardy, you must be astonished to 
 hear me run on. Your story called up some 
 things I had lost. This correspondence only 
 told me the will was found in the Hanford 
 house, and gave no particulars. Pardon an 
 Id woman's excitement, and say if you re- 
 member anything more." 
 
 " Nothing more," said Nicholas, smiling! 
 and assuring her that her excitement was 
 excusable and perfectly natural. "But go
 
 NICK ASSI8T8 AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 175 
 
 on, Miss Magraw. I am really curious to 
 know what discoveries my good friend the 
 squire has made." 
 
 " Well, to begin with, the old Hanford 
 house has been pulled down, and But what 
 am I thinking of? I'll bring the letter, and 
 read it." She brought the letter, and then, 
 putting it into Hardy's hands, urged him to 
 read it himself aloud. It was not long, but 
 it certainly contained an odd piece of news. 
 It stated that, by the suggestion of Dr. Nor- 
 cross, who in correspondence with Squire 
 Gammel had learned that the old Hanford 
 house was to be destroyed, it had been de- 
 termined to have interested parties on the 
 spot to watch the demolition, and be wit- 
 nesses to anything that might happen to be 
 found. The old doctor conceived that the 
 rats or mice might have torn away the dry 
 parchment rather for bedding than for food, 
 and if possibly there were any bits of the
 
 176 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 old will, however small, lodged in the cran- 
 nies of the house, he thought it would be 
 a pity if the right persons should not know 
 it. Accordingly, the squire himself, and two 
 of the claimants to the Gartney property, had 
 repaired to North Timlow, and were present 
 when the old building was pulled down. A 
 handsome fee to the workmen, and a good 
 understanding with the contractor, gave them 
 a fair field, and during the whole process 
 of destruction, but especially of the upper 
 part, a dozen pairs of eyes were keenly alert, 
 looking for rats' nests and parchment rags. 
 Sure enough, the nests were there in abun- 
 dance, and, what was more to the purpose, 
 they found in them, and scattered behind the 
 wainscots, small scraps of* writing to the 
 number of many hundreds ! Not a twentieth 
 part of these belonged to the old will, but 
 when the parchment had been carefully sort- 
 ed from the paper, there were enough gemr
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DKUM. 177 
 
 ine pieces to make a handful. An expert 
 was hired to put these together, and the 
 result was that the names of Nancy Lyman 
 and Luke Hanford, each coupled with a des- 
 ignated bequest in money, were brought out 
 plain, and also the mutilated sentence, "... 
 give and be ... to J ... m . . . . ie my 
 old private e a} T . . . am." 
 
 The squire wrote in the letter that neither 
 the expert nor himself had been able to make 
 anything out of this, and he therefore sent 
 a fac-simile to Miss Magraw, for her exami- 
 nation and opinion. Nicholas became intense- 
 ly interested in 4his singular story of the 
 partial restoration of the old will. When 
 he had finished reading he paused to pore 
 over the fragment in the fac-simile. 
 
 "You have not read it all," said Miss 
 Tabitha. He turned the sheet, and saw the 
 postscript : 
 
 " Should you despair of finding the key 
 12
 
 178 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 to the broken writing, I would advise yon 
 to send for Mr. Nicholas Hardy, a college 
 student in the Sophomore class. He once 
 saw the original will at my office, and being 
 a young man of quick faculty, he may be 
 able to assist you." 
 
 Miss Tabitha laughed as Nick stammered 
 over his own praises, taken completely by 
 surprise. 
 
 "And the young man has assisted me al- 
 ready very materially," she said. 
 
 Hardy looked at her inquiringly. "Ah! 
 I see. You are thinking of the old secretary 
 in the Hanford garret." 
 "Yes; and the French for it is " 
 " Escritoir." 
 
 " There you have it. You are eyes to the 
 blind to-night, Mr. Hardy and you shall 
 have your reward. This is the way I fill 
 out the gaps in the broken writing now : ' I 
 give and bequeath to Jeremiah Bardie my
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 179 
 
 old private escritoir, with all that it may 
 contain.' '' 
 
 " Capital I " exclaimed Hardy, laughing and 
 clapping his hands. 
 
 "None the less so from the fact that Jer- 
 emiah Hardy was your great-grandfather," 
 said Miss Tafaitha. 
 
 " But," said Nicholas, half puzzled, " a law- 
 yer of Squire Gammel's acuteness ought to 
 have guessed out this. There was the old 
 cabinet, right before him, as you may say." 
 
 " O, no, Mr. Hardy. Don't you see that, 
 not knowing what I know, he had no clue ? 
 Wanting my clue, the finding of the will in the 
 cabinet would rather be the very reason he 
 would not think of finding the cabinet in the 
 will. And now," continued Miss Tabitha de- 
 cidedly, " I shall not write to Squire GammeL 
 I shall go to see him, and to find out, if I 
 can, what became of that old secretary. By 
 the way, do you know any Hanfords ? "
 
 180 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " I was thinking," said Nicholas. " I am 
 very sure that my old teacher my first 
 ' school-ma'am/ who taught me my letters 
 married a Hanford." 
 
 "Where do they' live ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Well, probably that can be found out," 
 said Miss Tabitha. " And now for my sequel. 
 You have heard through Dr. Norcross the 
 tradition o'f the ancestral spoon, the dia- 
 mond concealed in the handle, its inherit- 
 ance by the Magraws, and so forth; and 
 you have doubtless thought it all very ab- 
 surd. Well, the ancestral wooden spoon is 
 a fact, as my grandfather Magraw could tes- 
 tify, for his father owned the old relic, and 
 kept it as the apple of his eye. Since that 
 date, through accident (or secret mischief, 
 as I think), its full history is lost. I have 
 little doubt that it was originally kept in 
 a secret slide of the old cabinet-escritoir.
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 181 
 
 The diamond story has always seemed to me 
 a legend of family vanity, for the origin of 
 the spoon itself is told in various ways. One 
 account relates how Captain Solomon Hardee, 
 during his wanderings in the East, after es- 
 caping from captivity, was saved from star- 
 vation by a Tartar woman who fed him with 
 milk from a woo'den spoon ; and that in grate- 
 ful remembrance he afterwards had a wooden 
 spoon made, and used the figure of it as a 
 sort of family crest. But it is certain that 
 some strange value always attached to this 
 wonderful heirloom. That it once had a great 
 diamond in its handle is, of course, possi- 
 ble, and the mysterious disappearance of the 
 spoon may give some color of truth to the 
 story. My grandfather found no trace of it 
 till he was over eighty years old. Then 
 he discovered the bowl only the broken 
 lower piece and in a very unlikely hiding- 
 place to be left in by " accident." The lost
 
 182 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 handle was never heard of again. He gave 
 the fragment to my father, and my father 
 gave it to me. / have the bowl of the old 
 Solomon Hardee spoon in my possession now, 
 and I am going to give it to you" 
 
 Miss Tabitha rose and went out of the 
 room, leaving Nick in a curious maze. She 
 soon returned, bringing with her the won- 
 derful relic. The piece was of some very 
 dark kind of wood, a marvel of quaint and 
 cunning carving, of sharper and more arrow- 
 like pattern than an ordinary spoon-bowl, 
 very large and smooth, and having a double- 
 bevelled rim, and the figure of a grape-leaf 
 nicely cut at the base of the handle-stump. 
 
 " There, Mr. Hardy," she said quite seri- 
 ously, putting it into his hand. " I am the 
 last of my line, and whether we have read 
 the old will correctly or not, I am convinced 
 that this belongs to you. Perhaps you wifl 
 prize it for its ancestral associations ; and I
 
 NICK ASSISTS AT A KETTLE-DRUM. 183 
 
 advise you that your family name is no igno- 
 ble one. Your great-grandfather, Jeremiah 
 Hardy, became a colonel in the Revolution. 
 In his old age he came to New Harbor (as 
 a venerable neighbor of mine has recently 
 told me), and visited a cave at Seagate 
 Cliff, where once, when chased by a party 
 of British soldiers, he took refuge, and kept 
 ten red-coats at bay for two hours, till he 
 was rescued. His name, scratched on the 
 rock with his bayonet, is seen there yet. 
 Anytime you care to go there the place 
 commands a lovely view of the bay I will 
 give you directions where to find the old 
 soldier's mark." 
 
 "Well, well," thought Nick, as the gate 
 of the Magraw house finally closed behind 
 him, " I have had history enough given out 
 to me to-night to furnish a week's lessons. 
 Wonder if I should make a 'rush' if I 
 happened to be called up on it to-morrow.
 
 184 THE WOODPN SPOON. 
 
 Really though, I must entertain a greater 
 respect for Old Dr. Pliny Norcross, and his 
 mouldy stories, after this. To think I should 
 come so near being made an antiquary my- 
 self! Hurrah for Aunt Tabitha, anyhow, 
 and I'm in for a family romance (need 
 enough of redeeming my family, goodness 
 hnows I " ) 
 
 But a brisk two-mile walk in the bracing 
 air wore off the new fascination, and when 
 he overtook Calvin and Whately going into 
 old North Central, Nick was quite his old 
 self again. 
 
 "Hillo, Hardy, where from?" 
 
 "Been out playing a little that's all." 
 
 " Playing on what ? " 
 
 " Playing on a kettle-drum with a wooden 
 spoon."
 
 PONYING FOR BIENNIAL. 185 
 
 ' CHAPTER IX. 
 
 
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 
 
 A bad horse's rider will speed as he feels; 
 
 For a spur in the head is worth two in the heels. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 TTAVE you seen Proc?" 
 
 It did not happen to be "Have you 
 seen Sidney ? " that evening at Mrs. Hinni- 
 pick's table, thsee days before terrible " Bien- 
 nial." But the parody was too good to pass 
 without laughter and appreciative remarks. 
 The fellows were all really anxious to know 
 what had become of Proc. So was Mrs. Hin- 
 nipick. So was Sidney; for whoever else had 
 made him a martyr, he had never suffered 
 from Snickerby. Snickerby was the general 
 favo-ite. And now where could he be ? He
 
 . 
 186 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 had never failed them before; for he was a 
 good trencherman, and always manfully faced 
 his plate. To do a breakfast, or a dinner, or 
 a supper, at Mrs. Hinnipick's without Proc, 
 was worse than Midsummer Night's Dream 
 with Puck left out. Nobody could spare him. 
 His absence now disturbed the harmonies 
 fearfully. The hiatus where his cackle al- 
 ways came in, when anything particularly 
 relishing was said, was actually painful. 
 
 The theories to account for him were 
 various if not ingenious. One said that 
 probably he wasn't hungry an absurdity 
 which was unanimously shouted down. One 
 thought he had gone to the tailor's to have 
 the rip in his coat mended. One wagered 
 that he was down at the printing-office, hid 
 in a swab, to gobble an examination paper. 
 One suggested that he had eloped with the 
 "Park Avenue Heron" (a girl a foot and a 
 half tallr. iaan himself, for whom he had
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 187 
 
 once accidentally expressed admiration). One 
 concluded that he had been to the Faculty 
 and got leave of absence till Biennial was 
 over a supposition which, for its moun- 
 tainous prodigiousness, and its sarcastic ap- 
 plication to Proc's well-known scholarship, 
 was of course voted the best joke of all. So 
 the ifs and perhapses went round guesses 
 wholly futile and at fault every one most 
 of all those which ascribed the disappear- 
 ance of Mr. Honorius Proctor to dishonorable 
 causes. He was no such man. 
 
 Inquiry languished on the inconsolable 
 boarders' lips as they dispatched their supper 
 with impaired appetites, pining for their mer- 
 riest mate. 
 
 "And scant and small the booty proved, 
 For Gelert was not there." 
 
 The truth of 'the matter was that Proc, in- 
 stead of not being "hungry," had felt an
 
 188 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 unusual desire to replenish his inner man, 
 that afternoon, at the close of recitation, 
 and not finding any one else sufficiently so 
 inclined to bear him company, he had gone 
 alone to a restaurant down town, and ordered 
 mutton-chops and cold plum-pudding. The 
 restaurant was in the second story, and see- 
 ing unoccupied the table that stood in the 
 oriel window at the end of the saloon, a very 
 inviting position for a warm day, Proc estab- 
 lished himself there to enjoy his lunch, glanc- 
 ing now and then through the open window, 
 and now and then down the columns of a 
 newspaper that he found lying handy. The 
 chops and plum-pudding proved most tooth- 
 some and filling : he was thirsty, too, and 
 the ice- water tasted delicious ; and naturally 
 he drank a good deal. He lunched luxuri- 
 ously, stopping at intervals to take up and 
 shake a palm-leaf fan. As the last morsel 
 disappeared from his plate, his attention wan-
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 189 
 
 dered to the newspaper again. Taking it 
 in his hand, he lounged comfortably back, 
 till his chair touched the low window-sill, 
 and so sat at ease, reading and fanning off 
 the flies. The summer air floated in, soft 
 and balmy, under the lifted sash, wafting 
 the soothing rustle of leaves, and the sounds 
 of the city, mingled in a drowsy hum. Slow- 
 ly the fan dropped then the paper. Proc 
 fell asleep, and rolled out of the window 1 
 
 Now it so happened that a horse stood 
 tied by his bridle directly under the win- 
 dow, and Proc, waking at the instant he 
 pitched over the sill, and clawing wildly out 
 to save himself, lauded plump on the animal's 
 back, and clung there like a circus monkey. 
 The horse, which was quite a spirited one, 
 frightened nearly to death at being pounced 
 upon so suddenly from the air, leaped and 
 reared with a great snort, and tearing off 
 his head- stall, rushed out of the yard and
 
 190 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 down the street at a speed that threatened 
 to break his neck and run everybody down. 
 He tossed his head, and threw his heels, and 
 jumped over two small boys and an old wo- 
 man's peanut-cart, and knocked down a hand- 
 organ man, and flung, and flew, and cavorted, 
 and careered, as if he was trying to dislo- 
 cate himself. To dislodge his rider was out 
 of the question, for he had more than his 
 match on his back. Having no bridle, Proc 
 hung to his mane with a mortal grip, and 
 was whirled along, hatless, tousled, and red, 
 bounding into the air every now and then 
 so high that he almost turned a summersault, 
 but always coming down to his seat again 
 with the true instinct of a man whom noth- 
 ing physical could beat. A madder horse, 
 or more madly mounted, never ran, as any 
 one would have said who saw the sight. 
 Truck teams reined out, carriage teams 
 backed and dodged, small Arabs climbed the
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 191 
 
 awning-posts and squealed " hi-yah ! " dogs 
 barked, pedestrians halloed and roared, wo- 
 men shrieked and laughed in the same 
 breath, good old men swung their arms and 
 shouted " whoa I " and all the windows were 
 stuffed with staring heads, till the four- 
 legged hurricane and its ^two-legged pas- 
 senger swept by out of view. The Wild 
 Huntsman himself, blown through the city 
 out of the Black Forest, could not have cre- 
 ated a greater sensation. Down Meeting 
 Street, all the way from the Common to the 
 railway station, the terrified horse rushed 
 with his unknown rider, vaulted the bridge 
 with two thumps of his hoofs, wheeled the 
 corner at the post-office, and galloped down 
 Causeway Street, till he reached the stable 
 where he belonged. 
 
 One can better fancy than describe the 
 amazement of the hostlers when one of their 
 favorite horses plunged into the livery-yard,
 
 192 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 frantic and bridleless, and carrying a hatless 
 Sophomore on his back ! It was easy enough 
 to " place " Proc, by the society pin on his 
 scarf, though none of them knew his name. 
 \Vui-d soon went to the proprietor. " 'Ere's 
 Black Sam, that Holden took out to be shod, 
 come 'ome wi' one o' them college fellers 
 ridin' him." And a few minutes later the 
 proprietor was on hand to see about it. 
 " What does all this mean ? " says the man. 
 Proc, who had dismounted and poked his 
 hair out of his eyes, resumed as much of 
 his diguity as he could without a hat, and 
 told a plain, unvarnished tale. But the man 
 laughed him to scorn, while all the stable- 
 boys hooted and groaned. 
 
 " You don't make such a story as iluzb 
 go down with me," said he. 
 
 Appearances were against Proc, certainly. 
 He was obliged to confess to himself that 
 the whole thing was too preposterous to be
 
 PONYING FOR BIENNIAL. 193 
 
 believed. It was in vain that be gave his 
 name, and references for his good character, 
 and protested that he told the truth. The 
 stable-man was implacable, and the hostlers 
 treated his words with derision. Proc was 
 not the fellow to ask favors. His dander 
 began to rise. He was ill an awkward fix, 
 but he would get out of it without striking 
 his colors, or not at all. 
 
 " Where's Holden ? " inquired the stable- 
 man. 
 
 " Dunno." 
 
 Of course nobody knew. But at that mo- 
 ment Holden was making long strides in the 
 direction of the stable, and very soon he 
 came in. He had seen just enough of the 
 escapade of Proc and the horse to know 
 next to nothing about it, and to be very 
 wrathy and unreasonable ; and starting off in 
 that frame of mind, he reached headquarters 
 with anything but a charitable report of 
 13
 
 194 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the " college scamp as stole his horse, an' 
 run away with't." 
 
 "Thought 'twas fun, didn't ye?" quoth 
 the stable-man, looking Proc's stocky little 
 figure grimly over. " Tim, go call a police- 
 man." 
 
 Unluckily for our bare-headed adventurer, 
 none of his own class had happened to be 
 on the street to witness his crazy ride. Sev- 
 eral members of the other classes had seen 
 him, and a few recognized him, and two or 
 three had run after, as for as the bridge, 
 but noticing that the horse turned into the 
 livery-yard, they went no further ; and before 
 Proc could arrange matters with his irate 
 keepers, chapel prayers were over, and the 
 students had all gone to tea. 
 
 When the " peeler " made his appearance, 
 awful in all the glory of his official buttons, 
 Proc told him the same story that he had 
 told the proprietor. Bat that dignitary was
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 195 
 
 incredulous too ; and the disgusted victim, 
 breathing execrations on the " wooden-headed 
 crowd," who couldn't see that a runaway 
 adventure of a bare-headed man, on a bare- 
 backed, bridleless horse was an accident, 
 finally agreed to go to the police-station 
 without a fuss, if somebody would lend him 
 a hat. 
 
 He knew that he could get help enough, 
 as soon as he could send a message to his 
 friends; but the whole affair, and the way 
 it came about, was so infinitely paltry and 
 ridiculous, and such a bad joke on himself, 
 that for some time he could not make up 
 his mind whom to apply to, or how. Finally, 
 failing, with all his remonstrances and expla- 
 nations, to get a release " on his own recog- 
 nizance/' he put a bold face on, and addressed 
 an appeal to Hardy at his boarding-club. It 
 came to hand just as the club wer leaving 
 Mrs. Hinnipick's door, and the whole com-
 
 196 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 pany were convulsed to hear Hardy read 
 out aloud, 
 
 " Help-meats to the rescue ! I am arrested 
 for horse-stealing. Come down with creden- 
 tials, and save me from the 'jug ' 1 
 
 "Police Station No. 10. PBOC." 
 
 The next instant eight hugely tickled 
 Sophomores were .rushing off in the direc- 
 tion of No. 10, to deliver their lost hero out 
 of the grasp of the " peelers." They arrived 
 on the scene in an incredibly short time, 
 and the presence of all the brass-buttoned 
 authority in the sergeant's office could not 
 check their loud laughter when they entered, 
 to see Proc, in a rakish jockey cap, stand- 
 ing before the desk, red and excited, hold- 
 ing an argument with old Jones, the restau- 
 rant-keeper! Old Jones had been puffing 
 around Jbr more than an hour, hunting for 
 the " shtudent that ordered a supper, an' eat
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 197 
 
 it, an' jumped out o' the winder without 
 pay in' his reckonin'." 
 
 This thirty-seven-cent persecution was a 
 trifle too much. "Look here, sir!" quoth 
 Proc, bristling with sublime indignation, " I 
 want to know what you've done with my 
 hat I It was last seen in your saloon & 
 new Panama worth five dollars, sir ! " 
 
 The look and attitude of the plucky little 
 fellow, firing off this speech, upset his class- 
 mates completely, and they greeted him with 
 staggering rounds of merriment ; and it was 
 not till the sergeant threatened to have them 
 " all arrested," that they could sober down 
 sufficiently to attend to business. Laughter 
 proved, however, the best thing under the 
 circumstances, for it operated as a general 
 eye-opener. Old Jones sneaked out with 
 his thirty-seven cents, and with the tables 
 turned on him by one customer whose pat- 
 ronage he would never have again. The
 
 198 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 "peelers" were now quite ready to lislen 
 to reason, and while Durkee, Sampson, and 
 McFarlane hurried away to recover Proc's 
 hat, and make everything right with the 
 stable-men, Hardy, Calvin, and the rest staid 
 by to answer for their friend and hear his 
 
 droll story thoroughly inquired into and es- 
 
 m 
 tablished. The arrival of McFarlane with the 
 
 hat, and of Durkee and Sampson with Holden 
 and his apologies, settled the case, and the 
 comedy of errors being all untangled, police- 
 men, students, and hostler separated with a 
 mutual haw, haw ! Meantime the news of 
 Proc's pony adventure had reached the ears 
 of the rest of the class. But when it flashed 
 ab,put that he had been arrested, and all the 
 circumstances of the affair were known, the 
 measure of fun was full, and Snickerby was 
 unanimously voted the most amusing fellow 
 in college.
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 199 
 
 Biennial Examination (abolished now), the 
 great trial af scholarship occurring every 
 other year, at which the whole course of two 
 years' studies waa reviewed, and written an- 
 swers were required to lists of questions on 
 them all, was the dreaded event of Sopho- 
 more and Senior life more especially of the 
 former ; and, as with all things dreaded, the 
 preparations for it were usually put off till 
 necessity enforced them. It was a habit 
 of the students, during the last " days of 
 grace " to assemble in squads in the rooms 
 of some of the- better scholars of the class, 
 and spend the night in cramming for the 
 great examination. 
 
 The more unprincipled of the poor scholars 
 of the class, too far behind to gain anything 
 by the stuffing process, made solitary prep- 
 aratio/is to steal their passage, or held secret 
 meetings among themselves to devise suc- 
 cessful ways of " skinning " (smuggling text-
 
 200 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 book leaves or stolen answers into the exam- 
 ination-room), and to invent new and inge- 
 nious tricks by which to " pony " themselves 
 through. 
 
 One of the cramming assemblies was to 
 meet in Hardy's room on the night follow- 
 ing Mr. Honorius Proctor's bare-back ride. 
 Hardy's interest in this was mainly one of 
 hospitality and friendly help, as his thorough 
 habits of study had left him in no special 
 need to " cram " on his own account. By 
 the hour of nine P. M. the company, including 
 all the "Help-meat Club" (except Proc, who 
 had locked himself up to escape an ovation) 
 and seven others, mostly belonging to Nick's 
 " division," had arrived with their piles of 
 text-books, and settled down to work. By 
 the enterprise of one of their number, a 
 swivel urn had been borrowed for the occa- 
 sion from a boarding-house near by, and this 
 being filled with strong tea, was set upon a
 
 PONYING FOR BIENNIAL. 201 
 
 table over a spirit lamp, to furnish exhilarat- 
 ing decoctions when needed, and fortify the 
 drowsy againat the invasions of Morpheus. 
 It was understood that no " liquor " should 
 be allowed. 
 
 Enter first the Mathematics, the rule be- 
 ing to " begin with the hardest," and with 
 much groaning and many maledictions, and 
 free and frequent drafts upon Hardy and Bart 
 Whately, the crammers wrestled through the 
 manual of logarithms, and the mysteries of 
 mantissas and " corrections." 
 
 " I'm an ass ! " burst out Bill Dickinson, 
 who had made a seven-headed and ten-horned 
 blunder that vastly entertained the whole 
 squad, (and Bill did manage before midnight 
 to prove himself what he said he was.) But 
 in the next breath he spoiled it all by adding, 
 " And Tutor Pondright 's another ; " which 
 reflection on the excellent instructor in math- 
 ematics wan of course promptly rebuked.
 
 202 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Tea was handed round; and then came 
 Conic Sections, next Mensuration, Trigonome- 
 try, and Geometry, and last of all Algebra, 
 the shrewder heads of the company indicat- 
 ing (by some privileged guess-work of their 
 own) the portions which the class were " most 
 likely to be called up on." 
 
 " O, Fve rnn my young head in a noose ! " 
 
 sung Bill Dickinson, getting tired and tune- 
 fill before the mathematics were half done. 
 He had been growing more tuneful than in- 
 tellectual ever since he came in. 
 
 "A Binomial Boot I am found, 
 
 Unequal, and never can pass: 
 Tutor Pondrisrht thinks me, 111 be bound, 
 A small geometrical ass, 
 
 And he's another." 
 
 But by this time every man had begun 
 to feel that cramming was work that required 
 a little amusement in it to make it healthy.
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 203 
 
 So when Bill struck up again, Charley Dur- 
 kee took the words out of his mouth, and 
 the whole crowd launched off to the tune 
 of Selkirk's Soliloquy," 
 
 "All my TRIANGLES now are obtuse, 
 
 And quite circumscribed are my SPHERES, 
 My COSINES are found of no use, 
 And my POLYGONS end all in tears. 
 
 " My TANGENTS fly off into space, 
 
 On my SOLIDS no mortal can sup, 
 My ZONES are a frigid disgrace, 
 And my CUBE ROOTS will never come up. 
 
 " When I run my young head in a noose, 
 
 Tis a HYPOTHENUSE, I declare, 
 And little can FRUSTUMS produce 
 In brains that of figures are bare." * 
 
 All this would have gone off smoothly 
 enough, if noisy Bill had not run away with 
 
 Mr. J. T. Fields will pardon the author the free and some* 
 what anachronistic use of his lines.
 
 204 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 himself, and finished up the song with a 
 whoop. There was no need to smell the 
 fellow's breath to perceive that his mathe- 
 matics for that night had stopped at the table 
 of wine-measure. A mug of hot tea was 
 poured down his throat, and every effort 
 made to get him quiet. But he would not 
 subside long. " Le's go out an' have another 
 Burial o' Euclid I " he shouted, when the last 
 problem had been marked, and the company 
 were ready to take up the classics. Hardy 
 told him there'd be a burial of Bill Dickinson 
 if he didn't stop his noise. Whereupon Bill 
 muttered that 'twas a good joke, and behaved 
 himself for ten minutes, paying attention to 
 Homer. At the end of that time lie was 
 detected paying attention to a pocket bran- 
 dy-flask. His companions began to think 
 they hafl humored him about long enough, 
 but tli3y went on translating picked passages 
 from Homer, and Xeuophon, and Thucydides,
 
 PONYING FOR BIENNIAL. 205 
 
 from Livy and Horace and Sallust, Bill only 
 interrupting with a grotesque remark now 
 and then, and making frantic attempts to con- 
 strue the words of his " pony" into the Greek 
 or Latin text. There were several " ponies " 
 in the crowd, for these English translations 
 could be lawfully used to smooth a literal ren- 
 dering, provided a fellow thoroughly knew his 
 grammar and his text first. Bill knew nei- 
 ther text, nor grammar, nor history. "Who's 
 this confounded Otho?" he bawled out in 
 the middle of the skirmish with Tacitus. His 
 stupidity served for a general laugh that 
 drove off drowsiness better than tea could do 
 it. If Bill had been reading the history of 
 the last French empire in Latin, he would 
 have wanted to know who "this confounded 
 Napoleon III." was. Presently he was caught 
 tipping his brandy-flask again, and being 
 peremptorily ordered to put it up, he became 
 more obstreperous and showed fight. Pa-
 
 206 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 tience had ceased to be a virtue. But they 
 bore with him, and made an attempt to cram 
 " Alcestis." At last, when Bill broke forth 
 on a Greek chorus, and persisted in singing 
 it to " Cocachelunk," the fellows resolved 
 themselves into a council of fourteen, and 
 sentenced him to be taken out and pumped 
 on. They seized him, and " blindfolding " 
 his mouth to stop his profanity, carried him, 
 despite his kicking, down stairs, and across 
 the yard, to the college pump. Then a dozen 
 stout hands held him fast with his head under 
 the spout, while others equally vigorous plied 
 the handle. 
 
 Of course matters had not been carried 
 thus far without considerable racket, which 
 was likely to be the more noticeable from 
 the fact that it was now half past eleven 
 o'clock in the night. Hardy and his party 
 had been expecting the hall officer to make 
 his appearance for the last hour, and now
 
 PONYING FOB BIENNIAL. 207 
 
 they did not care whether he came or not. 
 But Tutor Wilkes, wbo was the regulator 
 of their section, was either too wide awake 
 to misunderstand the cause of the noise, or 
 too sound asleep to hear it. The fuss around 
 the pump, and Bill Dickinson wiggling and 
 spluttering under his douche bath, attracted 
 some heads out of the old " barracks " win- 
 dows, but nobody interfered. The " execu- 
 tioners " did their work well ; and they were 
 about to trot -Bill off to his room and put 
 him to bed, when they caught sight of a 
 figure that they knew, and instantly a muf- 
 fled explosion shook the whole squad. Proc, 
 who never could keep the fence between 
 him and a scuffle, had overheard the stir in 
 the yard, and come dawn to see. Before 
 he fairly knew who ihe actors in the per- 
 formance were, seven or eight laughing and 
 excited classmates had surrounded him and 
 swept him off with them into North Central
 
 208 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 south hall. They had got him at last the 
 man to " ride the pony/' who " couldn't be 
 beat ; " and if time and place had been safe 
 they would have raised a regular war-whoop 
 round him. So, hurried to the stairway, and 
 borne upward in gusts of half-stifled mirth, 
 Proc rode (without saddle or bridle) to Har- 
 dy's room. 
 
 The rest of the company, having disposed of 
 sobered Bill, Boon returned, and it is easy to 
 say there was more fun and joking crammed 
 in the next fifteen minutes than Latin and 
 Greek. Proc's afternoon experience was an 
 inspiration of witticism and jest that left 
 Horace and Aristophanes nowhere ; and the 
 fellows actually quaked and reeled with the 
 laughter they dared not let out. 
 
 " Aha, Proc," quoth Nick at last, " wel- 
 come ! and a thousand thanks 1 We take off 
 our hats to the lesson you taught us to-day, 
 bare-headed and alone, a spur in the head
 
 PONYING FOR BIENNIAL. 209 
 
 is worth two in the heels. Now mount your 
 pony, and let's all start together." 
 
 The crammers stuck to their work till three 
 o'clock in the morning, and then disbanded. 
 
 "Now, Proc, honor bright," said Hardy 
 aside to him, as he was going, " what was 
 there in that ice- water you drank at old 
 Jones' ? " 
 
 " Well, Hardy, to be honest about it," whis- 
 pered Proc, " I did drink a glass of ale ; and 
 I'll be thrashed if I ever do it again ! n 
 
 And Proc never did 
 14
 
 210 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 If lineal virtues last, and if 
 Death hides lost greatness but in trust, 
 My sires who looked on yonder cliff 
 Preserve my promise in their dust." 
 
 O Nick Hardy wrote under one of the 
 trees of beautiful Collingwood, a large, 
 almost manorial, estate in the highlands of 
 New Harbor, through whose groves and 
 grounds meditative students loved to stroll 
 and rest. 
 
 It was a rare thing to find Hardy poet- 
 izing ; but " Biennial " was over, and having 
 been appointed Junior orator for " Statement 
 of Facts" next fall, he had wandered out 
 to Collingwood alone, on one of term-time's 
 easy remaining days, to begin the plan of his
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 211 
 
 speech for that occasion, and jot down some 
 early thoughts. Pausing on a shaded knoll, 
 from which a sweep of prospect opened to 
 the west, be had caught a distant sight of 
 Sea-gate Cliff, and before he was aware he 
 fell a-dreaming over what the old " countess " 
 had told him, and for the moment lost all 
 recollection of the errand that had called 
 him abroad. 
 
 The form of his Revolutionary ancestor, 
 Jeremiah Hardy, and the tattered Gartney 
 will, with the new-discovered name, perhaps, 
 of the stout old colonel among the heirs 
 the old Magraws, his grandmother's race and 
 kin the heirloom spoon and the Solomon 
 Hardee diamond he saw them all in phan- 
 tasm rise and pass before him, and seem to 
 beckon him out toward the sea. He thought 
 of the decline of his family name since 
 his great-grandfather's days, and the boy- 
 ambition which had often fired him to re-
 
 212 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 deem it shaped itself into romantic but 
 none the less manly purpose. There may 
 be point, and prophecy even, in the reveries 
 of a young fellow of downright, determined 
 nature like Nicholas Hardy and character 
 in his transient egotism. It was no violence 
 to his habit of solid thought that, under the 
 heroic stimulus of the moment, our brevet 
 Junior, with his mind just trained up to the 
 more philosophical studies of his college 
 course, fell to reflecting poetically on his 
 possible destiny, and scribbled the lines at 
 the head of the chapter ; nor that he added 
 immediately after 
 
 "I dare not scorn the sign, nor slight 
 
 The hour when wakes the ancient pride 
 That hints to me my star may light 
 Our darken'd fortune's turn of tide." 
 
 How long his dreamy mood would have 
 lasted is uncertain, had not the glimpse of 
 an approaching figure diverted him. Quietly
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 213 
 
 pocketing his pencil and paper, he smiled at 
 himself to find how strongly the " ancestral 
 spell " was getting hold of him, and was 
 about rising to his feet to move away. He 
 glanced again at the figure coming nearer; 
 he knew it well enough, for it was the figure 
 of a classmate. He sat still and watched the 
 young man. The young man was thinking 
 too perhaps thinking about his ancestors, 
 though in a different way, and for a different 
 reason. It was Bill Dickinson. Biennial had 
 been too much for Bill, and he was looking 
 terribly gloomy. It was known now that he 
 had been dropped, and there were some 
 who had sympathy for him. Poor Bill had 
 never in all his life needed sympathy so much 
 as now. He felt that he had no one to blame 
 but himself for his failure and its conse- 
 quences : and to, have come to that feeling 
 was a great deal for Bill Dickinson. He had 
 gone " down hill " with fearful rapidity since
 
 214 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he came to college. When he entered h* 
 was a correct young man, conscientious in 
 study, and faithful to moral and even re- 
 ligious duty. But gradual intimacy with a 
 few fellows of the wilder sort corrupted his 
 innocence, and his " freshman " proprieties 
 were all laughed out of him. His Sopho- 
 more history had been a history of increasing 
 neglect, dissipation, and moral decline, with 
 his " matriculation " in hopeless suspense, 
 and his "marks" always hovering among 
 the forties, till Biennial finally stranded him. 
 The forlorn agony of his first knowledge 
 of his loss had made him thoroughly sober. 
 To realize that he was actually left otti of 
 his class, with no more right to call himself 
 a member, was something indescribably ter- 
 rible. Depressed and remorseful, brooding 
 over the disgrace to himself and his friends 
 at home, he had wandered out to Collingwood 
 Grove alone.
 
 NICE HAS LONGINGS. 215 
 
 Hillo, Dick ! " 
 
 "Hillo, Nick!" 
 
 The response was merely a mechanical 
 echo on Bill Dickinson's part, for he was 
 startled. He had not seen Hardy under the 
 tree. There was no swagger, none of the 
 old rollicking tone in his voice now ; it 
 sounded faint, far-off, and half sullen. Nick 
 felt heartily sorry for him. 
 
 " Come here and sit down, and keep a 
 fellow company." 
 
 Bill turned and looked him full in the face. 
 
 "Do you mean it?" 
 
 " Certissime, Dick ! " 
 
 Bill approached the tree, and silently 
 stretched himself on the green sward under 
 the shade. 
 
 " There, in gramine reges" quoth Hardy, 
 " there's no reason why it shouldn't do us 
 both good to go to grass." 
 
 Bill glanced at him sidelong. Surely
 
 216 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Hardy was the last man to be sarcastic 
 over a classmate's misfortune. They lay a 
 few minutes, prattling trifles like tired boys. 
 Nick knew that Bill Dickinson was not 
 entirely bad. Wrong associations, repeated 
 moral surrenders, and all his later weak 
 excesses, had not quite annihilated the 
 nobleness that was in him. There was a 
 trace of manly character even in the way 
 he had faced his examination, the very 
 ordeal that cost him his college stand- 
 ing. Reckless as he was, he took no in- 
 terest in cheating, and he had made no 
 attempt to " skin " his way through Biennial, 
 as some luckier but meaner men had done. 
 He had met his fate fairly at least, and 
 if in this some of his recklessness played 
 a part, it did not prevent him from suffer- 
 ing keenly now. 
 
 " Dick, I know what you are thinking of," 
 said Hardy at length. " I won't ask you what
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 217 
 
 you are going to do, but I'll tell you what 
 you can do, and what 1 should do if I 
 were in your place. I'd study up in vaca- 
 tion, enter Junior (fresh Junior if you like), 
 and graduate with an oration ! " 
 
 Dickinson made no reply for a minute. 
 Then he spoke with bitter emphasis, rising 
 on his elbow and looking desperately at his 
 classmate. 
 
 "Nick Hardy, I've made an ass of myself !" 
 
 " So you've said before," answered Hardy. 
 " Many a young fellow makes an ass of 
 himself; that's no reason he should stay 
 one. Even Bottom the weaver waked up all 
 right. You've had your dream. Now it's 
 ' Methought I was, and methought I had,' 
 and say there's an end of it. Here are 
 two years to retrieve two. Tike your 
 square chance, and, my word for it, you can 
 give odds to Appointment-day." 
 
 " Impossible. There's four years instead 
 of two all gone to perdition."
 
 218 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Granted, if you stop where you are, and 
 give it up. What's- your idea of the im- 
 possible, Dick ? " 
 
 "A fool's redemption." 
 
 " Honest now, Dick ; honest and philo- 
 sophical ; doesn't a man cease to be a fool 
 when he owns up to being one?" 
 
 Bill said nothing. He sat nervously biting 
 a twig, and spitting out the bark. 
 
 " Silence answers yes," resumed Hardy. 
 " Then you are not a fool, and you are not 
 past redemption. I tell you, Dick, I begin 
 to think this redeeming business pays. I 
 mean to do more of it in time to come. 
 I believe it's about half life's work with 
 the best of us." 
 
 Hardy's voice softened as he said these 
 words. Bill had thrown down the twig, 
 and pulled out his pocket-handkerchief. For 
 some time neither of the young men 
 spoke.
 
 NICE HAS LONGINGS. 219 
 
 " If all this," said Dickinson, breaking 
 silence first, " if all this could be kept 
 from my mother, I believe I could " and 
 there his words stuck in his throat. 
 
 " God bless you, Dick ! " said Hardy. 
 " Never you worry for that. It will cost 
 pain, but your unwritten history is safe with 
 your mother ; and now for her very sake 
 be a man, and live down the old days." 
 
 Bill sat with his face buried in his hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 " Come back to college, Dick. Come back 
 with a resolution as high as heaven. Here 
 is the best place to straighten out these 
 obliquities. Begin new, and this time go in 
 for culture on the uniform plan, intellectual, 
 moral, and spiritual. Don't forget old Ionic 
 Hall, second-story class-room, Friday night, 
 Dick. Plant yourself on your privileges ; 
 fear God more than you do ridicule ; sign the 
 pledge ; take temptation by the throat, and
 
 220 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 beat the devil on his own ground. There's 
 a lot of us here will lend you a hand, and 
 stand by you. If you don't come out master 
 at that, then truth isn't truth." 
 
 Poor Dickinson's pride had been reached 
 before ; his conscience was touched now. 
 He was back once more among his first 
 Freshman days, and his tears of contrition 
 ran down like rain. 
 
 " Good-bye, Hardy," he said after a pause, 
 rising to go. " It hasn't done me any hurt 
 to go over all this with a friend. Good-bye, 
 and thank you. I leave for home to-night ; " 
 and he gave his hand. 
 
 " Good-bye, and remember ! " said Hardy 
 warmly, grasping the offered hand with both 
 his own ; " come back, and ' All's well that 
 ends well.' " 
 
 And as the two went their different ways, 
 Hardy thought it quite possible that he had 
 seen the last of jovial, bright, weak, unlucky 
 Bill Dickinson.
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 221 
 
 Hardy did not write any more poetry that 
 day. But he "lay off" at Collingwood, con- 
 ceiving the framework of his September 
 oration, until it was time to go to dinner. 
 On his way back, the subject that had in- 
 terested him so unusually in the morning 
 returned upon his mind, and though it did 
 not again set him dreaming, he resolved 
 that "for the fun of the thing" he would 
 visit Sea-gate Cliff, and do it that very 
 afternoon. His first idea was to get all or 
 several of his boat-club together, and organize 
 an excursion thither in the " Thetis " across 
 the bay ; but he recollected that his navy 
 shirt was undergoing repair at the tailor's, 
 and as he could not think of going out to 
 row without his uniform, he was obliged to 
 decide on making the trip by land. He laid 
 hie plan before the fellows at dinner, and 
 invited the whole club to go with him. Proc 
 must be one at any rate. No ; Proc and five
 
 222 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 others had agreed to go up Euclid Lane to 
 Terryfield to play base-ball. Whately and 
 Fay Lewis had no engagement, but they 
 were suspected of nursing an ambition for 
 the Brunei Scholarship (a year ahead), and 
 a design to spend the afternoon " reading up." 
 Finally Matt Calvin, whose love for base-ball 
 was not enthusiastic, struck a bargain with 
 Lewis to report in Terryfield as his sub- 
 stitute, and upon that Hobart Whately told 
 Nick to count him in too. So a party of 
 three from the " Help-meats " was made up 
 for the tramp to the cliff. Hardy, Whately, 
 and Calvin were usually inseparable in their 
 pedestrian excursions and holiday strolls. 
 They started at half-past one, setting their 
 faces country- ward. As Savin Street lay in 
 their route, Nick, remembering Miss Tabitha 
 Magraw's promise to give him certain direc- 
 tions, foresaw a possible discovery on the 
 part of his friends, and laughed inwardly
 
 NICE HAS LONGINGS. 223 
 
 to think of their recognizing " the countess " 
 at No. 209, and renewing their pleasantries 
 over his old adventure. If they should see 
 Miss Margaret, and But he would not* 
 be responsible for anything else they might 
 find out. He should call for Miss Margaret's 
 aunt at all events, at the door. He did not 
 intend to go in. Judge of his amusement 
 when, on coming in sight of the Magraw 
 house, he spied the fair Margaret herself 
 seated on the porch, and, lounging roman- 
 tically near her, the inevitable Sidney 1 Bart 
 Whately opened his eyes wide, and his mouth 
 wider, and then crammed his handkerchief 
 into it. Calvin anxiously inquired for a 
 " tub of soap " to put his head in. There 
 was no dodging the secret now ; it had been 
 flung directly in their faces. They stopped 
 under the trees at the gate, and stood in 
 agonies of self-restraint while Hardy marched 
 into the yard. Plainly, a general introduction
 
 224 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 was the only thing that would make matters 
 easy, and Sidney must manage it, which he 
 did with a great deal of sprawling politeness. 
 Calvin and Bart contrived to impose proper 
 sobriety upon themselves by becoming vehe- 
 mently interested in Miss Margaret; and 
 Hardy was forced to take his errand into 
 the parlor. Miss Tabitha with great minute- 
 ness and painstaking described to him the 
 cave in the cliff, and informed him where 
 and how he could find his ancestor's name. 
 She evidently had much more to say, but 
 saw that Hardy's necessary haste gave her 
 no opportunity, and begging him to call again 
 soon, she followed him into the yard, where, 
 of course, he was obliged to present her 
 to his two friends. The effect was precisely 
 what he expected, and the affair on Linden 
 Street, a year ago, was immediately recalled 
 with mutual laughter. Miss Tabitba invited 
 them to sing " Upidee " again, and promised
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 225 
 
 not to get frightened and run away ; but 
 the three young men excused themselves 
 on the plea that Charley Durkee was not 
 with them, and took their leave with com- 
 pliments. 
 
 " I have got track of the Hanfords," Misa 
 Tabitha said in a low tone to Hardy, as he 
 passed out of the gate behind his companions. 
 "There is a family in Colebridge. I shall 
 write." 
 
 Calvin and Whately were in a ferment 
 of fun and curiosity, and Nick had to explain 
 at once, " on pain of being reported to the 
 Faculty," all the complicities of the No. 209 
 riddle, the relationship of the fair Margaret 
 at the Magraw house, and the coincidence 
 involving spoony young Hinnipick. 
 
 He sketched off the history of the situation 
 in high colors, his friends punctuating his 
 speech with interjections and explosive re- 
 marks. 
 
 15
 
 226 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Zounds, Nick 1 " quoth Whately, when he 
 paused for breath, " didn't know you was 
 taking us out here to give us such an 
 apocalypse. The shock almost made my 
 teeth loose." 
 
 11 Look here, old fellow," said Calvin, " the 
 worthy countess yonder seems to regard you 
 with a certain maternal interest, and evi- 
 dently you're at home in her castle. Satisfy 
 us whether you're an earl in disguise, and 
 we'll show you proper respect." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " said Nick, gravely, " Lady 
 Magraw is my fortieth great-aunt, cousin to 
 my grandfather's first wife on his mother's 
 eido. She owns six millions an^ a sheep 
 farm, and she's going to leave me the money 
 and Sid the land." 
 
 " Good 1 " chuckled Bart ; " then Sid will 
 settle down where his mother can find 
 him." 
 
 "Ah, Nick, Nick!" said Calvin, striking
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 227 
 
 an attitude as he walked, "I tremble fpr 
 you. It's not every day/' he continued, with 
 comic dignity, " that a fellow has tremendous 
 good fortune tumbled upon him by a run- 
 away horse. 
 
 ' Small are the seeds fate doth unheeded sow 
 Of slight beginnings to important ends.' 
 
 Hold on to yourself with your great expec- 
 tations, and go slow. 
 
 'This cause which your ambition fills 
 Is one in which your strength you should not waste 
 Like the vain giants who did heave at hills. 
 Tis too unwieldy for the force of haste.'" 
 
 And there the banter had an end (without 
 Calvin's half knowing how apt his quotation 
 was), for they had passed out to Crampton 
 Meadows, and caught sight of Barkenhead 
 and Tolman rambling about, and amusing 
 themselves with looking through a field*
 
 228 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Ho, fellows 1 Going to the cliff? " 
 
 " Yes ; come on." 
 
 Hardy and his party considered them- 
 selves in luck to get the loan of a telescope 
 so easily. It would add much to the charm 
 of the grand out-look from the top of Sea- 
 gate Cliff. 
 
 "There's a picnic up there," said Tol- 
 man. 
 
 "Is there? Let's seel" 
 
 And they looked one by one through 
 the glass at the beetling rock, now only 
 two miles away, while Tolman directed them 
 where to point the tube. 
 
 " So there is, sure enough. Well, the more 
 the merrier.'' 
 
 And the five classmates walked on. Pass- 
 ing through a belt of greenwood, Hardy 
 picked up several dry pine cones. 
 
 " Pining already ! " rallied Calvin. " If 
 you've come to that ' pitch ' BO soon, those
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 229 
 
 picnic girls must have turpentwined you 
 at long range." 
 
 " No," said Nick ; " I'm going to burn 
 i conic sections ' for your benefit." 
 
 And Barkenhead, who had hated and 
 flunked conic sections faithfully to the last, 
 said he would help him. 
 
 They reached the cliff, climbed up by the 
 north pathway through shrubbery and trees, 
 and stood on the wildest part of its summit. 
 Looking at their watches, they found that 
 they had a good two hours to spare. Half 
 an hour of that time they spent lying on 
 the rocks and looking off, and taking turns 
 with the telescope. They had not been long 
 enough in college to acquire a very scholarly 
 interest in geology, or paleology, but there 
 was not one of them, not even Matt Calvin, 
 who could not lay aside his joking long 
 enough to give a reverent thought to the 
 brown old Devonian masonry of the huge
 
 230 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 crags around them, piled there undated ages 
 ago, and even to the strange marks on their 
 stony faces, and to the wonderful pebbles 
 wrought and polished before there was any 
 reckoning of days and years. 
 
 " Antiquity I " muttered Hardy, musing 
 over a piece of stone in his hand with a 
 print on it like a fish's tail. " Talk of thai 
 alongside of things as old as these ! 
 
 'O passing Time! O timeless Past I 
 As dewdrop to the ocean vast, 
 So shrinks on Nature's ancient page 
 The story of man'* puny age.' " 
 
 " That's so," echoed all the rest ; and a few 
 minutes afterwards they looked round for him 
 and could not find him. 
 
 The infinitely old rocks of Sea- gate Cliff 
 had not put Hardy so entirely out of conceit 
 with antiquity that he could forego his 
 visit to the soldier's cave. Following the 
 landmarks described to him, he made his
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 231 
 
 way to the place and crawled inside. Then 
 striking a match, he lit one of the pine cones 
 and explored the roof at the part where 
 he had been told he would find Jeremiah 
 Hardy's name. The search tried his patience 
 a little, for the smoke of his torch would blur 
 everything if held too near, but at length 
 his eye caught a tracing on the stone that 
 nature had not made. Pursuing this with 
 eager care, he succeeded in spelling out the 
 letters " J-e-r-e-m-i-a-h H-a-r-d-i-e." It was 
 a rude scrawl, but he could read it, and the 
 name of his stanch old patriot ancestor, 
 scratched there with his bayonet on the 
 rocky ceiling, for the moment thrilled him 
 like a living face, and put him en rapport 
 with the brave spirit so long passed away. 
 Holding high the smoky cone, he moved it 
 around the dim autograph, leaving a black 
 line to mark more distinctly where it was, 
 and hurried out of the cave to find his
 
 232 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 friends. On his way he spied something 
 white, lying partly under a stone as if the 
 wind had blown it there. He picked it up. 
 It was a pretty, lace-edged, lady's handker- 
 chief. The mark on it was " E. T. Lincoln." 
 Hastily concluding that some member of the 
 picnic party had dropped it, he put it in his 
 pocket, and returned to the spot where he 
 had left his classmates. They were not 
 there, and he thought if he went at once 
 to restore the handkerchief he might over- 
 take them headed in the same direction. 
 Presently in his wanderings he stumbled 
 upon a rustic group, a detachment from 
 the main party, under an old oak-tree, and 
 saw Tolman talking with one of the ladies. 
 It was a lady with whom Tolman happened 
 to be acquainted, and she had introduced him 
 to her male and female friends. * 
 
 " I thought this might belong to some one 
 of your company," said- Hardy, bowing and
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 233 
 
 handing the handkerchief to the oldest of 
 the gentlemen. But no one recognized it. 
 
 " There is no lady in our company named 
 Lincoln," said the gentleman ; and Hardy, 
 returning the handkerchief to his pocket, 
 was presented by Tolrnan to his new friends, 
 chatted a few minutes, and withdrew to join 
 the other Sophomores who were at the 
 bowling-alley in the grove farther down the 
 hill. He remained with them at the alley 
 for some time playing at ten-pins, and making 
 several new acquaintances, and it was not 
 till all had gone out for another stroll in 
 the grove that Tolman came, and they 
 discovered that they had overstayed their 
 time. 
 
 " How many can afford marks to-night, and 
 stay here another hour ? " asked Nick. 
 
 Nobody could unless it was himself. Their 
 marks were too numerous already. 
 . " Twenty minutes and a half between us
 
 234 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and chapel prayers 1 It's oysters for the 
 crowd that we don't get there," said Tol- 
 man. 
 
 " Oysters for the crowd that we do I " 
 shouted Barkenhead. " Now start your- 
 selves ! " 
 
 And down the hill at a tearing pace the five 
 fellows went to the main road. For the first 
 mile Barkenhead 's legs took a long lead. 
 It was astonishing to see what strides he 
 made. Then Hardy, who spared his breath 
 while the rest laughed, began to close up 
 the distance. At the end of the second mile 
 he was within three yards of the leader. 
 Half a mile more and he could take his 
 tracks. The sound of the chapel-bell quick- 
 ened the hindmost to a nervous spurt. 
 Barkenhead began to run ; and all the rest 
 were running. At the end of the third mile 
 Hardy was with him neck and neck. The 
 bell had done ringing and began if) toll
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 235 
 
 before they fairly left Crampton Meadows. 
 They took the shortest way they knew ; up 
 Vineyard Street, through Cabbage Alley to 
 St. John, down St. John to Walnut, pelting 
 the road like quarter-horses. Barkenhead 
 pulled off his coat. Tolman had caught up 
 with him, and Hardy was leading. They did 
 the fourth mile in incredible time. Across 
 Bower Street, across Train, into Silloway, 
 and straight for the colleges. Ding-dong, 
 tolled the bell. Only three were running 
 now. Calvin and Bart Whately had given 
 it up. Past the corner of Oak and Wil- 
 low with a rush ; past Cherry corner panting 
 and smoking. Ding-dong, tolled the bell. 
 Traverse Street was just ahead. Poor Bark- 
 enhead flagged, entirely wind-broken, his as- 
 tonishing legs going alone. The bell stopped, 
 with Hardy and Tolman racing through the 
 coal-yard, and Barkenhead in the rear sitting 
 on a curb-stone. His narrow chest had col-
 
 236 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 lapsed him. And not even Tolman's treat to 
 " the crowd " the next day (he and Hard j 
 were the only ones who saved their marks) 
 s conld console the mortified fellow for the 
 defeat his legs -had suffered. 
 
 That evening at Mrs. Hinnipick's there 
 were at least three boarders who ached to 
 hear her ask, " Have you seen Sidney ? " 
 The interesting youngster was missing at 
 tea, as he had been at dinner. But the 
 good lady made no inquiries. She probably 
 knew where he was as well as they did. 
 Calvin and Whately requited themselves, 
 however, for their loss of that evening's fun 
 by setting the rest of the club raving about 
 the Savin Street charmer ; and when, finally, 
 they all came to eat their last Sophomore 
 dinner and settle their bills, and found Sidney 
 just being welcomed home with open arms 
 after a two days' absence, there was an
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 237 
 
 outburst of choral comedy and sentimental 
 squibs that must have made fair Margaret 
 Granger's ears tingle two miles off. Poor 
 Sidney got more jokes at his head than there 
 were plums in his pudding, and his happy 
 and congratulating friends at that dinner 
 came much nearer splitting their sides with 
 laughter than with roast-beef. Nor could he 
 forgive himself for getting back just in time 
 to be treacled and gushed over with, " Adieu, 
 my loving Sidney 1 " " Fare thee well, and 
 if forever." " the agony of it I It wrings 
 my heart out to leave thee ! " " You know 
 how it is yourself parting is such sweet 
 sorrow ! " and to be fusiladed with rhymes 
 to a musical pot-pourri of "Excelsior/ and 
 '* Pop goes the weasel." 
 
 "Now, Peggy dear, be kinder kind! 
 If you can't say you'll marry, find 
 A pen and ink, and write your mind 
 To your poor Hinnipiga.
 
 238 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 I must be spliced this very year, 
 And if I can't have you O dew, 
 111 have an icehouse buildcd here, 
 
 Cold aa the Golf of Riga, 
 And weep icicles all the year, 
 And write on every frozen tear, 
 
 P-e-g Peg, g-y gy." 
 
 Hardy called on Miss Tabitba Magraw 
 again, according to her request, before he 
 left New Harbor for his vacation. She had 
 found the broken old escritoir, and brought 
 it home. She showed it to him, and the relic 
 interested him greatly. But when she told 
 him that an inner panel (which she desig- 
 nated with her finger) had been discovered 
 by herself, concealing older papers than any 
 yet found, and said that she would not show 
 these papers to any one, not even to him, he 
 could not help wishing that she had kept the 
 whole secret. 
 
 While on his way home in the cars Nick's 
 hand came in contact with the pretty lace
 
 NICK HAS LONGINGS. 239 
 
 handkerchief marked " E. T. Lincoln " in the 
 pocket of his duster, where it had lain since 
 his tramp to Sea-gate Cliff. He drew it out, 
 and this time the sight of the name stirred 
 a little throb of memory. He tried to think 
 if the initials of a certain saucy schoolmate 
 of Fenwick-days were not "E. T.*'
 
 240 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN WHICH NICE INVESTIGATES. 
 
 There is a proud modesty in merit; 
 Averse from asking, and resolved to p*y 
 Ten times the gifts it asks. DBTDEN. 
 
 TT was somewhat to his surprise, and just 
 a trifle to his vexation, that our young 
 student heard himself congratulated by his 
 old friends in Stouefield and at the " Falls " 
 as an " heir to a great estate." He certainly 
 had counted on no such inheritance not 
 yet. The piecing of a marred sentence in 
 the old patched will, so as to make one 
 " Jeremiah Hardie " the devisee of certain 
 property, had seemed to him rather an inge- 
 nious and shadowy suggestion than a genu- 
 ine discQvery, and he was unable to see how
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 241 
 
 a bequest of a few thousand dollars to 
 "Nancy Lyman," bis grandmother's mother, 
 could, under the circumstances, ever make 
 him very rich. But it was vain for him to 
 protest or try to explain. The rumor had 
 got about, and his supposed good fortune was 
 the gossip of the day with the simple farm- 
 ing folk who had little else to talk or think 
 of. Uncle Ben James and Aunt Hepsy, 
 who could estimate greatness by dollars and 
 cents better than by scholarship, had a sud- 
 den access of vanity over their boy Nick that 
 was quite as amusing as amazing; and all 
 Stonefield, from Mr. Sunderland the minister, 
 and his family, to poor Comfort Grant the 
 black shoemaker, greeted him with an extra 
 smile and a redoubled shake of hands. At 
 the Falls he was noticed with even greater 
 effusion. His poor, ignorant parents and rel- 
 atives were ridiculously excited over the 
 story of the " great inheritance." They had 
 16
 
 242 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 even figured out (of their imagination) to a 
 cent the amount of money that was to fall to 
 them, all and several, and they informed 
 Nick (a piece of news worth coming home 
 for certainly) that " there was a hundred and 
 Jifty tlumsand dollars comin* to the Hardys, 
 honest and sure, and your father 'n mother '11 
 have forty thousand, and the children ten 
 thousand apiece 1 " 
 
 Nick shook himself with merriment when 
 he heard this, and told them that their cal- 
 culations did as much credit to their sense 
 as to their arithmetic. But they could not 
 understand his sarcasm any more than they 
 could share his incredulity. His brother 
 Jerry expected to be a dashing New York 
 buck, and drive a fast horse in Jerome Park ; 
 and Abe, who was less ambitious, proposed 
 to buy a share in the big Tinsley MilL The 
 sisters (married and unmarried), Sue, Phoebe, 
 Annette, and Sally, all but Jane, had
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 243 
 
 been put in such a flutter by their brilliant 
 hopes that they were making downright fools 
 of themselves, and were in danger of run- 
 ning head and ears over in debt for rib- 
 bons and plated jewelry. The parents, poor. 
 Saul Hardy and his wife, had no more idea 
 what they should do with their money than 
 babes unborn, but they were as much elated 
 as the rest with the prospect of their for- 
 tune. As for Silas, he was not there to share 
 in the grand expectations, and nobody knew 
 where he was. Nick laughed, and scolded, 
 and argued, and deprecated. To think that 
 the pulling down of the old Hanford house 
 in North Timlow should have raised such 
 a dust ! But it was not till he had traced 
 the golden rumor, and showed how pitifully 
 slender a foundation there was for the story 
 of the Hardys' inheritance, that he could 
 induce them to abate a little their wild hopes 
 of wealth. With Jane he had an easier
 
 244 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 tauk, for culture had made her reasonable 
 and intelligent. He would not positively tell 
 them that there was nothing, but taking his 
 cue from Squire Gammel, whom he visited 
 and consulted, he proved that, however much 
 money might be involved in the Hardy claim 
 in the Gartney will suit, it was all in the 
 wind as yet, and when the grand " windfall " 
 would happen (if it ever did) no living man 
 could possibly foretell. They did not thank 
 him much for dampening their ardent aspi- 
 rations, but at least his words had the effect 
 to make them stop talking about them. 
 
 During most of the summer, any one look- 
 ing for our friend Nicholas might have found 
 him in Fenwick, at Squire Gammel's office. 
 A few days he spent on the farm, helping 
 Uncle Ben; but he needed money, and as 
 the squire was ready and anxious to employ 
 him at office work, on excellent wages, he 
 made hia headquarters with him. No better
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 245 
 
 opportunity could have been offered the young 
 student to familiarize himself with the terms 
 and the actual routine of the business which 
 he expected one day to engage in himself, 
 or, what was perhaps of less importance, to 
 learn just how far, if at all, he and his rela- 
 tions were concerned in the bequests of the 
 old Gartney parchment, whose interpretation 
 had now come to be the most exacting work 
 in the busy squire's hands. Personal inspec 
 tion of the replaced fragments on that puz- 
 zling document did not perfectly assure Nich 
 olas that Miss Tabitha Magraw's reading was 
 right, and that Jeremiah Hardy's name really 
 belonged there ; but the squire, who had 
 been impressed with the ingenuity of hei 
 theory, said that the result of all researches 
 thus far tended to make it probable. The 
 explanation was apt and striking ; but whe- 
 ther sufficiently so to carry the force of proof 
 remained to be seen. When Nicholas told
 
 246 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 him that the name written in the Cliff Cave 
 at New Harbor had the same termination 
 as the supposed name in the will, he replied 
 that this fact might .prove to be a " lucky 
 straw in the scale." When, at another time, 
 Nicholas produced the bowl of the so-called 
 Solomon Hardee spoon (which he had brought 
 with him but shown to no one else), and re- 
 lated how he came by it, the squire laughed, 
 and said that was certainly something tan- 
 gible ; but he added more seriously that from 
 the appearance of Miss Tabitha Magraw, who 
 had visited him when on her quest after the 
 old cabinet, he believed her to be a woman 
 whose opinion was entitled to respect. Her 
 singularly strong conviction as to the right- 
 ful ownership of the old escritoir was based 
 on family tradition, and would be* testimony, 
 at least where there was no direct record 
 to rebut it. The old cabinet and the old 
 spoon-bowl were palpable things, and had a
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 247 
 
 history. He must see if these " wooden 
 facts " could not be made links in evidence. 
 The task would be to fit them in the chain 
 in their right places. 
 
 "And I beg you to take notice," added 
 the squire again, smiling, " as I warned Miss 
 Magraw when she got possession of the 
 cabinet, I lay this ancient spoon-bowl 
 under bonds to appear in court when called 
 for." 
 
 Naturally, the name of old Dr. Norcross 
 was often mentioned, and always with re- 
 spect. His assistance in the will case had 
 well earned the squire's gratitude, and the 
 more so since he did the work for the love 
 of it, and would take no pay. 
 
 " If he were not a rich man, as I under- 
 stand he is," said the squire, " I could never 
 feel free to apply to him again. But his 
 life is among old records and mysteries of 
 traditional lore, and when any one call? on
 
 248 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 him for a curious fact, or a forgotten name 
 he hunts it up with as much pleasure as if 
 he were receiving a favor instead of giving 
 one. You did me a real service in this busi- 
 ness, Hardy, when you put me in communi- 
 cation with Dr. Norcross." 
 
 Some question had arisen as to the authen- 
 ticity of the witnesses to the old will, and 
 to trace and identify these, the help of a 
 practised antiquary would save the lawyer 
 much time and trouble. Squire Gammel 
 determined to send Nicholas to Hightown 
 to talk with the old doctor, and see if he 
 could tell who " Isaiah Marley " and " John 
 Burdett " were. By this time the inquiring 
 spirit of our hero had become so far engaged 
 in these ancient matters that he was pre- 
 pared to undertake the journey with pleas- 
 ure, and to listen with patience to any amount 
 of family history or grandasval learning that 
 his old friend the doctor might choose to
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 249 
 
 inflict upon him. In fact, the nature of his 
 errand made it quite in the way of business 
 to do so; and he now actually had a piece 
 of the " wooden spoon " to show. He rode 
 to Hightown, and was received by the doctor 
 with an eager welcome, and a free tender 
 of all the information he possessed touching 
 the matter in hand. But when Nicholas took 
 out the old spoon-bowl, and mentioned Miss 
 Tabitha Magraw, and her account of it, the 
 old man's enthusiasm was overwhelming. He 
 handled and inspected the relic with loving 
 fingers and glowing eyes, and for a long time 
 could talk of nothing else. 
 
 "Ah! didn't I tell you so, Hardy?" he 
 exclaimed exultingly. " And I'll tell you 
 more, and don't you forget it," he went on ; 
 "the other half of this sacred keepsake 
 the part with a fortune in it is somewher* 
 in existence yet. Hold on to this, my favored 
 friend, as a talisman. It will bring you luck.
 
 250 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 It is your iDdenture bond to the service of 
 your race." 
 
 Returning to Fenwick from his conference 
 with the imaginative but shrewd old doctor, 
 Nicholas was able to report to Squire Gam- 
 mel that a descendant of " Isaiah Marley " 
 lived in Colebridge City, and the squire 
 immediately proposed that his young friend 
 should go there and " interview " the person. 
 This suited Nicholas exactly, for travelling 
 was a luxury which his means would not 
 let him indulge in very often, and to be able 
 thus to take his work and his needed recre- 
 ation together was clear gain. Vacation was 
 drawing near its close when he was ready 
 to go, and it was arranged that he should 
 return to college directly from Colebridge, 
 and send the result of his inquiries to the 
 squire in writing. Preferring the water route 
 to the shorter but dusty railway, he took 
 passage at Fenmouth in one of the small
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 251 
 
 coast- steamers that ran up the river from 
 Fairport, and embarked on a golden morn- 
 ing late in August, prepared for six hours 
 of leisure and cool enjoyment. He saw none 
 among his fellow-passengers whom he knew, 
 or who he had any reason to suppose knew 
 .him, but presently, while he sat aft in a 
 camp-chair on the saloon-deck, gazing out 
 over the sea, a well-dressed, sharp-eyed man 
 began to watch him, as if he had either 
 seen him somewhere, or meant to mark him 
 for future reference. It was a long time 
 before Nick noticed him walking to and fro, 
 or standing with others at the taffrail ; but 
 when he discovered that he was looking at 
 himself rather attentively and frequently, he 
 of course wondered what he wanted. His 
 momentary suspicions of ill design vanished, 
 however, on observing that he appeared to 
 be a friend of the captain of the boat, and 
 being accosted shortly after by the stranger
 
 252 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 in a manner very different from the style of 
 " confidence operators," and genteel black- 
 legs. 
 
 " I see by the ticket in your hat, sir, that 
 you are goitfg to Colebridge," said he. Nich- 
 olas replied that such was his intention. " I 
 live in Colebridge," continued the stranger, 
 " but unexpectedly I am obliged to delay my 
 return home for several days, and shall leave 
 the boat at Nohannic. Will you do me the 
 favor to carry a letter to my wife?" 
 
 Nick could do no less than signify his 
 willingness to oblige him, if he would tell 
 him where to find his residence ; and the 
 man thanked him, and went down into the 
 cabin to write his letter. He soon returned 
 with it sealed and directed, and handing it 
 to Nick, said, 
 
 " There are fifty dollars in this letter, and 
 I am anxious that my wife should get it to- 
 day. My name is Mulford, as you will infer
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 253 
 
 from the address. I hope No. 14 Henry 
 Street will not take you too far out of your 
 way." 
 
 "But," said Nicholas, "you do not know 
 who I am. How can you trust me with 
 money ? I promise to do your errand, 
 but " 
 
 " It is immaterial to me who you are," in- 
 terrupted the stranger, smiling. "I think I 
 know what you are. I am older than you, 
 and have learned how to read men." And 
 bidding him a pleasant " good-day," he im- 
 mediately went below, for the boat was now 
 very near Nohannic landing. 
 
 Nick had intended to ask the stranger 
 from Colebridge some questions about the 
 descendant of " Isaiah Marley," for though 
 he had the name, he did not yet know the 
 street and number where the person lived 
 whom he was expected to find. He was 
 obliged to wait, however ; and waiting was
 
 254 "THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 easy (after passing Fairport), in sight of the 
 shore scenery of the beautiful river on whose 
 bosom he was borne along -to his journey's 
 end. 
 
 He arrived in Colebridge at two o'clock, 
 and at once inquired his way to Henry 
 Street. Before going there it occurred to 
 him to consult a directory. If he should find 
 that he could locate all his errands on one 
 route, he would avoid going over unneces- 
 sary ground. Having copied the- name and 
 number of Simon Gaines, he looked for 
 " Hanford ; " for Miss Tabitha Magraw, who 
 had promised to trace this family, had made 
 no satisfactory report as yet, and Squire 
 Gammel, feeling impatient, had requested 
 Nicholas to see to it. He was astonished 
 to discover that the only " Hanford " in the 
 city lived at No. 14 Henry Street ! Re- 
 solving to make his first call at the Gaines 
 residence in his way, if possible, he started
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 255 
 
 on his walk. He learned, on inquiry, that 
 Simon Gaines was dead, and that his aged 
 widow, the person of whom he was in search, 
 had moved from her old home to a distant 
 part of the city. He then went on to Henry 
 Street, but was disappointed again in finding 
 no one at home at No. 14 but an old, half- 
 deaf man, who came forward, with a trum- 
 pet to his ear, and wanted to know who he 
 was, and where he came from, and what he 
 was after. Nick screamed the information 
 into his trumpet; and then he insisted on 
 knowing whose eon he was, and whose grand- 
 son, and whose great-grandson, and " what 
 Gammel " it was that sent him there, and 
 how Mulford happened to give him money to 
 bring home. The visitor saw that he had 
 a herculean job on his hands, but still he 
 staid-, hoping that the old gentleman would 
 stop asking questions after a while, and con- 
 sent to talk. Of course the thing he felt
 
 266 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 most anxious to find out was when he could 
 see Mrs. Mulford, and deliver the money. 
 
 " When do you expect the family home, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Hey ? " (poking the trumpet into his 
 face.) 
 
 *' When will your folks come home ? " 
 (louder.) 
 
 " 0, they'll be home to-night. How long 
 did you say the Hardys had lived in Fen- 
 wick Falls?" 
 
 This was about as near to anything like 
 conversation as Nick could bring the old 
 gentleman. He would have to stop and an- 
 swer his questions, and then return to the 
 charge again. 
 
 " At what hour this evening will Mrs. Mai- 
 ford be here?" 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 " What time to-night will your folks come 
 nome?"
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 257 
 
 " 0, they're coming home to supper. Did 
 you say this Gammel was Mulford's uncle ? " 
 
 It was up-hill work. Nick began to sweat 
 considerably, and to debate in his mind 
 whether he had not better escape to a hotel, 
 and advertise for Mrs. Mulford to come and 
 see him. 3e sat like a martyr, and allowed 
 himself to be pumped till he had told how 
 oil he was, and what he was doing: how 
 many brothers and sisters he had, and what 
 they were doing ; his father's business, his 
 mother's age, and whether he Idoked like 
 her ; how much it was costing him a year 
 to go through college, and where he expect- 
 ed to get his money. Several times the 
 young man tried to shoot in a question him- 
 self, but it was of no use. He could not 
 begin to hold his own with the deaf old 
 gentleman. He did, however, finally man- 
 age to make him say that Mrs. Mulford would 
 be at home at six o'clock; and with that 
 17
 
 258 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 he knew he ought to consider himself fortu- 
 nate, and make good his retreat. But having 
 faced the music thus far, he was rash enough 
 to think that he might extract another answer 
 or two, if he stuck to his work.. He had no 
 idea who the old gentleman was, and hated 
 to ask him ; but finding him domiciled at 
 No. 14 Henry Street, and remembering the 
 directory, he believed his gray head must 
 be a perfect portfolio of family facts just 
 such as he, and Squire Gammel, and Miss 
 Tabitha Magraw were hunting for, and which 
 it would be a great pity not to find out. 
 He ventured to make an inquiry about the 
 genealogy of the Hanfords. 
 
 "What do you want to know that for?" 
 thundered the old gentleman, starting for- 
 ward, and glaring at Nick with a pair of 
 gimlet eyes that seemed to bore boles through 
 him. Nick undertook to explain into the 
 trumpet. " Hey ! What do you want to
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 259 
 
 know for ? '' was the only effect his explana- 
 tion produced. 
 
 He shouted into the old ear-trumpet once 
 more, with the same result, and then gave 
 it up. Seizing his hat, he bowed himself out 
 of the house as gracefully as he could, the 
 old gentleman's words following him into 
 the street like a parting gun. " What do 
 you want to know for? Hey? What do 
 you want to know that for ? " 
 
 Nicholas walked away with mingled emo- 
 tions of annoyance, amusement, and wonder. 
 ,Who was this singular old being, this su- 
 perannuated interrogation-point, this incarna- 
 tion of suspicion and curiosity. The conun- 
 drum was too much for him. 
 
 He found the aged widow Gaines, after 
 a somewhat tedious search, and talked with 
 her an hour, receiving a great deal of valu- 
 able information, which he carefully wrote 
 down. The venerable woman's manner with
 
 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 was in such contrast to his late queer 
 reception, that when he left her he felt all 
 the more reluctant to visit the Mulford house 
 again. He went there, nevertheless, after 
 procuring his supper and making his arrange- 
 ments for the night; and instead of the pry- 
 ing old man with the ear-trumpet, the first 
 person he met was his old school-mistress ! 
 Mr: Hanford, her husband, was Mrs. Mulford's 
 brother, and boarded with his family at her 
 house. Mrs. Mulford soon came in, when 
 Nicholas at once delivered to her the money 
 her husband had sent, and being urged 
 warmly by her and her friends, decided to 
 stay and spend the evening. Nothing could 
 exceed the keen pleasure he felt in living 
 over his boyhood days with the amiable lady 
 who corrected his early rogueries, and was 
 one of the first to discover and call out the 
 good that was in him. It was easy for him, 
 too, to obtain all the knowledge of her bus-
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 261 
 
 band's family that was of importance to his 
 errand. His deaf old catechizer was nowhere 
 to be seen. Mr. Hanford and Mrs. Mulford 
 alluded with a peculiar smile to the young 
 man's call in the afternoon. The old gen- 
 tleman was their grandfather, and his name 
 was Rodney Tudor. They said very little 
 about him more than to remark excusingly 
 that he was aged and had ways of his own, 
 and that, being very hard of hearing, he 
 lived mostly in the past, and rarely spoke 
 unless he was spoken to. In a few confi- 
 dential words aside with his friend Mr&. 
 Hanford, Nicholas was given to understand 
 further that " Grandpa Tudor " was a kind 
 of household hermit, and a trifle miserly ; that 
 no one knew how much wealth he owned, 
 and, in short, that there was " something 
 strange about him." 
 
 Most of our friend Nick's leisure, after his
 
 262 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 return to college, was employed in finishing 
 and committing to memory his " Statement 
 of Facts " oration. Custom allowed him to 
 make this performance as eloquent as he 
 would and as funny as he could. The argu- 
 ment of such a speech was usually rather 
 of the order of a " moot-court " plea, being 
 very earnest, with a sprinkling of the mock- 
 earnest, an excellent practical lesson in 
 rhetoric, and good play-room exercise for 
 a young advocate. Indeed, "Statement of 
 Facts," in its best days, was an annual col- 
 lege grand match of rhetorical gymnastics, 
 in which youthful lawyers and legislators 
 took their first training in political debate. 
 
 The day arrived on which our hero was 
 first to take active part in this rival presen- 
 tation of the two great Societies, and a hand- 
 some carriage conveyed the Athenic digni- 
 taries of the occasion . Hardy, the Senior 
 orator, and the president from their hotel
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 263 
 
 headquarters to Brinley Hall. To the same 
 place, from a rival hotel, in similar pomp, 
 rode the dignitaries of the Adelphi. The 
 hall was crammed with " all college," Seniors, 
 Juns, Sophs, and Fresh, waiting and eager 
 to cheer their favorite speakers as uproari- 
 ously as they could. Were it not that nearly 
 all the humor of its hits, and the point of its 
 polemic, and the force of its argument, depend- 
 ed on the relations and circumstances of the 
 hour, and vanished when these passed away, I 
 might set down a specimen of Nicholas' oration. 
 Suffice it to say, he proved to a perfect 
 demonstration (as he was expected to do) 
 that the Athenic graduates averaged vastly 
 superior in history to those of the Adelphi, 
 and that his society had produced greater 
 statesmen, greater orators and poets, greater 
 masters of science, greater editors, greater 
 philanthropists, and greater teachers, and had 
 given to the college more presidents and
 
 2G4 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 popular professors and tutors, more benefac- 
 tors of its library and treasury, more prize- 
 medal and scholarship-men, more editors of 
 the college magazine, and more Senior So- 
 ciety-men (!) than could be found in all the 
 memorabilia of the other society, if raked 
 and scraped from A to Izzard. He made 
 fun of the Adelphi's hall, describing its 
 splendors in a strain of comic eulogy that 
 called out thunders of Athenian applause and 
 earthquakes of Adelphian groans ; and withal 
 (following the custom of former years) he 
 ridiculed the exploits of the rival society's 
 most vaunted hero, a man whose enterprise 
 had greatly promoted stock-farming and 
 manufactures, portraying him, in verse, as an 
 importer of sheep, and sketching the scene 
 of his first woolly arrival, when 
 
 " Hailed by ten thousand thankful fcllow-creeturt, 
 His golden flock great Jason up the quay 
 Led, softly calling in iambic metres 
 'Ca-da, ca-da, ca-dal'"
 
 NICK INVESTIGATES. 265 
 
 And following this with an elaborate account 
 of the genealogy of " Mary's Little Lamb," 
 he rung the changes on the distinguished 
 sheep-man's greatness, ending off his closing 
 apostrophe with 
 
 " So, still in chorus of Adelphian bleaters, 
 When some new-fleeced bell-wether leads the way, 
 You hear the ghostly shepherd's old canteturs 
 ' Ca-da, ca-da, ca-da ! ' " 
 
 But to attempt to make my reader appre- 
 ciate the pith and wit of an old " Statement 
 of Facts" oration would be like trying to 
 restore the natural flavor to a dried straw- 
 berry, or a petrified peach. 
 
 In the afternoon the Adelphi had their 
 turn, when waggish Matt Calvin, the Junior 
 orator, and his colleagues, of course proved 
 to a perfect demonstration that most of the 
 greatness and celebrity gathered around the 
 names in the old college's " Triennial," be- 
 longed to the graduates who had been num-
 
 266 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 bered in their society ; and of course for 
 three retaliative hours the Athenics rt took 
 it," hip and thigh. 
 
 The day closed, leaving both parties in a 
 state of great exultation and victorious as- 
 surance, and the yet " unpledged " Freshmen 
 in as much doubt as ever which society they 
 ought to join.
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 267 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN WmCH NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 
 
 He thought, and thought and knew not what to think. 
 
 COWPEB. 
 
 TT'S too unmercifully bad!" cried Hardy, 
 rushing into his bedroom for his hat. 
 " It 's outrageous ! Here's the unpleasant 
 side of a practical joke, certainly ! Well, 
 well ! " 
 
 Two panting and terrified callers had 
 rushed in upon him as he sat reading by 
 his study-fire, and almost upset him by their 
 sudden appearance and strange story. There 
 was a man lost ! What could it mean ? 
 Nick had never been so flustered and con- 
 founded in his life.
 
 268 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Look here," he exclaimed again, stand 
 ing stock-still with his overcoat on, and 
 his hat and gloves in his hand, " I don't 
 know where I'm going, now. What in the 
 Sphinx's name can Oliver have done with 
 himself? Why, I saw him get aboard 
 didn't I ? Is it possible that the fellow " 
 and Nick almost caught himself laughing 
 right in the middle of the appalling quan- 
 dary. " Pshaw ! if he did, of course he'd 
 keep still about it, and take the next train. 
 Sit down, Nett, and rest yourself, and I'll 
 run down to the telegraph-office, and send 
 a despatch." 
 
 But his company were in no mood to sit 
 down. They followed at his heels, and all 
 three soon stood at the window of the light- 
 ning-man. In ten seconds more a piece of 
 paper slid in through the window, with two 
 written lines on it, signed " Nick Hardy." 
 
 " Hardy ? " said the operator. " Here's a
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 269 
 
 despatch directed to ' Hardy/ that I've just 
 taken off. Was just going to send it." 
 Nick and his companions eagerly read it. 
 
 " FENWICK FALLS, 3-20 P. M. Oliver is 
 here all right. Come. JERRY." 
 
 The mystery was not all cleared up yet ; 
 but they could afford to laugh. And laugh 
 they did all but the young lady, who 
 looked as if she wanted to cry in spite of 
 the good news. 
 
 " What time does the next train go ? " 
 
 " Half past nine/' said Nick ; " an hour 
 and a half from now. You won't think of 
 going home to-night." 
 
 " Yes, I shall. Come, Abe, I'm going back 
 to the depot." 
 
 "Plucky girl!" quoth Nick, with a flash 
 of admiration. " But here, I'll take care of 
 you two till you are ready to go." 
 
 The three went to a restaurant and had
 
 270 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 a good supper and some quiet talk ; and 
 at half past nine a young man and woman 
 shook hands with Hardy, and got aboard the 
 eastward-bound express. 
 
 Now, before my readers can know what 
 all this means, 1 must tell them that, the 
 day before, Hardy had been surprised and 
 delighted by a visit from his old Fenwick 
 schoolmate, Oliver Wales. Oliver was an 
 honest, steady-going young man, of a mechan- 
 ical turn, thrifty, plodding, and patient, a 
 thoroughly good, safe, solid citizen of twenty- 
 three. Though his course at the academy 
 had been somewhat broken, and his student 
 days ended there, he was by no means poorly 
 educated ; and while not brilliant, his careful 
 habits and ready faculty with his hands had 
 enabled him to coin money already out of 
 an excellent trade. Within a few months 
 lie had been given a responsible place at
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SLTERAL TIMES. 271 
 
 high wages in one of the mills at Fenwick 
 Falls. Hardy had seen him there during 
 the past summer. But none the less for that 
 was he astonished when Oliver walked intc 
 his room one day just after Thanksgiving, 
 and announced that he was married ! It 
 was natural enough that Hardy should hail 
 him with rousing congratulations and slaps 
 on the back. While Oliver was telling him 
 that he intended to " astonish him some 
 more," the door opened, and Proc came in. 
 
 " Do you know Wales ? " cried Hardy, in 
 the hilarity of the moment. " The best fel- 
 low in the world ! I make you acquainted ; " 
 and he presented him in a way that made 
 him and Proc fast friends at once. Pretty 
 soon, with his usual single knock and prompt 
 swing of the door, Matt Calvin came in. 
 
 'Do you know Wales?" quoth Proc, tak- 
 ing the hint of freedom from Nick's mood 
 and Wales' own good-humor. And immedi-
 
 272 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 ately Oliver and Matt were introduced to 
 each other. The party was growing jollier, 
 as well as larger, and Nick playing the 
 pleased host, lugged out a huge basket of 
 late pears, amid loud applause. 
 
 " Now, fellows, sit round," said he ; " we'll 
 cut into these Flemish Beauties, and feast 
 in honor of our friend, a young benedict, 
 just taken his first matrimonial degree ! '' 
 And then, of course, the fun was livelier 
 than ever; and if Nick had told them that 
 the Flemish Beauties were a present to him 
 from the "countess," there might have x been 
 more fun. In the mirlst of the feasting there 
 was another sharp knock on the door, and 
 in came Barkenhead and Whately. A noisy 
 mutual salute followed, of course, and the 
 merriment culminated when Proc and Calvin, 
 both in a breath, asked them " if they knew 
 Wales." 
 
 Oliver began to think there was some
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 273 
 
 preconcerted method in the sport. Really, 
 however, the meeting of the fellows was acci- 
 dental. It was Thanksgiving recess, and they 
 had nothing to do but visit each other, and 
 be sociable; and "Do you know Wales?" 
 had been suddenly caught up like any other 
 spontaneous joke. 
 
 " Don't this remind you of old Fenwick 
 days?'' asked Hardy of Oliver; and Oliver 
 admitted that it did. But for all that he 
 grew uneasy before the visitors went away. 
 When he was alone with Hardy again, he 
 said, " I must go now, and you must go with 
 me." 
 
 Nick was a little taken aback at this. Of 
 course he was all anxiety to see his friend's 
 new bride, but but wouldn't Mrs. Wales 
 be resting after her journey, &c., <fec. 
 
 'Well, the fact is," said Oliver, with a 
 droll smile, " when I left ' Mrs. Wales,' she 
 was in considerable .of a hurry to see you, 
 18
 
 274 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and I suppose she's wondering now why 
 you don't come." 
 
 " The mischief she is ! " exclaimed Nick, 
 who saw now that there was a discovery 
 in wait for him. He went with Oliver to 
 the hotel, and was politely introduced to 
 Jtis sister Annette! 
 
 " You old rascal ! I've a good mind to 
 pull your whiskers ! How in the world did 
 you two manage to keep the secret so 
 well ? " cried Nick. And, of course, his com- 
 ical wonder was great entertainment to his 
 sister and brother-in-law. 
 
 Then came the laughing explanations. It 
 had been a case of " love at first sight " be- 
 tween Oliver and " Nett." She worked in 
 the loom-room where he was overseer. When 
 Nick was at home in the summer there was 
 a coolness between them. But her brother's 
 sensible talk had rather shamed her foolish 
 notion of setting up for a possible heiress,
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 275 
 
 and her real love for the young machinist 
 came out triumphant. A Thanksgiving wed- 
 ding was the result, and they decided to 
 make a bridal trip to New Harbor, and sur- 
 prise " brother Nick." " Brother Nick " was 
 inexpressibly gratified and delighted. He 
 dined with the young couple, spent the after- 
 noon showing them round, staid with them 
 to supper (Oliver insisting on paying all ex- 
 penses), and in the evening, at the bride- 
 groom's invitation, he took Proc, Calvin, Bar- 
 kenhead, and Whately to the hotel to see 
 " Mrs. Wales." Annette was pretty, and it 
 is needless to say the young men were highly 
 pleased and complimentary, and left pledges 
 of romantic remembrance when they with- 
 drew. 
 
 The next morning Nick accompanied the 
 pair to the railroad station, and while Oliver 
 went to see to the loading of some new 
 household purchases, he found his sister a
 
 276 THE WOODEN BPOON. 
 
 seat in one of the cars. When the three- 
 minute bell struck he left the car, and soon 
 after, seeing Oliver (as he supposed, in the 
 dim light of the old underground depot) 
 jump aboard near the baggage-van, he shout- 
 ed " Good-bye " to him, and hurried away- 
 just as the train began to move. And now 
 began the vexatious snarl that made that 
 day's history the joke of a whole honey- 
 moon. Having shipped his baggage, Oliver^ 
 bethinking him to purchase a package of 
 dainties for his bride, glanced at the station- 
 clock, and ran up stairs to the refreshment- 
 saloon. The usual racket around the depot, 
 and the noise of an incoming train, were 
 somewhat confusing to a stranger. He heard 
 a station-signal while his package was being 
 put up, but the waiter-girl told him it was 
 the three-minute bell. He hastened down as 
 soon as he received his confectionery, but it 
 was only to see his train moving rapidly
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 277 
 
 out at the lower end of the depot. The 
 bell he had heard was the starting-bell ! He 
 ran with all his might for five or six rods 
 but it was a useless chase. The reader can 
 fancy the poor fellow's emotions. But badly 
 as he felt, his deserted bride was in worse 
 distress. Her alarm when he failed to appear 
 increased with every mile of the swift- going 
 wheels. Where could Oliver be ? Was it 
 possible that he had been left? Was he 
 forward, still busy with the baggage-man? 
 Was he in the smoking-car? Had he been 
 killed? Had he run away? Every kind of 
 absurd and horrible suggestion came up, to 
 be as soon dismissed for another. The train 
 was an express, and would stop but once in 
 the whole fifty miles. All the passengers 
 were entire strangers to her, and the bash- 
 fulness of a young, newly-married girl, unused 
 as yet to speak of her " husband," for a long 
 time kept her dumb. She made up her
 
 278 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 mind to get off at the half-way station, but 
 when she finall} T told the conductor her 
 trouble, he said that undoubtedly her com- 
 panion was " left," and would coine on in 
 the next train. Poor Annette had never in 
 all her life done so much thinking as she 
 did on that desolate journey. It almost made 
 her old. But her suspense and mortification 
 were turned to terror when she reached 
 home and was shown a telegram just re- 
 ceived from New Harbor, 
 
 "Do you know Wales?" 
 
 The family had puzzled their heads over 
 it in vain, and when Annette arrived with- 
 out her husband, they all sympathized with 
 her alarm. In less than ten minutes another 
 telegram came, 
 
 " We have found a man who don't know 
 Wales."
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 279 
 
 Annette was nearly distracted. She could 
 not eat. She could not sit still. Nothing 
 would do but she must start again in the 
 next return train, and get back to New 
 Harbor. A despatch was sent to Nick, mak- 
 ing inquiry (for both the messages were 
 signed with a strange name), but being mis- 
 directed, for some reason, to the hotel where 
 Wales had lodged, it brought no response. 
 Abe was called out of the mill to go with 
 his sister in search of her husband. It 
 was a " case of life and death," and he 
 
 could not refuse. So the two started to- 
 
 i 
 
 gether. 
 
 Not very far from the same time Oliver 
 Wales, worried and terribly impatient with 
 long waiting, started from New Harbor on 
 an eastward train. Chagrin at his foolish 
 mishap had prevented him from reporting 
 himself to Hardy, and he had hung about 
 the depot forlorn and alone. At six oVl<< '.,
 
 280 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the young husband and wife, riding opposite 
 ways, passed, .all unconscious, within two 
 feet of each othor on the railroad. The 
 arrival of Annette in New Harbor produced 
 the scene described at the opening of the 
 chapter. The arrival of Oliver in Fenwick 
 Falls set flying the v despatch from Jerry, 
 which began to put matters right again. 
 
 Proc, Calvin, and the rest of the pear 
 party, had, with Nick's connivance, con- 
 ceived and sent the two telegrams to Fen- 
 wick Falls, intending them to reach there 
 about the time he did, and furnish an inno- 
 cent pleasantry for him to laugh at. And 
 this was the way the joke ended. 
 
 But, as Nick declared with a good deal 
 of gleeful pride, the lively experiences of 
 that day "made a woman of Nett." She 
 not only learned to say " My husband " out 
 plump and bold, but learned how much she 
 loved him, and how it seemed for once to
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 281 
 
 have all her energies waked up, and to act 
 decidedly for herself. 
 
 A week after the singular contretemps that 
 played such a comedy with Wales and his 
 bridal tour, Nicholas Hardy had another sur- 
 prise. Term-time had come again, and he 
 was hard at work on his studies, when one 
 evening there appeared to him, grave and 
 quiet as a Quaker, the lost, forgotten Bill 
 Dickinson ! The change in his looks and 
 manner wa's so great that his old classmate 
 did not at first know him. 
 
 " You did it" he said, smiling when Nick 
 recognized him with a shout and a grip. 
 " You just did it, Hardy, when you gave 
 me that talking to up there in Collingwood. 
 I've been at work ever since like a tiger, 
 and I've pretty nearly caught up. I've been 
 here three days, keeping dark till I had my 
 private examination ; and now, barring a con-
 
 282 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 dition on Mathematics, I'm a Junior with a 
 clear title, and can begin recitations to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 Hardy was so astonished and overjoyed 
 that he did not know what to say. For 
 naif a minute he stood looking at him. 
 
 "Dick, brave old boy, I admire you!" 
 
 11 Nick, brave old boy, I thank you ! but 
 you may keep the admiration. I am get- 
 ting back some of the ambition of better 
 days, and I intend to get back some of the 
 character, too. Pray for me, and lend me 
 a helping hand, as you said you would 
 that's all." 
 
 " Aye, and I am not the only one who'll 
 do that, Dick," said Hardy fervently. 
 
 Bill Dickinson was soon a member of the 
 class again, in good and regular standing; 
 and from that time he held on his way nobly, 
 completely redeeming himself long before the 
 end of his course.
 
 NICK IS SUEPRISED SEVEEAL TIMES. 283 
 
 By the end of winter the condition of hia 
 finances began to trouble Hardy again. So 
 far as time was money, his course thus far in 
 his third year had been easier for his means, 
 and his membership in a Junior society was 
 not wasteful either of dollars or hours. But 
 one soon finds the bottom of a short purse, 
 and now Nick's old problem returned upon 
 him. He determined that he would try to 
 obtain a class, or a place as tutor in some 
 one of the schools of the city. 
 
 Junior Exhibition (a sort of rehearsal " in 
 character " of the grand graduation perform- 
 ance on Commencement Stage-day, a year 
 later) came on early in April, and for the 
 first time the members of the class stood 
 before the college public, ranged according 
 to their scholarship. Hardy had an oration, 
 but chose to write his part in verse, and of 
 course his name appeared on the programme 
 with a " poem " scheduled against it. The
 
 284 TffE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 title of his poem was " The Last King of At- 
 lantis ; " and after the exhibition was over, 
 he found that he had had at least one appre- 
 ciative hearer more than he counted on. 
 Away up in a back seat of the gallery of 
 the old chapel, the only seat he could find 
 unfilled, sat a man who, attracted first by the 
 poet's subject, listened to his poem with 
 vivid relish from prelude to epilogue ; and 
 that man took the trouble to inquire out the 
 poet's room, and wait for him in the dark 
 hall till he came up. Hardy was not a little 
 perplexed to meet, at ten o'clock in the 
 evening, a stranger at his door who intro- 
 duced himself as Horace Godwin, and he 
 was still more perplexed when, on being in- 
 vited in, the man excused his presence on 
 the ground of his old interest in the legend 
 of the lost Atlantis, and his new interest in 
 its poetic treatment on the stage that night, 
 and went on to say that he hoped no apol-
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 285 
 
 ogy was needed for desiring to be acquaint 
 ed with the author of such lines as,- 
 
 " The sunlight slept on Atalan, 
 And, gleaming like a warrior's helm, 
 The palace-domes of Odofan 
 Rose up amid her island realm. 
 Soft were the ocean winds among 
 Her glens as dreamer's breathing free, 
 And siren-sweet the birds that sung 
 In that Al Irem of the sea, 
 Where groves of nut and banyan green 
 Grew aged in the- climate calm, 
 And, crowning all the leafy scene, 
 
 Towered fadeless summer's tops of palm." 
 
 I 
 
 Hardy's perplexity became amazement now. 
 The strange man was repeating his poem 
 word for word ! And he went on repeating, 
 line after line, until he was stopped. Hardy, 
 who had struck his light and seated his 
 guest, sat down himself and gazed at him. 
 Horace Godwin was a medium-sized, heavily, 
 bearded man, with a bald head, unsatisfac-
 
 286 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 tory blue eyes, and rather seedy clothes; 
 but Horace Godwin was evidently a prodigy. 
 He began to talk prose, and the prose was 
 a great deal more wonderful than the poe- 
 try, for it was his own. His language was 
 choice, and his sentences fairly sparkled 
 with rhetorical beauty ; and when he began 
 to quote again it seemed to make no differ- 
 ence with him whether he quoted English, 
 or Latin, or Greek. ' 
 
 " I think that in your story of Atlantis 
 you followed the hints of Plato, Mr. Hardy," 
 said he courteously. 
 
 " Partly Plato, and partly fancy," replied 
 Hardy, laughing. 
 
 " You preferred that form of the legend 
 to the account given by Theopompus?" 
 
 " I never read Theopompus," said Hardy. 
 
 " Ah ! so your eye never happened to 
 fall on that rich old fragment in Aelian's 
 Ponce Sistorioe / " and he glided into the
 
 NIGK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 287 
 
 story as familiarly and naturally as if he 
 had been relating the adventures of Robinson 
 Crusoe, giving it in charming English, min- 
 gled with more charming Greek, but appar- 
 ently checking himself in the latter, as though 
 afraid it might sound a little pedantic. 
 
 " Let me have the original/' said Hardy 
 (to try him). " You are telling me more 
 about Atlantis than I ever knew." 
 
 And, to his astonishment, Godwin, without 
 the slightest sign of consciousness that he 
 was performing a feat, went on fluently recit- 
 ing the original Greek of Theopompus' frag- 
 ment in Aelian, till Hardy ached with sheer 
 pain of attention in -trying to follow him. 
 Wrought up to the highest pitch of wonder 
 and curiosity, he contrived to change the 
 subject and introduce conversation that would 
 " draw out " his accomplished visitor in other 
 directions. He found that he was as familiar 
 with the living languages of Europe as with
 
 288 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the old classics ; and when he appealed to 
 him on some question in his French and 
 German (for Nick had taken up these as 
 Junior " optionals "), and begged him to ren- 
 der the meaning of sundry remembered cru- 
 cial passages in his Cicero, Livy, Tacitus, 
 .rfEschylus, and Arrian, he translated and ex- 
 plained everything with an ease and nicety 
 that showed cultured taste no less than 
 thorough learning. 
 
 It seemed to Hardy that he had never 
 before met so ripe a scholar. By leading 
 suggestions, and partly by direct inquiry, 
 he learned that Godwin was a graduate of 
 an English university. How to reconcile 
 this with his present threadbare appearance 
 troubled Nick not a little. Perhaps the vis- 
 itor divined his thoughts, and meant to divert 
 him, for he made a remark calling attention 
 to the old wooden-spoon bowl, which Hardy 
 now kept hung, with other characteristic
 
 KICK IS SUEPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 289 
 
 college-boy trophies, on the wall of his 
 room. 
 
 "You are not a cochleaureatus?" 
 
 " No, sir. That is supposed to be a relic 
 of an old sea-faring ancestor of mine a 
 souvenir of his captivity and rescue from 
 starvation, among the Turks, or Tartars, or 
 some such kind of people." 
 
 " Ah, one of the Viatka spoons, perhaps. 
 They make thirty millions of those wooden 
 ladles in Russia every year." 
 
 " I don't know. The story goes that he 
 made it himself, or had it made, and 
 .that the handle had a diamond in it." 
 
 " I see. An heirloom with a mystery to 
 it. There's a boating chorus it recalls to 
 mind. "We used to sing it at the university. 
 
 ' O, the old sun laughs as he lightly quaffs 
 
 His ocean-cup merry and boon, 
 And brave eyes wink o'er the foamy drink 
 That's stirred with the commodore's spoon."* 
 
 19
 
 290 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " A decidedly bibulous song," said Nick. 
 " But I am a teetotaller, and I should be 
 sorry if the commodore had ever stirred his 
 drink with that spoon." 
 
 " Possibly he did, though, if old Commo- 
 dore Hardy is the man meant," said Godwin, 
 laughing, as he rose to go. 
 
 It was nearly midnight. He placed in 
 Hardy's hand a small book written by him- 
 self, a treatise on the legend of Atlantis. 
 Nicholas expressed his obligations, not at- 
 tempting to conceal his wonder at the man's 
 rare learning ; nor could he avoid hinting 
 an inquiry as to his present location and 
 business. 
 
 " A man of your attainments," said he, 
 with another involuntary glance at his seedy 
 clothes, "should command ten thousand a 
 year." 
 
 Horace Godwin's unsatisfactory blue eyes
 
 NICK IS SUEPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 291 
 
 flashed. % "Mr. Hardy," said he, "I am not 
 a teetotaller, like you. In this country that 
 makes all the difference between the few 
 hundreds I get for translating commercial let- 
 ters, and the possible ' ten thousand.' I lost 
 a tutor's position," he continued, resuming 
 the easy frankness he had shown at first, 
 " a few weeks ago, at the Park Avenue 
 Female Seminary, because they found out 
 I loved wine too well. Probably it is better 
 that a man of my appetites should be kept 
 poor. And so we'll let that go." And after 
 a little general conversation, and a brief 
 passage of courtesies, the seedy scholar took 
 his leave. 
 
 If I say that eventually, through the influ- 
 ence of the venerable clergyman whom he 
 had met at Miss Tabitha Magraw's, Nick 
 secured a private class for his remarkable 
 new friend, I shall only anticipate a little;
 
 292 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and if I say that, on the recommendation of 
 Professor Thirwall, he secured Horace God- 
 win's lost tutorship at the Park Avenue for 
 himself, I shall only state what my reader 
 might have guessed without doing injustice 
 to anybody. When he'first saw his class 
 he noticed that one of the pupils, a beauti- 
 ful young lady, blushed and evidently recog- 
 nized him. But it was not till he spoke 
 to her, after the lesson, that he could really 
 recall who she was. 
 
 " It is nearly four years since I betat you 
 in the Virgil match at Fenwick," she said 
 roguishly. 
 
 " Miss Nelly Lincoln ! Well, you have 
 changed. How long have you been here ? " 
 
 " Almost two terms. Father came here 
 with me just before last summer vacation, 
 and entered my name." 
 
 Hardy smiled curiously. U I do not know
 
 NICK IS SURPRISED SEVERAL TIMES. 293 
 
 how I happened to have this with me; it 
 has been a good while folded," he said. And 
 he took from one of his pockets the little 
 lace-edged handkerchief he had picked up 
 on the cliff, and restored it to its owner.
 
 294 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUBEATI." 
 
 . . One of many ' wooden spoons,' 
 .... (The name with which we Cantabs please 
 To dub the last of honors in degrees.) BYBON. 
 
 nnHE position of the highest scholars in a 
 large college often brings more honor 
 than comfort, for it is no easy thing to fill it 
 gracefully and to popular acceptance. Led 
 naturally, by their similarity of attainments, 
 to associate with each other, these "first 
 men " are likely to create a suspicion of being 
 exclusive and aristocratic, which is sure to 
 bring upon them the unmerciful banter of all 
 the low-appointment and no-appointment men, 
 who are the large majority of the class. The 
 middle scholars, on the contrary, are almost
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 295 
 
 always OD excellent terms with the highest 
 and the lowest, being equally able to appre- 
 ciate the real excellence of the " first men," 
 and to laugh with the multitude at any airs 
 they may put on. Nicholas Hardy's " stand " 
 as a scholar placed him very much like this, 
 in his class, and as it had become customary 
 in his day for the cochleaureati* or mock- 
 honor men, to select the actors for their 
 ' Wooden Spoon Exhibition " from the most 
 " witty, genial, and gentlemanly," as well as 
 from the poorest scholars of the class, there 
 was no unfitness in his accepting a part for 
 which his popularity put him in demand. 
 
 The Wooden Spoon Exhibition was a bur- 
 lesque of Junior exhibition, and occurred two 
 
 * From the Latin cochlear, " spoon," and laureatus, 
 "crowned." The tochleaureati, or "spoon-laureates," were 
 originally all the Juniors who took no "honor," or got no ap- 
 pointment on the Junior exhibition list. The student who took 
 the Wooden Spoon was (originally) the last " colloquy " man, 
 or the one standing lowest on the appointment list.
 
 296 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 months later, or towards the close of the col- 
 lege year. Hardy agreed to prepare, and 
 read or deliver, a treatise of some kind on 
 the occasion, suitably humorous and absurd, 
 of course; and his presence and Matt Cal- 
 vin's (the only other " oration " man who took 
 part) would relieve the spoon-laureates from 
 their supposed pretension that wit and poor 
 scholarship went together. 
 
 There was a general feeling that Proc 
 ought to be made the recipient of the wooden 
 spoon, but the very canons of irony that 
 would seem to have assured it to him cut 
 him off with a technicality. The " honors " 
 had not extended down far enough to touch 
 Proc, nor would have done so if the Fac- 
 ulty had tacked on a "third colloquy," or 
 a " soliloquy " below that, and, as the the- 
 ory of the matter then stood, it would mar 
 the point of the satire if the spoon-man 
 should be any other than the lowest scholar
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCnLEATJREATI." 297 
 
 who got an appointment. The spoon, invested 
 with all the fun and comical pomp of a public 
 presentation, was that individual's perqui- 
 site, to console him for his ridiculous and 
 exposed position as tail-end man. In Nick's 
 class, the tail-end man happened to be Bark- 
 enhead ; and to Barkenhead accordingly was 
 assigned the spoon. Bark was rich enough 
 to shoulder the distinction, and carry it off 
 quite grandly ; and in fact the majority of the 
 " cochleaureates " could make up in money 
 what they lacked in scholarship. Of course 
 they bore all expenses, and honorary partners 
 like Hardy and Calvin shared the presen- 
 tation sport without being taxed to " pay 
 the fiddlers," which considering that said 
 " fiddlers " were the famous Dodworth's Band 
 from New York was no trifling exemption. 
 Barkenhead entered on his preparations 
 with a zeal which he had never shown over 
 his books. The time he spent studying pat-
 
 298 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 terns, and negotiating with wood engravers 
 and silversmiths, would, if employed in reg- 
 ular work, have redeemed many a dismal 
 flunk in his logic and mathematics. But ii 
 it had not been this diversion, it would have 
 been some other, and Bark was fortunate in 
 having nothing more frivolous or questionable 
 than a wooden spoon to take up his mind. 
 He could find nothing, in all his search after 
 models, 'that pleased him so well as the old 
 relic that hung in Hardy's room ; and many 
 and frequent trips thither his long legs made 
 pending his cochleaureate knighthood. He 
 examined the ancient bowl and its stump of 
 a handle with critical admiration, and shouted 
 approval while Nick, with the gravity of a 
 grand vizier, set forth the mysterious value 
 of the venerable piece, and told its history 
 with eloquent embellishments, and the end 
 was the adoption of its design, in every 
 known particular, for the ceremonial spoon.
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUBEATI." 299 
 
 Nick's poetical fancy supplied the pattern of 
 the handle, and the order was committed to 
 the artists, who in due time turned out a 
 perfect chef d'ceuvre of a ladle three feet 
 long. There was something weird-looking in 
 the very beauty of the carved, polished, 
 black-walnut, silver-mounted wonder to Nick 
 when he first saw it. The curious old sharp- 
 beaked bowl that he had looked at so long,, 
 and dreamed ove"r sometimes, had been re- 
 produced exactly, with its delicately moulded 
 rim} and its rakish taper, and its exquisitely 
 carved grape-leaf on the convex at the spring 
 of the handle, only the copy had a fine 
 silver line running round the border. This 
 variety, however, was probably a restoration, 
 for Barkenhead, in squinting over the origi- 
 nal, had discovered a bit of silver thread 
 deep in the wood, and insisted, with very 
 ingenious show of reason, that the missing 
 portion of the thread had once encircled the
 
 300 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 bowl, starting each way from the thumb- 
 swell, and following the little groove under 
 the bead. The handle of the spoon was an 
 elegant stem, having the spinal, line-of-beauty 
 curve, elaborated to the tip with chevron and 
 scale-work) and silvered with fillets and dam- 
 askeen filigree. The flat end bore a silver 
 escutcheon, with the presentation date and 
 the recipient's name, and I must not omit to 
 add that in the stoutest part of this -sump- 
 tuous stick was an invisible hollow screw- 
 joint, where Barkenhead had taken the humor 
 (from Nick's "diamond" story) to put a fine 
 rock-crystal in. Bark said he calculated to 
 " start an antiquity of his own ; " but whether 
 he intended to "play it" on some future 
 spoon-man, with the sham diamond, he never 
 told. The new ladle, on the whole, did have 
 a rather original and distinguished appear- 
 ance. The bowl, with its singular breadth of 
 bulge, and sharpened oval, so suggestive of
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 301 
 
 an arrow-head in the stemless model, now, 
 with the sinuous handle behind it, reminded 
 one of the head of a living creature ; and 
 when Bark, with a glow of artistic pride, 
 declared that the spoon looked " like a sea- 
 serpent," Nick said yes, and wondered how 
 nearly his guesswork had restored the real 
 form and fashion of the old spoon of sea- 
 faring Solomon Hardee. 
 
 All ready for the grand pageant at last 1 
 For one night certainly the Cochleaureati 
 would be the college world's ascendant stars. 
 High-appointment men must hide their di- 
 minished heads, and subsist on self-conscious 
 greatness. The fair public would not notice 
 them. This evening white handkerchiefs, and 
 bouquets, and gloved applause, are all for the 
 " good fellows." 
 
 At an early hour Brinley Hall was crowded 
 from stage to vestibule with as handsome and 
 genteel an audience as a handsome and gen-
 
 302 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 teel city could send. Seniors, Jun."ors, Soph- 
 omores, and all the Freshmen who were smart 
 enough to get two tickets, were there with 
 their ladies, gathered from far and near. No 
 affair in the whole series of college exhibi- 
 tions could draw such an attendance of 
 beauty as invariably graced the Presentation 
 of the Wooden Spoon. It was an amusement, 
 and in that character of attractiveness stood 
 alone the " Midsummer Night's Dream" of 
 the university year. The whole floor of the 
 hall, with its four hundred fluttering fans, and 
 four hundred dainty June bonnets, and four 
 hundred fair girl faces, looked like a great 
 garden of breeze-blown roses. Among the 
 " roses " sat Miss Nelly Lincoln (changed to 
 " Nellie " now, of course), beside our friend 
 Hardy, whose slight connection, by the way, 
 with Park Avenue Female Seminary as one- 
 hour-in-the-day tutor, put him under no more 
 obligation to be shy of attending one of its
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 303 
 
 lady students than if he had been an outsider 
 entirely. 
 
 The " Opening Load " was given on the 
 programme as the " Overturn to the Caliph 
 of Bag-dad," and the audience waited until 
 they began to laugh, thinking they were sold; 
 then the curtain rose, and they saw a little 
 wooden (" Trojan ") horse lying heels up- 
 wards, and JEneas carrying old Anchises off 
 the stage in a sack slung over his shoulder, 
 while Dodworth's Band finished the overture 
 in good earnest, and brought down the house 
 by playing " Captain Jinks of the Horse- 
 Marines." 
 
 The " Salutatory by the Nine Muses " was 
 then announced, and the nine Spoon-Com- 
 mittee men came out, all in black broadcloth 
 pants and swallow-tails, white vests and 
 white cravits, with little gold spoon badges 
 on their coat lappf/ls, and made their formal 
 bow, standing in a row. The address was a
 
 304 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 queer farrago in two or three languages, full 
 of hits arid puns, with enough English in it 
 to be pretty well understood (with the aid o 
 the abundant pantomime that accompanied 
 it) even by the lady listeners ; but the real 
 oddity of it was, that the middle man of the 
 nine did all the talking, and the joke of it 
 was, that the majority of the audience did not 
 know it. The left-end man stepped to the 
 front,, and gesticulated and moved his lips 
 just as the first words were spoken, and con- 
 tinued to do so through the first paragraph 
 of the address, when he retired behind, ajid 
 the right-end man took his place, moving his 
 arms and lips in like manner, and retiring as 
 the first had done to give place to the next 
 man on the left of the row ; and this was 
 kept up through all the nine divisions of the 
 salutatory, each man taking his turn to stand 
 directly in front of the real speaker and make 
 the gestures, and retire behind, till the whole
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREA.TI." 305 
 
 nine stood in single file back to the wall, with 
 the speaker in front. The laughter began 
 when it got whispered about that the appar- 
 ent speakers said nothing at all, and then, 
 when everybody knew it, the laughter only 
 increased because the deception was so com 
 plete. 
 
 The bete noir of all spoon-men is the Phi 
 Beta Kappa Society, that ethereal order of 
 learning's aristocracy whereinto the elite of 
 every college's resultant scholarship float at 
 graduation, and dwell in mutual apotheosis: 
 and it is against this high fraternity, and its 
 badge (a great, square, gold watch-key), that 
 the satirical wit of the spoon-laureates loves 
 to discharge its shafts, only taking care to 
 keep within the bounds of harmless fun. In 
 the emblem or armorial ensign of the " coch- 
 ieaureati," the shield bears on its lower right 
 quarter the Phi Beta Kappa key turned 
 wrong end up, and the motto across the 
 20
 
 306 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 shield is, Super sinistram lugemus, " We feel 
 bad over the left." Under that emblem (at 
 the head of their programme) our waggish 
 performers continued to bombard the scho- 
 lastic aristocrats in disquisitions, songs, col- 
 loquies, pantomimes, and rubs, all the way 
 from the ninefold salutatory to Barkenhead's 
 reception speech, Dodworth's Band coming 
 between in the breathing-places, applying 
 musical salve, to set them up so that they 
 could be knocked down again. 
 
 The first song by " We First Men " was 
 "Clio's Gift," set to a familiar air. 
 
 "'Tis said that when the Muses 
 
 s 
 
 Dwelt on Parnassian rocks, 
 The lasses kept their sewing 
 
 In old Pandora's box; 
 And once, with all their gossips, 
 
 One eve in leafy June, 
 They chatted o'er their nectar, 
 
 Stirred with a Wooden Spoon." 
 
 Minerva and several " weird sisters "come 
 iu (the song went on to say), and the talk is
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 307 
 
 on contributing prizes to encourage learning 
 among men. 
 
 " Out spoke the hag Medusa, 
 
 (A Gorgon foul was she,) 
 ' I for a badge of honor 
 
 Will give Pandora's KEY.' 
 'That stolen badge,' cried Clio, 
 
 'Will prove a slighted boon. 
 
 WE for a meed of merit 
 
 Will give our Wooden Spoon.'" 
 
 The next song was sentimental, "The 
 Spoon-Man's Soliloquy," sung to the tune 
 
 of Hazel Dell." 
 
 < 
 
 "When at prizes fair I first did shy thce, 
 
 Gemmy optic mine, 
 Though full softly they went stealing by me, 
 
 I did not repine. 
 For the spoon alone it could awake me 
 
 With its stirring tone, 
 And I said, ' My "spoon, I'll ne'er forsake tiiee ! 
 
 Fondly be mine own.' 
 
 In my dreams thy plated stem soft glowing 
 Shone with silver flame;
 
 808 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Oft I marked how goblins small and knowing 
 Carved thereon my name," Ac., &c. 
 
 Another song was a comical variation on 
 the old Ethiopian melody, " Stop dat knockin'/' 
 representing the " ins." (pale Ph. B. K. can- 
 didates,) and the "outs/' (muscular class- 
 bpys,) engaged in sharp dialogue, and a Fresh- 
 man between them, like the ass between two 
 bundles of hay. And a very laughable, mu- 
 sical jingle the chorus made, Charley Dur- 
 kee's ringing tenor leading the teasing re- 
 frain, 
 
 "College honors! college honors! 
 College honors! college honors!" 
 
 and the bottomless bass of big Heman Tim- 
 othy, in recurrent short-stop, thundering, 
 
 "Wooden Spoon!" 
 
 Of course these songs came in at judicious 
 intervals, and I have only mentioned them 
 together for the sake of convenience.
 
 NICK HELPS THE u COCHLEAUREATI." 309 
 
 Hardy's part in the performance was a 
 "Philosophical Disquisition on Noses." It was 
 not his place to ridicule scholarship, and so, 
 while much of his mirth-making was mildly 
 sarcastical, the hits were only at manners and 
 " biped miseries," and with now and then a 
 dash of " accidental " mimicry, (for his won- 
 derful facial and vocal talent for that had never 
 left him.) His "Electrical Pry Prognos(e)- 
 stick," full of wittily-warped quotations and 
 punning points, cuffed the meddlers who stick 
 their noses into other people's business, and 
 singled out college bores in particular, with 
 ludicrous directions how to know when they 
 are coming, and how to get rid of them ; and 
 when he discussed the " nos(e)ology of turn- 
 ups," with a great many drolly-apt illustra- 
 tions from old Nos(e)tradamus, the college 
 snobs and boarding-school flora-flimsys got 
 the most laughable basting they had ever had 
 in their lives. His nearest approach to prick-
 
 310 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 ing the " high " scholars was when he pre- 
 tended "to give Spinoza's diagnos(e)is of 
 roots," arid after recounting with comical 
 gravity the different sorts of noses that 
 would not or could not " do their own root- 
 ing," and the reasons why, fired a single 
 squib at the " Sanscrit digs " who shut them- 
 selves up, and spend days and nights nosing 
 out the etymology of a word through eight 
 languages and seventeen dialects. Some 
 parts of his speech were a mere play upon 
 words, but this excited even more merriment 
 than the rest, being more simply and imme- 
 diately amusing. The readiness with which 
 all the college boys took it, and imparted it 
 to their fair companions, kept a breeze of 
 mirth in motion all over the hall. This was 
 especially so when Hardy in one passage 
 parodied the style (and almost the very 
 words) of a recent class lecture in metaphys- 
 ics, in which the continued pronunciation of
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEA UREATI." 311 
 
 nose made the absurdest kind of scientific 
 sing-song. " If a man knows, how does he 
 know that he knows ? And if he knows that 
 he knows, how does he know that he knowa 
 that he knows ? " And when he had run that 
 far enough, he made a practical application of 
 it in the same style. " If a man knows what 
 he knows he'll be- happy. If he knows not, 
 and knows that he knows not, he'll be tol- 
 erably comfortable. If he knows not, and 
 knows not that he knows not, hell be mis- 
 erable." The imitation was so exact, that the 
 professor of metaphysics would have laughed 
 himself, if he had been there. Hardy fol- 
 lowed this with a humorous argument to 
 prove that there is no " wasted sweetness," 
 and ended by saying that the earth itself 
 would one day smell its own flowers, which 
 prophecy he fortified with 
 
 "Xos(c) habcbit humus."* 
 
 * Humorously translated, "The ground will have a nose." 
 The Latin is a. line from the old college song, " Gaudeamiu."
 
 812 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 I must not omit to mention the Phi BM* 
 Kappa " colloquy," got up by Matt Calvin, 
 which probably made more fun than anything 
 else " down on the bill." There was slim 
 Ned Binney standing with both his arms 
 crooked out and in till his fingers touched his 
 waist, making him look just like the Greek 
 letter Phi. Next to him stood slim Will 
 Sampson making a B of himself with one 
 elbow and one knee. And last in the row, 
 slimmer Bob Barkenhead (amid frantic ap- 
 plause) executed a K by sticking out diag- 
 onally one of his arms and one of his long 
 legs. In that painful pose the three com- 
 menced to sing, in weak, squeaking voices 
 
 "Phi Beta, the empress of honors! 
 
 Her fare is the fare for me; 
 She gives easy entrance to fawners, 
 And I'm bound to carry the key. 
 
 Then strike up the trump and the chipper, 
 
 And fiddle, and big whang-jar. 
 Three choors for Phi Beta Kappa, 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah I
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 313 
 
 "Phi Beta, the hope of the scholar. 
 
 The home where the tutors repair, 
 I'll study and spend my last dollar 
 To go and be happy there! 
 Then strike, &c. 
 
 "And then, whether married or single, 
 I can live on the laurels I've won: 
 I'll walk where the sages commingle, 
 And talk with the blue-stocking ton. 
 Then strike," &c. 
 
 till suddenly entered three muscular coch- 
 leaureates, bearing an enormous flat wooden 
 spoon (whittled out of a clapboard), and 
 charged upon the unlucky Greek letter men, 
 tumbling Barkenhead (who was quite ready 
 to tumble by this time) over upon Sampson, 
 and Sampson over upon Binney, and they all 
 went down like a row of bricks, and the 
 curtain fell. 
 
 There was more music by the band, and 
 then came the grand Presentation, when, 
 with much flourish of amusing oratory, the
 
 S14 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 spoon of the occasion was exhibited to the 
 admiring throng, and passed from the hands 
 of the president of the committee to those 
 of its happy owner. The whole audience 
 sang " Gaudeamus "_to the thunder of the big 
 hall organ, the doors let out the smiling, talk- 
 ative crowd, and all was still. Mere descrip- 
 tion gives the reader but little idea of the 
 brilliancy and attractions of the old annual 
 Wooden Spoon night, looked for and enjoyed 
 in those days with such keen pleasure and 
 relish. The dumb picture, without the spark- 
 ling life, is all that can be transferred to the 
 printed page. 
 
 It was late when Hardy returned to his 
 room from Park Avenue. Sitting down, tired 
 and drowsy, his eye fell on the ancestral 
 relic hung on his wall, and the words of one 
 of the evening's songs " beat time to nothing 
 in his head " : 
 
 "In my dreams thy plated stem soft glowing 
 Shone with silver flame;
 
 NICK HELPS THE " COCHLEAUREATI." 315 
 
 Oft I marked how goblins small and knowing 
 Carved thereon my name." 
 
 He smiled, but decided to adjourn his 
 dreaming till he was safe in bed. But by 
 that time there were thoughts beating time 
 to something in his head, and some of the 
 anxieties of real life returned. He could 
 carry himself along now in his studies, and 
 probably through his college course, without 
 incurring debts; but it had been his fondl} 7 
 cherished purpose to educate his sister Jane. 
 It would be a proud day for him when he 
 could place her in Park Avenue Seminary ; 
 but that day seemed no nearer than ever. 
 Poor Jennie would have to wait. Meantime, 
 " poor Jennie," teaching school at small 
 wages, and with a purpose of her own, wax 
 waiting, bravely and patiently.
 
 316 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE, AND SOME STRANGE DE- 
 VELOPMENTS. 
 
 Some rocks of gold the earthquakes break; 
 
 Sea-amber comes in storms ashore. 
 Death's lightning aimed at human wreck, 
 
 May flash from heaven one mercy more. 
 
 ANOH 
 
 TTALE! Hale! Hale!" 
 
 The far, well-known cry rang out on 
 the night air, mingled with the soughing of 
 the trees, the cry always raised by the 
 students in any sudden broil with the roughs 
 of the city, and which never failed to bring 
 " all college " to their aid. " Hale ! Hale ! 
 Hale ! " Hardy sprang to his feet and lis- 
 tened. He had a front Senior room in North
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 317 
 
 College now, and peering from his window 
 over the murky and dimly-lanterned campus, 
 he could catch the sounds that came up Meet- 
 ing Street and across the Common. There 
 could be no mistake : it was the old uni- 
 versity rally-cry. There was trouble outside. 
 It was late in November, and Hardy, after 
 a vacation spent in lucrative labor, had come 
 to the duties of his last year, and been for 
 nearly eleven weeks devoting himself to his 
 studies, his seminary class, and his sister. 
 For, discovering that she had saved a con- 
 siderable sum from her little earnings, he 
 had decided (with some trembling) to take 
 Jane with him to Ke'w Harbor, and place 
 her in Park Avenue School. Signs of de- 
 cided improvement in the condition and 
 spirit of his relatives at Fenwick Falls, on 
 his brief summer visit there, had greatly 
 pleased and cheered him. He was under- 
 taking much ; but Providence had smiled
 
 318 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 upon him and he was sitting to-night in 
 his room, late at work, but with a heart at 
 peace. The sound of war broke in upon 
 him rudely and strangely. 
 
 " Hale ! Hale ! Hale ! " louder and nearer 
 it came, and he could hear voices in fierce 
 altercation, and the rush and surge of riot 
 in the streets. Tearing off his study-gown, 
 he threw on his coat and cap, and ran down 
 the stairs. Hundreds of feet were now 
 tramping through the halls, and forth from 
 all the entries of the old " brick row." It 
 was past eleven o'clock, but all college was 
 awake and astir. Several panting Sopho- 
 mores leaped into the 'campus, coming after 
 their revolvers. 
 
 "What's up, fellows?" 
 
 " Townies." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Firemen row." 
 
 And, unable to gather any more informa-
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 319 
 
 tion. the crowd rushed on. But every one 
 knew now pretty well what the* trouble 
 was. i There had been a feud gathering for 
 some time between students and city fiia- 
 men. Some insult, when the former hap 
 pened to be passing an engine-house singing 
 college songs, had provoked it, and feelings 
 of extreme irritation existed between the 
 parties. 
 
 To-night fifty or sixty of the more idle 
 and reckless of the college boys (the only 
 sort, by the way, who ever got into serious 
 difficulties with the " townies ") had gone to 
 the theatre in a body. They had some fresh 
 affront to avenge, and of course their ap- 
 pearance in force invited hostility from the 
 other side. The firemen, and a rabble of 
 roughs, gathered in and around the theatre, 
 outnumbering them four to one. The man- 
 ner of the town boys and " gown boys " to- 
 ward each other was not calculated to cool
 
 320 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 
 
 bad blood. Circumstances, place, and com- 
 pany all combined to precipitate a fight. 
 The captain of the police, learning the situ- 
 ation, came himself to the spot with an extra 
 detail of men to try and keep the peace. 
 By his advice the students, when the play 
 was over, waited for the . clearing of the 
 house, and then marched out together, two 
 by two, the officers making a lane for them 
 through the cursing, threatening throng. 
 They passed up the sidewalk along Meeting 
 Street, headed by the police captain, and 
 followed by the firemen and rowdies jeering, 
 hooting, and occasionally throwing stones. 
 They had gone more than half way to the 
 college buildings, keeping their rage under 
 discreet restraint, when, passing the Grove 
 Street gate of the town common, their leader 
 struck up " Gaudeamus" All instantly 
 joined in, rolling forth the song with defiant 
 voices, ttud timing with their feet as they
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 321 
 
 marched. This exasperated the mob to fury, 
 and disregarding the police, they rushed 
 upon the sidewalk and began the battle. 
 Then rose the college rally-cry. Savage 
 blows fell thick on assailants and assailed, 
 and in a moment the street was a babel 
 of angry shouts and noises, and struggling 
 of maddened men. When Hardy and t-ho 
 crowd of collegians with him reached the 
 scene, the battle was at its height, and the 
 crack of pistol-shots had begun to give a 
 deadly meaning to the tumult. " Keep back 1 
 keep back ! " cried the police captain, seeiinr 
 them hurrying in to take sides with f! 
 assailed students. "Keep back! Fighting 
 here can only make matters worse. Get into 
 the college buildings, all of you, as soon as 
 you can ! " and he and his men made frantic 
 efforts to tear the combatants apart. Sud- 
 denly two of the church - bells began to 
 ring a fire-alarm. Some desperadoes had 
 21
 
 322 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 broken in through the windows and got at 
 the ropes. The rabble in the street rapidly 
 increased in numbers hundreds upon hun- 
 dreds. More policemen arrived, but they 
 were all too few to put the rioters down. 
 By this time several, both of the students 
 and the townies, were hurt, and a few quite 
 badly (though the pistol-shots had mostly 
 been fired into the air) ; but it was not till 
 the yell of "man Tolled I" broke from the 
 heart of the mob, as one of the rioters was 
 seen to leap from the sidewalk and lall in the 
 street, that there was any slacking of hos- 
 tilities. Hardy had only time to see them 
 take up the supposed dead man, and to no- 
 tice how singularly like Horace Godwin ons 
 of the bearers looked, when he was hurried 
 away by a policeman. 
 
 The exertions of the captain and his of- 
 ficers had secured the escape of the students 
 dunii the momentary lull in the fight. That
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 323 
 
 was all they could do. The rage of the 
 firemen and their confederates burst forth 
 in tenfold violence. Blood had been shed 
 by .a student, and their cry now was for 
 " revenge ! " They rushed in pursuit of the 
 college-boys, but these had, most of them, 
 fled into " Old South/' and barricaded the 
 door. Hardy went to his room accompanied 
 by Calvin and Whately. The mob raged 
 and cursed, and in a minute the word went 
 round to " get the cannon, and batter the 
 college down." A detachment flew to the 
 gun-house of the artillery company, broke 
 down the door, seized two field-pieces and 
 loaded them, and dragged them up before 
 South College. The utmost exertions of the 
 policemen could only prevent them from 
 discharging the guns at once, for the wild 
 rabble were lost to reason like so many 
 beasts. But during the brief delay and con- 
 fusion the brave officers climbed upon the
 
 324 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 cannon and attempted to spike them, in which 
 they partially succeeded. And now the 
 mayor of the citj r arrived at the scene of 
 the disturbance, and standing upon one of the 
 guns, made a speech to the rioters, warning 
 them of the consequences of violence, and 
 promising redress where any had been 
 wrongod. But even the presence and words 
 of the chief magistrate could not quell the 
 blind fury of that ignorant mass of men. It- 
 remained for a Power higher than the mayor 
 to send a stay to their desperate proceed- 
 ings. A sudden fall of rain struck them 
 while fiercely endeavoring to clear the vents 
 of the guns, and growling with baffled ha- 
 tred, they began to retire. The cannon were 
 seized by order of the mayor and taken 
 away, the police arrested some of the ring- 
 leaders of the riot ; and by two o'clock the 
 streets were clear. And here we leave the 
 great emeute, and its causes and the blame 
 of it . to be settled by the courts.
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 325 
 
 Hardy, who had left his room again during 
 the excitement at the last terrible menace of 
 the mob. had just returned, and was undress- 
 ing to snatch a forlorn chance of sleep from 
 the waning hours of his most inquiet col- 
 lege night, when a knock on his door startled 
 him. " What now, at two o'clock in the 
 morning?" he muttered to himself in no 
 patient mood. His visitor was Horace God- 
 win, the marvellous walking polyglot who 
 had so astonished him on the evening of 
 Junior Exhibition. Hardy had no wish to 
 see him. He had begun to think of Godwin 
 as destitute of character, prodigy though he 
 was in learning. He knew he had lost the 
 place which his efforts had procured for him. 
 Without character, though he spoke the 
 tongues of angels, Godwin became to him 
 a mere unaccountable wizard of words. His 
 suspicion that he had seen him among the 
 rioters did not prepossess him any more in his
 
 326 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 favor. A man who kept such company 
 But Hardy did not take the time thinking all 
 this that - I take in telling it. All reflections 
 that might have found room in his mind at 
 another time were now resolved into the 
 single wonder what in the world Godwin 
 wanted. 
 
 " I believe 1 saw you some two hours ago, 
 Mr. Godwin," he said. 
 
 " If you mean in this unfortunate affair of 
 the riot, yes," replied Godwin with perfect 
 courtesy. " I was a passer-by, on the side- 
 walk, when the students came out, and an 
 astonished witness when the trouble began. 
 A man was hurt, and I gave my assistance.'' 
 
 " He was not killed, then." said Hardy, 
 quickly. 
 
 " No. But I must hasten to my errand. 
 This man now lies in the hospital, in a dying 
 condition, as the surgeons fear. The stab 
 was a deep and dangerous one, and it will 
 be a wonder if "
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 327 
 
 " A stab ! I supposed the man was shot I " 
 cried Hardy. 
 
 " No ; a sword-cane stab, clear as a lancet- 
 cut. But to my errand. This man gave his 
 name as 'Silas Hardy/ and knowing you, 
 and prompted perhaps by something in his 
 appearance, I named you to him, when he 
 immediately expressed an eager wish to see 
 you. He says he is your brother. Tt may be 
 all a mistake, but I could do no less than 
 curry the request of a man who believes 
 himself to be dying. Good night, sir." 
 
 If Hardy had been called upon to de- 
 scribe the revulsion in his feelings at that 
 moment, he would have needed a month of 
 recollection. Half stunned with surprise, 
 and shame, and fear, and wounded affection, 
 he moved mechanically about, and before he 
 really knew what he was doing he found 
 himself dressed and wrapped, and walking 
 out into the wet and windy darkness. No
 
 328 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 sleep for Nicholas Hardy that night. Would 
 there be any more sleep for Silas Hardy till 
 he slept the sleep that knows no waking ? " 
 
 Nicholas reached the hospital none too 
 soon. Only the fact that the wounded man 
 was calling for him procured him admission 
 to his bedside. Gazing at the bearded, 
 rough-looking patient, it seemed to him that 
 (as Godwin hinted) there must be some ab- 
 surd mistake, he hoped there was. ' He 
 could catch no resemblance, nor recognize 
 a single feature that he had ever known ; 
 and though the man's hollow eyes rested oil 
 him longingly, he heaved a deep breath of 
 relief as he persuaded himself that none of 
 his own flesh and blood lay there. Then, 
 with a strange gleam of intelligence in his 
 face, the patient put out his hand. Nicholas 
 came nearer, and leaned over him. He must 
 Bay sour.; tiling. 
 
 " Are i/o<i -my brother Silas ? "
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 829 
 
 The man slowly turned over his right hand 
 that lay in Nicholas' own, and pointed with 
 the forefinger of his left to a long scar across 
 the knuckles. It was the mark of a severe 
 hurt that Silas had received in the mill 
 when he was a boy. Nicholas gazed, and 
 grew sick at heart. This, then, was his 
 lost brother ! restored to him only when 
 stricken with death, and in a street brawl, 
 too ! How could be prepare him for his end? 
 Was there a chaplain at the hospital? In 
 sorrowful haste, he tried to select a few fit 
 words, bending closer to the pallid face, 
 where his eye now began to trace some of 
 the old tokens. But the signs of fatal faint- 
 ness showed him that it was too late. Poor 
 Silas made a convulsive effort to speak, but 
 the three words "Search my clothes," 
 were all that Nicholas could seize. Medical 
 aid summoned back a little life at last, but 
 the sufferer a \voko wild and incoherent.
 
 330 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Nicholas remained till sunrise. It was as- 
 tonishing, the superintending surgeon said 
 that the man survived so long such fearful 
 loss of blood. A search of Silas' clothes re- 
 vealed the mark of his name, a little money, 
 a hotel check, a seven-barrelled shouter, and 
 two little bags of gold-dust sewed inside the 
 lining of his waistband. There were other 
 pocket-trifles, but more suggestive rum val- 
 uable. Taken with other hints babbled in 
 his delirium, they confessed to a manner of 
 life of which no man could be proud. At 
 sunrise the patient fell into a slumber, and 
 when Nicholas inquired, the surgeon told him 
 there might be time to go and bring his 
 sister. 
 
 The heavy tidings startled and grieved 
 Jane more than it had himself. The riot of 
 the previous night had excited Park Avenue 
 school, as all the rest of the city, and many 
 eager question-; were asked; but, save the
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 331 
 
 Principal (whom it was wisest to inform " in 
 confidence " at once), none learned that the 
 " man killed " in the Meeting Street fray was 
 a brother of Jane and Nicholas Hardy. 
 Their standing could suggest no connection 
 with a midnight brawler who happened to 
 bear their family name, and the newspapers 
 did not take the trouble to identify his visi- 
 tors at the hospital. 
 
 It was nine o'clock when the brother and 
 sister stood together by Silas' bedside. They 
 found him alive, and rational, though ex- 
 ceedingly weak ; and the surgeon, as much 
 surprised as they, ventured to say that he 
 had " some hope of him." " With an un- 
 impaired constitution," he remarked aside to 
 Nicholas, with a meaning look, " I could 
 freely predict now that so young and natu- 
 rally strong a man would pull through." 
 
 The interview was necessarily a short 
 one, and the pitiont could not be allowed to
 
 332 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 talk, but his pleasure at meeting Nicholas 
 and Jane, and knowing that they were both 
 in the city, and that he would be in a man- 
 ner under their care, soothe^ iiim in his 
 helplessness, and made more nearly possible 
 his physical recovery and his moral re- 
 covery, too. 
 
 As the brother and sister were leaving the 
 hospital they were met by the aged clergy- 
 man whom Nicholas first saw at the " Fair- 
 hope Quarterly." He was not a regular hos- 
 pital chaplain, but he made frequent visits to 
 this and similar places, carrying words of 
 holy counsel and consolation, and everywhere- 
 welcomed as a man of God. Nicholas greeted 
 him warmly, introduced his sister, and imme- 
 diately explained their errand, and confided 
 to him their unhappy brother's case. Both 
 they and Silas had reason for thanksgivings, 
 afterwards, to the kind destiny which brought 
 this reverend man and the sick prodigal to- 
 gether.
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 333 
 
 Christmas came, and New Year's - and 
 Silas Hardy not only lived, but took nourish- 
 ment, and was able to' sit up in bed, and read 
 a little, and talk. During all the tedious 
 weeks, while his soul and body clung to- 
 gether by a thread, Jane and Nicholas tended 
 him alternately, every hour of their time 
 out of study, watching with him by night 
 when he was at the worst, and lightening his 
 weary and remorseful convalescence with 
 many ministries of love and . hope. His 
 mother, who was early sent for, had been 
 to see him, and also two of his sisters, from 
 Fenwick Falls ; but staying in New Harbor 
 would be expensive for them, and when the 
 promise of Silas' recovery seemed fair, they 
 were content to be 'assured that Nicholas and 
 Jane could sufficiently care and provide for 
 
 
 
 him. 
 
 .By degrees, as he was able, the returned 
 wanderer told the story of his life during his
 
 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 long absence, and as his heart opened and 
 softened to kind attentions and purifying in- 
 fluences, he confessed his many wrecks, and 
 owned his humiliation at leaving his youth 
 behind him, a wasted opportunity. For two 
 years he had followed the sea, and then, in- 
 fatuated with ideas of sudden wealth, went 
 to the Nevada gulches to hunt for gold. But 
 the daily contact with drunkards and game- 
 sters developed his worst instincts, and all 
 the gold he gathered he lost in dissipation 
 and play. He hired himself out as a ma- 
 chinist at high wages, and could have 
 made himself rich, but au insane faith in 
 luck tempted him to the faro banks, till his 
 money was gambled away as fast as he made 
 it. He would not write to his friends and 
 kin till he could astonish them with tidings 
 of his great fortune, and waiting for this he 
 had never written at all. He had his fits of 
 compunction aud self-disgust, when he could
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 335 
 
 flee clearly how deeply his habits of drink- 
 ing and gaming debased him, and how they 
 kept him from getting on in the world ; and 
 repeatedly he had sworn to mend, but the 
 return of opportunity and temptation only 
 proved his weakness the same. At last, re- 
 solving to flee the country and begin a wan- 
 dering life again, he had accumulated a little 
 gold by running a quartz-mill at the mines, 
 and managing to keep this, made his way to 
 the coast, where he shipped as a common 
 sailor. Landing in New York, he had wasted 
 his ship-money in a week of fast living, and 
 then recklessly embarked on a boat, going 
 he neither knew nor cared where. He had 
 found himself in New Harbor with next to 
 nothing left besides the two little bags of 
 dust stitched in his clothing. His night at 
 the theatre with a gang of new drinking-com- 
 panions had ended well-nigh in sending him 
 to a deathbed.
 
 336 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 "See me here," he said sadly, "a wreck at 
 twenty-seven ! Ah, Nick, it was always with 
 you and I as with ' Seth and Tim,' in the 
 ' Loafer's Lament ' in the old reading-book : 
 
 ' Seth, night and day, drank knowledge in, 
 And stored his mind from near and far, 
 While I learned how to guzzle gin, 
 And how to pick a good cigar.' 
 
 And this is what it has brought me to. 
 Many a time I have undertaken to reform, 
 and started with a desperate burst of virtue, 
 but I came out worse than ever, every time. 
 This last blow has brought me where I know 
 my soundings. It's either kill or cure now.'' 
 "God grant the cure!'' said Nicholas. 
 
 I have carried my hero through several 
 surprises astonishments, in fact since his 
 college life began ; but they were all short 
 m} r steries, soon explained. I am going to 
 relate a mystery now, for which there is no
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 337 
 
 explanation at present. Returning from 
 the hospital New Year's evening, Nicholas 
 stopped at the post-office and took out a letter 
 directed to him in an unknown hand, con- 
 taining a check, to his order, for five hundred 
 dollars ! Nick was non-plussed now, utterly 
 and hopelessly. The check was drawn ou a 
 New York bank, and signed with a namo he 
 had never heard of. Was it a sell on him? 
 Was it a forgery, or a trick to implicate him 
 in one? Was it meant for Silas instead of 
 himself, and sent there by some " honorable '' 
 rascal of his acquaintance to pay an old gam- 
 bling debt? Was it a downright, bona ficlo 
 New Year's present from some friend who 
 had taken a round-about way to hide his 
 tracks? And then he fell to work to think 
 up all his probable and possible friends. He 
 went that very evening to see Miss Tabitha 
 Magraw ; but she laughed, congratulated him, 
 and disclaimed all knowledge of it. Next 
 22
 
 338 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 day ho found out that there was such a bank 
 as the one named on the check, and then he 
 hunted up the only bank in the city that had 
 business with it (the old u Tradesmen's "), 
 and the cashier told him the check was a 
 genuine one. So it was not a "sell." He 
 carried the check to Silas, but Silas knew 
 nothing about it. "Keep it, Nick,' 1 he said. 
 " Jack's ' cherub that sits up aloft,' sent it to 
 pay you for taking care of me." 
 
 He directed a letter to "Paul Jellaby," 
 the signer, and " Paul Jellaby " wrote back, 
 kindly stating who he was, but adding, pro- 
 vokingly, " Beyond this I can give you no 
 information. I received orders and for- 
 warded the check accordingly." Of course 
 that ended all question of a "forgery." 
 
 Nick wrote to Squire Gammel next, but 
 the squire could give him no hint. Then 
 lie wrote to Dr. Pliny Norcross. The old 
 doct..r frankly confessed his ignorance of
 
 A MIDNIGHT BATTLE. 339 
 
 the whole thing, and only suggested, in his 
 peculiar way, " Didn't I tell you that old 
 wooden spoon would bring you luck ? " 
 
 Nick did not know where to make any 
 more inquiries, and he gave it up. This 
 was the way, then, that- he was to have 
 solved for him the problem of his sister's 
 education and his own, and of his new re- 
 sponsibility with his ne'er-do-well brother ! 
 But somehow he did not like to use that 
 check ; it felt in his fingers like goblin- 
 money. He would rather know whom he 
 was beholden to. He deposited the five 
 hundred dollars in the Tradesmen's Bank, 
 and concluded to let it alone.
 
 340 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 
 
 "And you may make, by means like these, 
 Five talents ten whene'er you please." 
 
 T"">ESIDES his relatives and the excellent 
 old chaplain, Silas Hardy had but one 
 other visitor while he lay in the hospital, and 
 that one only occasionally. The " pot-com; 
 panions '' of his theatre night had kept shy 
 of him since he got into trouble, but Horace 
 Godwin seemed to have conceived a friend- 
 ship for the wounded young sailor. This 
 was, perhaps, owing chiefly to the fact that 
 
 during his wanderings Silas had picked up 
 
 
 
 Spanish enough to be able to converse with 
 him in that tougue, and had once stopped 
 a short time in England, Godwin's native
 
 NICK STEAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 341 
 
 country. Nicholas, with his present ideas 
 of what Godwin was, suspecting rather a 
 sympathy of appetites and habits, was at 
 first inclined to think that, for two such men 
 to be together, even " occasionally " was too 
 often. He kept his misgivings to himself, 
 howerer ; and he was less disposed to com- 
 plain when he saw that Godwin amused and 
 entertained his brother, for the man's won- 
 derful information, and versatility, and con- 
 versational gift, made him charming company 
 for any who cared to listen more than talk. 
 Still, knowing his brother's weakness, he 
 disliked to see him brought at all under 
 the influence of one superior to himself, 
 whose free and somewhat " bohemian " no- 
 tions of life rendered him so unsafe a friend. 
 That the Englishman had shown his brother 
 humane attention in the hour of his injury 
 might be used as a privilege and give him 
 greater personal claim and power. He
 
 342 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 dreaded to think of Silas going forth into the 
 city, sound and well again, and being met 
 and greeted by Godwin with an invitation to 
 drink a glass of wine. It would be better 
 for Silas to die as he was, than to be thus 
 enticed and unmanned again when his bettei 
 nature had begun to triumph. Everything 
 depended, for some time to come, on the 
 influences he would follow, and the company 
 he would keep^ Once more tempted astray 
 and given to evil, his moral renewal (so it 
 seemed to Nicholas) would be beyond hope. 
 Poor Silas would go down lower than ever, 
 
 " Chained to excess, the slave of each extreme," 
 
 till overtaken by the inevitable ruin. 
 
 Horace Godwin was not a drunkard ; but 
 his principles were not of the kind to 
 strengthen and save weak Silas Hardy. 
 
 This uneasiness continued to disturb Nich- 
 olas as ol't en as the singular man visited his
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 343 
 
 brother and stayed to talk with him; and 
 whenever they spoke in Spanish, he felt the 
 more uncomfortable because he could not 
 take part in the conversation, nor understand 
 anything that was said. Under other cir- 
 cumstances he would have smiled at his own 
 jealousy. But his feeling- now was something 
 deeper than the mere selfish wish to have his 
 brother all to himself. He had set his heart 
 on saving his brother, and his sensitive 
 watchfulness could neither be wondered at 
 nor blamed. What could he do with God- 
 win? Could he hope to change hip princi- 
 ples? Could he find him occupation again 
 and gain a hold upon him by a new claim 
 of gratitude? Could he by any means get 
 him out of the city ? Or should he get 
 his brother out of the city, and out of his 
 way? He finally thought of Dr. Norcross, 
 and, thougn with no very clearly defined idea 
 of what he expected to accomplish, he wrote
 
 344 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 the old physician a letter, saying, il I've 
 got a man here whom you would like to 
 talk with, a prodigy of ancient learning," 
 <fec., &c. And following this was an account, 
 in some detail, of Godwin's marvellous ac- 
 complishments, his nationality, his academic 
 parentage, and his precarious life in this 
 country as a "scholar of fortune." 
 
 The time came when Silas Hardy must 
 leave the hospital and be provided for 
 elsewhere. " It has been a snug harbor to 
 me here. Keep a look-out for my poor craft 
 when I am outside," he said to the chaplain 
 the day before his discharge. 
 
 " That I shall," replied the good old man, 
 " but don't forget to keep your own look-out, 
 my son. There'll be pirates afloat, and I 
 hope you'll give them a wide berth; but you 
 can't always expect fair weather and a 
 smooth sea.
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 345 
 
 ' . . . "When the wave and the gale 
 Are around and above, if your footing should fail, 
 If your eye should grow dim, and your caution depart, 
 Look aloft, and be firm and be fearless of heart." " 
 
 {i I'll promise it ! A thousand thanks for 
 your friendship ! " exclaimed Silas with much 
 feeling, grasping the chaplain's hand. 
 
 With considerable pains Nicholas had made 
 an arrangement by which his brother and 
 sister could take lodgings, at moderate ex- 
 pense, in a locality where Jane could still 
 reach her daily recitations, and not be too 
 wearied after the little necessary " household 
 cares." Boarding themselves in this way, 
 she and Silas could help each other, and the 
 saving made by Jane's withdrawal from her 
 more costly quarters at the school would 
 nearly pay their rent. She was healthy and 
 strong, and being no stranger to hard work, 
 she did not mind the extra exertion, es- 
 pecially when she thought of the good it
 
 346 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 would do, for she was quite as heartily in- 
 terested as Nicholas in providing for the 
 restored brother's safety. Of course the little 
 that Silas had with him was made available 
 in money, and this was sufficient to support 
 him for a few weeks till he should be able 
 to earn something again. 
 
 "If you can't get along without me," said 
 Nicholas gayly, when they were nicely 
 settled, " I'll come and board here myself." 
 
 And in the meantime he charged himself 
 so far with the care of Silas' future, as to 
 watch and inquire for openings, and make 
 every effort to procure him a situation. 
 
 Silas Hardy was a changed man. The 
 entirely new life to which he had been intro- 
 duced, and the charm of a home attraction 
 
 
 
 which till now he had never really known 
 seemed to wean him completely from his wild 
 longings and his vicious tastes. His good 
 resolutions, to--, wore stronger and deeper 
 than his benefactors knc;\v.
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 347 
 
 " This is more heaven on earth than a 
 vagabond deserves," he said to Jane, sur- 
 veying the pretty fitting-up she had given 
 to their little rooms. " I went into the hos- 
 pital to die, but I am a live man yet, no 
 small thanks to Nick and you ! If ever a 
 fellow had a real resurrection in this world, 
 it's I, Jennie. I am an ungrateful dog if 
 it doesn't prove my double resurrection." 
 
 Nicholas brought him books, and he spent 
 most of his days of gaining health in reading. 
 This was a genuine novefty of enjoyment 
 to him, and at first he was like a delighted 
 boy over it. So the rest of winter passed, 
 and half the spring. Then his brother began 
 to take walks with him, and several times in 
 Nick's college-room he met the latter's two 
 favorite classmates, Matt Calvin and Bart 
 Whately. They were greatly pleased with 
 him, for, besides being a handsome man, 
 reformed in appearance and dress as well
 
 348 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 as in habits, his knowledge of the world, and 
 his exhaustless store of anecdotes and per- 
 sonal adventures, made him very enter- 
 taining. That he was the man stricken down 
 by the student's dagger-blow, in the street- 
 riot the previous fall, they never guessed. 
 At length, when he felt his health and 
 vigor almost complete, Silas began to chafe. 
 He was not one who ceuld long endure 
 the confinement of a student's life ; his mus- 
 cular energy craved fuller play. It became 
 useless to try to occupy his mind with 
 reading, or poring over his Spanish. Even 
 whittling curious ornaments of furniture for 
 his" sister's room ceased to divert him. That 
 might do for a sick man, but he was no longer 
 a sick man. So one day he put on his sailor 
 clothes, and went off to the wharves on 
 an exploring tour. Jane was somewhat con- 
 cerned not to see him home at dinner, and 
 in the afternoon, when Nicholas came to his
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 349 
 
 seminary class, she inquired if he knew where 
 he was. Nicholas had talked with Silas 
 about obtaining work, but nothing definite 
 had been fixed upon, and he had not dis- 
 covered how impatient his brother was. 
 He told Jane that he had probably gone 
 after employment, and he believed he would 
 come home all right, but he thought he 
 should have notified her. At nightfall he 
 went to Jane's lodgings, not without a slight 
 feeling of uneasiness; but very soon after 
 his arrival Silas came home. He was pretty 
 tired, and there were sooty traces on his 
 hands and face, notwithstanding an evident 
 attempt to wash himself. The look his 
 brother and sister gave him as he entered 
 brought out a smile which ran over in a 
 quiet laugh at some remark of Jane. He 
 had been down among the stevedores un- 
 loading coal ! He retired long enough to 
 give himself a thorough scrubbing and
 
 350 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 change his dress, and then re-entering, he 
 threw himself, with a long sigh, into an easy- 
 chair by the supper-table. 
 
 " Why, how fatigued you look 1 " said 
 both Nicholas and Jane. 
 
 " Fatigued and happy. I've found some- 
 thing to do," replied Silas. 
 
 Nicholas made a simple inquiry, and 
 learned that his brother had arranged to 
 be permanently employed at the wharves. 
 He did not betray his dissatisfaction at this 
 news, but talked it over quietly with him 
 while he ate his supper, and by the time 
 he had finished, and lain down on the lounge, 
 it did not need much logic to make him own 
 that he was still entirely unfit for the hard 
 labor he had been doing that day. But 
 Nicholas had more to say. To discuss the 
 company his brother should keep required 
 some diplomacy. Wheeling the easy-chair 
 to the side of the lounge, he seated him-
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 351 
 
 self in it, and elevated his feet quite com- 
 fortably upon a camp-stool, as if he intended 
 to spend the evening in hearing and telling 
 stories. 
 
 " You ought to rest three weeks yet," said 
 he. And with that and similar sympathetic 
 remarks by way of preamble, like a skilful 
 lawyer he laid out his ground, Jane putting 
 in an occasional word from where she sat 
 with comb and brush, coaxing the last dust 
 out of Silas' hair and beard. He led the 
 conversation over the past, recalling inci- 
 dents both sad and glad, in what seemed 
 a most desultory way, but drawing from his 
 brother the very expressions he wished to 
 hear, till they naturally came to talk of his 
 sudden appearance in New Harbor and the 
 strange providence of their meeting, of the 
 long waiting between life and death, the debt 
 of his happy recovery, the resolutions of his 
 sick and suffering hours, and the better
 
 352 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 reason that these should be kept than that 
 they should ever have been made. Silas 
 spoke freely and earuestly, and sometimes 
 Nicholas gave him the largest share of the 
 dialogue. They talked of their friend the 
 venerable clergyman, and reviewed all they 
 knew of the good and the bad in Horace 
 Godwin, accounting with perfect agreement 
 for his waste of his splendid possibilities, and 
 echoing each other's thought that a single 
 careless weakness could ruin a life and make 
 an angel fall. An ingenious suggestion from 
 Nicholas turned the point and made the 
 application personal again, and unconscious 
 of condemning his own late choice, Silas 
 admitted that the safety of his heart de- 
 pended largely on where he put his head. 
 
 "Just so," said Nicholas. "A head with 
 the tiger's scar on it is too wise to go into the 
 lion's mouth, I should think." 
 
 " But," <aid Silas, a little nettled to find
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS 353 
 
 how he had been argued up to a confession 
 of his foolishness, " I can't be idle ; I'd rather 
 die than " 
 
 " You said, just now, you had better have 
 died than to run any more risks," interrupted 
 Nicholas. 
 
 " Well, have it your way. I suppose I'm 
 caught," said Silas. 
 
 " Idleness is bad enough, goodness knows," 
 continued Dick, " but, for a new-reformed 
 man, between idleness and work in bad com- 
 pany, it's a choice between the devil and the 
 deep sea. Some of those Manson Wharf 
 stevedores were concerned in the Novem- 
 ber riot. I wonder you weren't recognized 
 down there." 
 
 " I was. How in the world did you guess 
 that? " exclaimed Silas, laughing. 
 
 "I didn't guess," said Nick, "but it's 
 natural to suppose that when a man 
 to Turkey he'll find Turks." 
 23
 
 354 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " There were two of them that knew me," 
 continued Silas, " and at noon-lunch they 
 insisted on treating me to whiskey ; but I 
 neither drank, nor felt an inclination to drink 
 with them. But you are right, Nick 1 I 
 acknowledge I felt ashamed of my company, 
 and a burnt brand should keep away from the 
 fire. I'll quit wharf- work, and wait for some- 
 thing to turn up." 
 
 " Something lias turned up," laughed Nich- 
 olas. 
 
 And then he went on, with perhaps more 
 proud pleasure than he had ever felt before 
 in his -life, to tell him his plan. How different 
 this (he thought as he glanced at his listening 
 brother's face) from the Silas of four months 
 ago 1 of four years, six years yes, ten years 
 agol That very day Nicholas had learned 
 of an excellent situation which would be 
 open the 10th of May (three weeks later), 
 in a large machine-shop. * The proprietor to
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 355 
 
 whose favor, as the husband of one of the 
 ladies of her Fair-hope Band, " the countess " 
 Magraw had paved the way for her student 
 friend, was a prominent manufacturer of the 
 city, a gentleman of high character, who 
 employed in his business none but " tem- 
 perance men." Nicholas proposed that his 
 brother should see Mr. Lego the next day, 
 secure the place, and then spend the inter- 
 vening time, or a part of it, in a visit at 
 Fenwick Falls. " "We three can make up 
 a purse for that trip, and not break us," he 
 said pleasantly. 
 
 Silas was too grateful to offer any objection 
 to this. He lay thinking, while the delighted 
 Jane, still smoothing his hair, conversed 
 about the plan in' low tones with her younger 
 brother. The city clocks struck nine, and 
 Nicholas went out softly, leaving Silas asleep. 
 
 Horace Godwin had not appeared to our
 
 356 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 friends for more than two months, and 
 Nicholas began to think of the " absurd 
 letter " (as he chose to call it) which he 
 had written to Dr. Norcross. Was it possible 
 that any notice had been taken of it ? His 
 doubts were set at rest when one day, just 
 after Silas had left the city for Fenwick Falls, 
 he received a long letter from the old doctor 
 full of amusing and extravagant happiness. 
 
 "Your friend Godwin is an Admirable 
 Crichton, a Mezzofauti, a second Dr. Parr, 
 a masculine Scheherazade, an incarnate 
 Arabian Night, a whole classical library 
 in trousers ! " so the old man ran on. 
 ..." I have got him a place in the High- 
 town Academy a chartered institution now, 
 by the way, (been growing ever since you 
 gave it a start,) with an upper and lower 
 grade, and three teachers. Godwin is As- 
 sistant in Languages (that's what they call 
 it) ; but don't he make the Principal and Pre-
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 357 
 
 ceptress stare ! He can make grammar for 
 himself if the book comes short, and he can 
 beat Virgil on his own Latin ! . . . He has 
 been here six weeks, and I've been pumping 
 him all that time, but, land o' Homer ! he's 
 a living spring, and as fresh to-day as ever ! 
 . . . Godwin boards with me, and we sit up 
 all night, sometimes, talking and disputing 
 on the ^Eolic Digamma, and the verbs in Mi. 
 . . . How in wonder did this magician hap- 
 pen to come to you, you young Aladdin? 
 1 shall lay it to the luck of the Wooden 
 Spoon ! You must have rubbed that old 
 bowl one day, and called the fellow up," 
 
 &C., &C.j &C. 
 
 Nick read the letter through, and laid it 
 down, laughing heartily. Then he com- 
 mented, growing half serious. 
 
 " It is fortunate that I got that strange be- 
 ing out of the city so soon. Such a fearfully 
 gifted genie might have laid a spell on Silas."
 
 358 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 However well-founded Nick's misgivings 
 of danger to his brother from Godwin's in- 
 fluence may have been, it is certain (as he 
 afterwards knew) that there was but one 
 secret understanding between the two men. 
 Horace Godwin was a witness to the stabbing 
 of the sailor Silas Hardy, on the night of the 
 riot. Welcomed for his fascinating abilities 
 and marvellous learning to the company of 
 college boys, and to the convivialities of a 
 certain set, he had become acquainted with 
 many of them, and he knew the one who 
 gave the dagger-thrust. Probably he was 
 the only man outside of college who knew. 
 It was of this knowledge, and the possible 
 use of it, that he and Silas were speaking 
 when they conversed together in Spanish. 
 It was agreed by them that nothing should be 
 said. And so, when the legal investigation 
 of the matter was made, not a witness could 
 be found. It was not till after the author
 
 NICK STEAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 359 
 
 of the deed had left college (without his 
 diploma) and was a thousand miles away, 
 that Silas told his brother in confidence the 
 name of the Southern student, one of Nick's 
 own class, who, " in self- defence," had so 
 nearly made an end of him. 
 
 The Hardys at Feriwick Falls gave their 
 wanderer a genuine, homespun greeting 
 when he came among them again, and when 
 he saw how honestly glad they were, he 
 realized that it was better to return humble 
 than to return rich. But what a change 
 since he went away ! Sue and Phoebe 
 matrons with children of their own ; Annette 
 married ; Sally, the careless romp, grown 
 to a trim and tidy young woman, and already 
 " spoken " to a certain farmer's son with 
 prospects; the boy Jerry a foot taller, and 
 fledged into a fine beau j father and mother 
 good-humored, portly, and comfortable ; the
 
 360 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 house neat, and painted, and peaceable, with 
 a clean garden and a new fence ! It seemed 
 to Silas as if every one of the family, and 
 every thing in and around the old dwelling, 
 had somehow ripened out of ragged and 
 reckless childhood since he saw them last. 
 Where had all the wrinkled worry, and noisy 
 bickering and snarling gone? He was 
 pleased, too, to hear how every one quoted 
 brother Nick. It was " Nick didn't " or 
 " wouldn't like this," or " Nick thought we 
 had better do that/' or " Nick advised us 
 to have such-and-such,'*' or " Nick wants 
 it to be so-and-so," or " Nick says," or 
 " Nick knows," or " Nick will/' or " Nick 
 can;" and evidently brother Nick was the 
 oracle of the family. 
 
 Saul Hardy, looking with pride on his 
 handsome sou Silas, and listening to him with 
 wonder while he smoked his pipe, broke out 
 once, in spite of himself, and told how it was.
 
 NICK STEAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. , 361 
 
 " Wife, here's some more o' Nick's work ! " 
 " Nick's and Jane's," said Silas, knowing 
 that his father meant him, and that he knew 
 what he had been. 
 
 " Yes ; and Jane is his work, too, pretty 
 much only in a different way. Used to 
 call him the scamp o' the whole brood, but I'll 
 be hanged if he ain't the missionary, and we 
 needed one." 
 
 " What say you to a holiday sail . ? " asked 
 Matt Calvin of Nicholas one beautiful day in 
 early May, soon after Silas returned from 
 his visit. 
 
 " Just the thing," replied Nicholas, " if 
 we can get the right kind of a party. Bart 
 will go, won't he 1 " 
 
 " No ; he's shut up, working out prize 
 problems the old dig ! " 
 
 " Well, I've worked all winter on my prize 
 problems," laughed Nicholas, " and I deserve
 
 362 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 a day out. So little recreation as I've given 
 myself for the last five months, a snatch 
 of sport will be a godsend." 
 
 " You're right, Prince Hal," quoth Cajvin 
 ever ready with his Shakspeare. 
 
 'If all the year were playing holidays, 
 To play would be as tedious as to work; 
 "But now, what seldom comes unlocked for conies, 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents!'" 
 
 And so, to make a long story short, a 
 sailing party was made up for that after- 
 noon, consisting of Calvin, Nicholas, his 
 brother Silas, his sister Jane, and two of 
 her intimate friends from the seminary, one 
 of which was Miss Nellie Lincoln. They 
 took fishing-tackle with them, and a plain 
 bread lunch and some simple culinary con- 
 veniences, intending to land at Salton Rock 
 and fry fish. Silas managed the boat, and 
 in his skilful hands it went down the harbor 
 like a sea-bird. Jane, with Calvin's help,
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 363 
 
 succeeded in hauling in a splendid blue-fish, 
 for which exploit she was extravagantly 
 applauded. But luck was rather coquettish 
 to the rest, and when waiting for bites 
 became too slow sport, the party sailed gayly 
 round to Salton Rock, and went ashore for 
 their little picnic. 
 
 They made a merry dinner, and then so 
 fast consumed their sociable but uneventful 
 time, clambering, running, picking lichens, 
 and hunting for hepaticas in the grove, that 
 when Silas called them together again they 
 could hardly believe it was time to go. 
 
 "There's going to be a fog," said he, 
 "otherwise we could stay for the moon- 
 shine." 
 
 They all went down to the landing, Nicho- 
 las watching his brother's face. Before they 
 embarked he whispered to him, If there's 
 any risk we'd better go home on the cars/' 
 glancing at the ladies. But Silas thought
 
 364 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 there was no danger if they got off at once ; 
 and very soon the party were in the boat 
 and at sea again, Nicholas at the tiller, Silas 
 holding the boom- guy, and Calvin and the 
 girls stowed amidships. 
 
 " Hard-a-lee ! " shouted Silas to Nick. 
 
 " Hardy lee ! " laughed Calvin and the 
 girls, and away they went, pinging : 
 
 "Where Pollux sails and Castor steers, 
 We'll fly and float a hundred years." 
 
 The homeward sailing was not so swift 
 and easy, for they worked to windward, 
 luffing and tacking all the way back to the 
 harbor mouth ; but they got along bravely, 
 singing college-songs (which the ladies knew 
 perfectly well), or shouting with laughter at 
 Calvin's jokes, till the fog began to thicken. 
 Rapidly, alarmingly, all over sea and shore 
 gathered the mantling mist, and the day grew 
 dark, for the sun was almost down. They
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS. 365 
 
 rounded the headland, and Silas was getting 
 his last bearings to run in, when the wind 
 suddenly seemed to shift, almost jibing the 
 sail in spite of him, and then it died away 
 entirely. There was a scream from one of 
 the ladies. The jaw-rope had caught her 
 back-hair. Calvin, incautiously jumping up, 
 had his hat knocked off by the boom. At 
 that moment a roaring sound to seaward 
 turned every head abaft, and they saw 
 glaring through the fog the headlight of 
 a great steamboat ! It was bearing directly 
 down upon them, and they could not get 
 out of the way ! 
 
 " She don't see us 1 " cried Silas. " We 
 must raise a fire somehow I " 
 
 There was a hurried search for paper, but 
 not a piece could be found. Despair sat 
 on every face. The steamer would certainly 
 sink them. 
 
 " Give me a match, quick I " shrieked Nellie
 
 366 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Lincoln, at the same instant snapping a cord 
 in some mysterious part of her dress. The 
 great steamer came thundering on almost 
 upon them ! Silas, Calvin, and Nick yelled 
 " ahoy ! ahoy 1 " at the top of their voices, 
 but just then a bright blaze shot up from 
 the little boat, and they heard the clang 
 of the steamer-pilot's bell. The engine was 
 reversed, the great wheels backed water, 
 but the momentum carried the black bows 
 
 almost over the little sailboat where Nellie 
 
 
 
 stood on one of the thwarts waving her 
 blazing torch in the face of death. They 
 were saved. 
 
 When all danger was past, and they 
 were out of the way of larger craft, working 
 up to the regatta- wharf with a hatful of wind, 
 the reaction from fear to joy awakened the 
 silenced voices of the fair passengers, and 
 they broke into half hysterical screams of 
 laughter. The idea of a lady's bustle
 
 NICK STRAIGHTENS OUT THINGS 367 
 
 stopping a steamboat ! Was there ever any- 
 thing so droll? 
 
 "... What seldom comes unlooked-for comes, 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents," 
 
 said Nicholas, quoting back to Calvin. " You 
 are a brave girl, Nellie," he added aside to 
 the heroine of the moment, " you are good 
 for both storm and calm." 
 
 The rest of the party heard it, and would 
 have given three cheers, but Nellie told 
 them to stop their noise.
 
 368 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 
 
 "Fast flew the weeks : on golden wheels of ease, 
 By classic turnpike, through Pierian trees, 
 The lazy Seniors rode to their degrees." 
 
 PHIS interesting tristicb appeared one 
 evening in the " Nipper," a saucy semi- 
 occasional sheet, through the medium of 
 whose columns the unterrified democracy of 
 the college got their opinions and observa- 
 tions into print. Now that the premonitory 
 thunders of campaign time had begun to 
 rumble again, it came out every week. The 
 next issue contained the same, and three 
 lines more printed under them. 
 
 "With logic spread to cheat the college-guards, 
 In sanctum, or upon the grassy yards, 
 The Juniors wrote lore-letters, and played cards."
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 369 
 
 This was presumably a return shot, and 
 as it left the parties pretty even, the thing 
 was not personal enough to go farther. But 
 the next week's issue suggested that some 
 sore Freshman had been aching for a good 
 opportunity to hit off his old "hazing" en- 
 emies. 
 
 " In horrid club-den, and by college-door, 
 Singing old didos, or debating more, 
 The window-breaking Sophomores smoked and swore." 
 
 And promptly, under a reprint of this trip- 
 let, came out, the following week : 
 
 "Tortured by these in Learning's noble cause, 
 The Freshmen chased the bell with books in paws, 
 Or hid themselves, and crammed the college laws." 
 
 This sort of caricature, good-naturedly taken 
 by one college class from another, becomes 
 a slander when repeated, as it too often is, 
 for a true description of student life and 
 character at our universities. The career 
 24
 
 370 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 of Nicholas Hardy, who certainly was not a 
 " lazy " Senior, nor a shirking Junior, nor 
 a wicked Sophomore, nor a foolish Freshman, 
 is by no means an exception. So far from 
 being an uncommon student, his likes and 
 equals are much more numerous than his 
 unlikes and inferiors. The exceptions are 
 those few whose want of principle and self- 
 respect unfits them to be in college, or 
 anywhere else save in a penitentiary. Such 
 are generally weeded out of their class 
 before graduation, if not before Senior year. 
 There are Home who fall out by inability to 
 keep pace with their fellows in scholarship, 
 some who shorten or cripple their course 
 by sentimental entanglements ; some who in- 
 cur discipline through sheer thoughtlessness, 
 or boyish excess of fun ; many who take no 
 " honors " ; but the cynical critic must find 
 worse representatives than these to justify 
 his judgment that the average college student
 
 IN BIGHT OF THE LAST MILE- STONE. 371 
 
 is a scamp. The example of Nicholas Hardy 
 is set before boys and young men who are 
 looking forward to a liberal course of study, 
 with the assurance that in college they can 
 imitate his manliness, his pure-mindedness 
 and honest purpose, and even his struggles 
 with indigence and discouraging home con- 
 nections, and find plenty of good company. 
 And from this I go on again with my hero's 
 story. 
 
 Nicholas counted it his best Senior triumph 
 to be the winner of one of the five Hamilton 
 prizes. These were bestowed for distin- 
 guished excellence, not in the occult sci- 
 ences, not in Latin or Greek, but in the 
 English language, the mother-tongue of eighty 
 living millions, in -which our future lawyer 
 expected to do his life-work and win his 
 influence and reputation among men. -He 
 had the more reason to be proud of this 
 triumph because he had been obliged to
 
 372 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 finish his prize treatise with the trouble of 
 his brother on his mind, and the care of him 
 on his hands ; and to accomplish it all with 
 out lowering his scholarly standing was no 
 ordinary victory. He had worked hard 
 fatiguingly, exhaustingly hard, but it paid. 
 To be a Hamilton prize-man was to carry 
 a kind of high official indorsement to his 
 practical talents, and to his general culture 
 as well ; for all his classic and scientific drill 
 had contributed to, and showed itself in, the 
 style and richness of the language which 
 was to be his instrument of usefulness and 
 power. Possessing this, he could be content 
 to let others bear away the medal for Elo- 
 quence, the Resident Scholarships, the Astro- 
 nomical premiums, and the class honors of 
 Editor, Orator, Poet, and Historian. Of the 
 class historian and his duties I shall haye 
 more to say before this chapter ends.
 
 m SIGHT OF THE LAST MILE-STONE. 373 
 
 " Did you ever find out who sent you 
 that five hundred dollar check?" asked Silas 
 of his brother shortly after his return from 
 home. He had begun work in Mr. Lego's 
 machine-shop, but still boarded with his sis- 
 ter, and Nicholas was at their lodgings, on 
 one of his frequent calls. 
 
 " No," said Nicholas. " Why, have you 
 learned anything new?" 
 
 He had long half mistrusted that Miss 
 Tabitha Magraw had some intelligence, or at 
 least some theory about that singular matter, 
 beyond what she chose to disclose. He 
 could not forget her tilling him that she 
 had " written to the Hanfords," and that she 
 had found papers in the old cabinet which 
 mo one but herself should see. 
 
 " While I was at home," said Silas, " I met 
 and talked with a man who said his name 
 was Gaines." 
 
 " I know Mr. Gaines," said Nicholas
 
 374 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 
 " Yes ; he said he knew you, and that yon 
 
 saved his boy's life." 
 
 " And he sent me a hundred dollars," 
 said Nicholas, beginning to think rapidly. 
 Was it possible here was a clue to this 
 last mystery? 
 
 " He didn't represent it in just that way," 
 said Silas. " He was a poor man then, only 
 an overseer, but he went to the mill-own- 
 ers about it, he said,* and they made up a 
 purse. There was one of them that he called 
 Mulford, I believe, who gave more than any 
 one else. [Nicholas' thoughts travelled from 
 Fenwick to Colebridge in a twinkling.]. He 
 said he wished it had been Jive hundred 
 instead of one hundred ; and then it came 
 handy to tell him there'd been a check sent 
 you for just that sum. I looked at him 
 eharp, and I thought he appeared a good 
 
 See "Nick Hardy," p. 281.
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 375 
 
 deal more pleased than surprised. ' I wish 
 it had been a thousand, says he. Gaines 
 is superintendent now, and I guess he's 
 rich." 
 
 But Nicholas' mind was on a very different 
 track from the one Silas had struck. Mr. 
 Gaines was not rich. If he had been, doubt- 
 less he would gladly have sent his young 
 benefactor five hundred dollars, or a thou- 
 sand dollars, and in a less roundabout way 
 than through a real-estate broker in New 
 York. Some eccentric hand had managed 
 that affair. Nicholas had no personal knowl- 
 edge of Mr. Mulford beyond the short and 
 curious acquaintance on the boat between 
 Femnouth and Nohannic, but he had jumped 
 to ths conclusion at once that this gentle- 
 man and Mulford the mill-owner were one 
 and the same. He did not know (what was 
 the fact) that Mr. Mulford knew who he 
 was when he intrusted him with the money
 
 376 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and letter to Colebridge. He did not know 
 that he was entirely at fault in thinking 
 that the mysterious check might be Mr. Mul- 
 ford's gift at all. Of course he could not 
 know that it came from the last man in the 
 world whom he had any reason to suppose 
 cared for him or owed him good will. He had 
 built an hypothesis, but it was a good deal 
 like the cosmogony that rested the globe on 
 an elephant that stood on a turtle that stood 
 on nothing. And the old " countess/' whom 
 he saw a few days after, only perplexed him 
 more by suggesting that the check was con- 
 science-money from some wrongful possessor 
 of an inheritance that ought to have been his 
 (Hardy's), dating back before the Gartney 
 will was written. But she promised to make 
 inquiries, and help him satisfy his curiosity. 
 
 An unimportant incident of this last call 
 at Miss Tabitha's was a discovery of wedding
 
 IN SIGHT OF THE LAST MILE-STONE. 377 
 
 preparations going on. Nicholas Lad scarcely 
 " seen Sidney " for nearly a year ; nor had 
 the old question been asked him by Sidney's 
 mother ; for the Helpmeats had dissolved, 
 with the kindest feelings towards Mrs. Hin- 
 nipick, and, with some changes in the mem- 
 bership, had organized a co-operative board- 
 ing association, called the " Eta Pi Club," 
 of which Nicholas was steward. So that 
 both he and they had quite forgotten to 
 charge themselves with Sidney's movements 
 and localities, or to make fun of his love 
 
 
 
 affairs. Nicholas had no doubt, however, that 
 Margaret Granger was now about to make 
 the young man a happy benedict; and he 
 would not have thought of the matter again 
 but for the merry flutter he found the Semi- 
 nary girls in, one day, over a " beautiful ser- 
 enade " that they, or some one of them in 
 particular, had been honored with the night 
 before. There were five of the tuneful youths
 
 378 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 who had come to the gate, and they sung, 
 0, so splendidly ! and it was such a treat ! 
 But there was one who stepped inside the 
 yard, and played the guitar, and sung a 
 song, and it was so exquisitely sweet ! and 
 some of the words were 
 
 "The gloom that winter cast 
 
 How soon the heart forgets 
 When summer brings at last 
 
 Her sun that never sets ! 
 So dawned my love for you; 
 
 So fixed through joy and pain, 
 Than summer sun mor^ true : 
 
 Twill never set again." 
 
 And then the rest sung in chorus with him ; 
 and the quartette had such lovely voices 
 too ! And the young man stood there sing- 
 ing and playing as much as a quarter of an 
 hour ; and he had long hair, and the moon 
 shone down on his elegant little boot ; and 
 some of the girls knew him, and said it was 
 Mr. Sidney Hinnipick, the organist at St.
 
 IN SIGHT OF THE LAST MILE-STONE. 379 
 
 John's, and one girl threw him a bouquet out 
 of her window ; and they knew it was Emma 
 Crosby, and he was engaged to her, or going 
 to be : and it was all too dearly, delightfully 
 romantic for anything! 
 
 Nicholas was vastly amused with this 
 pretty nonsense ; but he kept his own knowl- 
 edge of the gallant guitar-player to himself. 
 So Sidney was off with the old love, and 
 on with the new 1 Probably Miss Margaret 
 had found out her mistake. Perhaps they 
 both had. If he had " seen Sidney " as often 
 ati in the old days, he might have known 
 by his looks that Miss Margaret "found out 
 h^r mistake " eight months ago, and that a 
 certain young merchant from Colebridge had 
 h&Jped her find it out. 
 
 When Senior " Biennial " was over, and 
 Presentation-Day came, Nicholas Hardy began 
 for the firot time to realize that his student 
 life, and all its countless associations so dear
 
 380 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 to him, had almost ended. The old-fashioned 
 ceremony of the reading, in Latin, from the 
 chapel-pulpit stairs, by the senior tutor, the 
 names of all the young men who were 
 "through/' and the delivery of the class 
 oration and poem, took place in the forenoon. 
 The afternoon was the Seniors' farewell fes- 
 tal, when they gathered as " college boys " for 
 the last time. At two o'clock the clas*, en- 
 tirely insensible as yet of their dignity as 
 newly "presented " bachelors, began to spread 
 themselves on the grass, under the elms of 
 the old Campus. In the centre of their ring 
 stood a tub of iced lemonade, and every 
 man held in his hand the traditional long 
 white clay pipe, the calumet token of pres- 
 ent and everlasting friendship. At the end, 
 placed to front the whole class, stood a table 
 for the speakers, and convenient benches and 
 stand for the class band, who both played 
 instruments and led the singing of the songs.
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 381 
 
 Crowds of undergraduates lounged outside 
 the ring to listen, and all the front windows 
 of Ionic Hall and old South Central were 
 full of fair maiden faces, Jane Hardy's 
 and Nellie Lincoln's among the rest. 
 
 The " Class History " was the piece de 
 resistance of the feast, and for class histo- 
 rian who could equal Matt Calvin ? His task 
 was to rake over in running pleasantry each 
 fellow's record, and dismiss him wish some 
 witty benediction, and to present " statistics" 
 of the class divisions, with just enough fact 
 in them to make their errors doubly laugha- 
 ble. Every droll division-room blunder, every 
 absurd accident, every joke or rare " load," 
 or ridiculous surprise or funny fix, or excru- 
 ciating " sell," that had stuck to a man, 
 and had surnamed him perhaps through four 
 years of memory, Matt worked in with his 
 inimitable ingenuity among the victim's " per- 
 sonal facts," and gave him a send-off that
 
 382 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 provoked a continual tumult of laughter. Of 
 course Proc the indomitable Proc came 
 in for a large share of the comical celebrity. 
 His adventures and mishaps had been mani- 
 fold, and the exploit of " ponying " himself 
 
 * 
 from the saloon-window was only 4 single 
 
 specimen. Matt shaped them all into his 
 " history," and reeled them off amid peals 
 of deafening mirth. Proc, the good-humored, 
 happy-go-easy fellow, whom nobody could be 
 vexed with, not even the Faculty, seemed 
 to be constitutionally disqualified for study. 
 The effect on his recitations was a rule with- 
 out an exception, till one day there was a 
 new sensation in his division-room, and a 
 sly cartoon slid about among the shaking 
 students, with him perched on a pyramid of 
 furniture, under the President's hammer, ex- 
 plaining itself as "the chair-i-table raising 
 of Proc's stand" and bearing a quotation 
 from Byron's Lara,
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 383 
 
 "He heard, he rose, and, tremulously bitive, 
 Rushed " 
 
 After fizzling and flunking his way through 
 three years and a half, Proc had made one 
 " rush 1 " and if it suited Calvin to dramatize 
 that " rush," and make it the one accident 
 that saved his stand, he liked the joke as well 
 as anybody. He was not sensitive about his 
 scholarship, and he could not help furnishing 
 fun, and making people happy, if he tried. 
 
 A perfect tempest of cheers, and calls, and 
 roaring ha-ha's greeted the conclusion of his 
 " biography," and the screams of " Speech ! 
 speech 1 " " Speech from Proc ! " would have 
 lifted any other man to his feet and put 
 him on the table. But Proc only sat still 
 and laughed with the rest. He never made 
 speeches, and his classmates knew it. He 
 was a man of action; and he continued to 
 be one in after years a good and noble 
 one.
 
 384 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 It was expected that the historian in his 
 hits on " present company " would confine 
 himself entirely to the jocose, and say noth- 
 ing that would sting ; and in the rare art 
 of doing this Calvin's skill and delicacy were 
 perfect; and, though Proc did not respond, 
 many of the class came up to the call, after 
 Matt had " done " them, and indorsed his 
 queer account with pleasantries as happy as 
 his own. But of the dropped members (who 
 on presentation-day " turned up missing ") 
 he could speak with less constraint ; and over 
 some of these the sport was immense. Every 
 grotesque recollection of them, their freaks, 
 foibles, oddities, and scrapes, and the whim- 
 sical things they said or did, everything 
 but their vices (for these were not matter 
 for fun) Matt made the most of, in prose or 
 verse, as the humor served, and the convul- 
 sive merriment they created, as he told them 
 over, made even the outsiders laugh, who
 
 IN SIGHT OF THE LAST MILE-STONE. 385 
 
 saw no point to the story at all. There was 
 Hugo Webb, who never could get the Greek 
 quantities, and always went by the name of 
 " Thuck-a-dides " ; and Jim Milton, known as 
 " Qui Fit," from his experiment with " qui 
 Jit Meccenas" one day at recitation, and who 
 left college to go to Rome (Calvin said) and 
 find out " who made Mecaenas " (the transla- 
 tion by which he had immortalized himself ) ; 
 and there was Pete Newell, famous for his 
 Homeric epithets, who got lost on a " long- 
 shadowing " logarithm, and went off in an 
 " ungodspeakable storm ; " and there was Bob 
 Falconer, who fooled away his time in love- 
 making with a soft city damsel ("par nobile 
 turtle-dove-orum "), 
 
 "till his brain turned stupid 
 And migrated from common sense to Cupid," 
 
 and who actually married between Junior 
 and Senior year, and came back and kept 
 25
 
 386 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 still about it, till the Faculty found it out, 
 when 
 
 "... came the last of college that should rex 
 Poor Borneo's soul. A summons from the Prex ; 
 A half-hour's homily, such as judges read 
 To criminals condemned to hang ; a deed 
 Of dissolution signed, a bow, a doff 
 Of hats, and Alma Mater swung him off, 
 Minus excuse, diploma, or dismission, 
 To proper matrimonial perdition." 
 
 But my unacquainted reader cannot be sup- 
 posed to take the force of these descriptions, 
 or feel the aptness of allusions and reminis- 
 cences so entirely limited and local. To a 
 stranger the very best jokes of a " class-his- 
 tory " are as unmusical as a stringless fiddle ; 
 and I have reported Calvin's performance only 
 far enough to hint again at the exceptions I 
 mentioned early in the chapter, the sort 
 of students who compose the small minority 
 of an American college community, and gen- 
 erally leave their class for their class's good.
 
 IN SIGHT OP THE LAST MILE-STONE. 387 
 
 Only in rare instances does the funny histo- 
 rian tell the real reason of a sorry fellow's 
 disappearance, the rule being to charitably 
 cover his going under some unlucky ab- 
 surdity. 
 
 Songs, music, and refreshments interspersed 
 the reading and speaking, and then (after the 
 ceremony of trampling on the pipes) the 
 class- marched in procession to salute the 
 President and Professors at their homes or 
 rooms, returned to give three cheers before 
 each of the old college buildings that stood 
 identified with their life and labor there, and 
 passed to Minerva Hall, to plant their class 
 ivy, and sing Hardy's " Ivy Song." Its words 
 are still heard in the old college, at class 
 farewells when retiring Seniors chant to 
 " Auld lang syne," - 
 
 " Tis holy here ! How deep and dear 
 Resounds the long good-bye!
 
 888 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 We ne'er shall shed a sweeter tear, 
 Nor heave a purer sigh. 
 
 All, all are past: and soon the last 
 
 Will fade from book and brain. 
 O, give and take, for Memory's sake, 
 
 The parting hand again ! " 
 
 When the ivy rite was finished they formed 
 the " parting ring," and as they passed each 
 by each, shaking mutual hands, Nicholas 
 Hardy was not the only Senior who shed 
 manly tears. This was not absolutely the 
 last of student life and joy, for Commence- 
 ment was yet to come, but as an unbroken 
 class, for college exercises, they would meet 
 no more.
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 389 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE BROKEN SPOON IS FINALLY 
 MENDED. 
 
 Brief time he lingered 'mid those quiet shades, 
 His quiet shade no longer. Youths and maids 
 Went laughing by, as wont; the thrilling song 
 Of undergraduate glee, that oft and long 
 He'd sung and loved, from other voices rose 
 Up the old entries; other champions chose 
 His place upon the furlong ; others' toil 
 Pursued his ended tasks, where fresher oil 
 Befilled his faded lamp, and younger forms 
 - Came to his quitted chair; and all that warms 
 And glads the student's heart did round him swim 
 In life of later season not for him. ANON. 
 
 /~* OING to sea, I fancy," said Calvin, 
 entering Hardy's room, and finding 
 him bustling about with his navy shirt on. %
 
 390 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " Yes, going to see what I can see. If my 
 eyes don't go to salt water, salt water will 
 come to my eyes. It's like a funeral here 
 since class-day." 
 
 "You're right, Nick," said Bart Whately, 
 coming in at the moment. " I'm going to 
 Salton Rock myself, to lie off a week." 
 
 " You fellows are melancholy," laughed 
 Calvin. 
 
 "Ah, Matt Matt's got an attraction here. 
 He don't want to go away," quoth Whately, 
 turning the laugh on him. Matt had an 
 " attraction ; " and having finished his studies, 
 he was perfectly at liberty to attend to it. 
 "Finished your commencement piece, Nick?" 
 he said, after vainly inquiring for a " tub of 
 soap" to put his head in. 
 
 " Yes, and committed. I'll be back in time 
 for rehearsals," replied Hardy, cramming 
 Borne articles of clothing into his valise. 
 
 " Come on ! " shouted Barkenhead, appear
 
 THE BBOKEN SPOON MENDED^ 391 
 
 ing suddenly at the door in a navy shirt like 
 the one Nick wore. " Faunce says we oust 
 get off in an hour, and we'll have to order 
 down that barrel of hard-tack. Say, aren't 
 you going to take the old sea-serpent along ? 
 Some Junior '11 break in and hook it while 
 you're gone." 
 
 " Plague o' the wooden spoon ! Take 
 yours" muttered Hardy. But he unhung the 
 old relic from the wall, and carefully placed 
 it inside his dressing-case, and, with hasty 
 good-byes to his friends, the next minute he 
 was striding away with Barkenhead in the 
 direction of the college navy boat-house. 
 
 Whately and Calvin seldom rowed, but 
 Hardy was fond of the exercise, and his 
 leisure to enjoy it had been far less than he 
 would have liked. He had made an arrange- 
 ment, on rather short notice, with seven other 
 members of his boat-club, for a trip round the 
 coast and up the Kinnebassit Kiver, to camp
 
 392 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 out a few days, and fish, and ramble, and 
 "lie off." He had a little money saved, for 
 bis stewardship in the " Eta Pi's," which gave 
 him his board, had lightened his yearly bills 
 by at least a hundred and seventy dollars, 
 and he calculated that the pleasure and free- 
 dom of this inexpensive excursion would 
 divert him from the sadness that came with- 
 the vanishing college days. 
 
 " Trim boat there, and quit fooling ! Man 
 your oars! Peak!" Every blade shot into 
 the air, and stood in the sun in a glistening 
 row everyone but Proc's. Proc, the irre- 
 pressible, whose place was " second stroke," 
 had got into some comical tussle with his 
 starboard mate, and in the scramble to raise 
 his oar when the order came, his right sleeve 
 caught in the thowl, and twitched him over 
 with his heels in the air. In another second 
 he was tumbling in the green sea. Poor 
 Snickerby ! But no; nobody need undertake
 
 THE BBOKEN SPOON MENDED. 393 
 
 to pity him. He was like a frog in the water, 
 and when he got out, as he did almost as 
 quickly as he got in, he minded quite as 
 little about the wet. It was some time, 
 though, before order could be restored, for 
 Proc once back in his seat, every man of the 
 crew went into a roaring spasm, and it 
 seemed as if " stroke " Hardy and " bow '' 
 Forrest would laugh away all their strength. 
 Even " Commodore " Faunce, who was not a 
 " good laugher," shook so that he almost 
 dropped his yoke-lines. 
 
 "Peak !" once more. " Ship ! Give way ! '' 
 And with a long pull and a steady pull 
 the crew of the " Thetis " sped down the 
 harbor. 
 
 The sun was blistering hot, and soon dried 
 the water out of Proc's clothes, leaving him 
 covered all over with a hoar crust of salt, 
 and the infinite suggestiveness of his appear- 
 ance, and the cackling good humor with
 
 394 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 which he bore it, made the fellows forget all 
 the toil of rowing. To have Proc along was 
 worth half a dozen spare hands. 
 
 They lunched on the boat, and reaching 
 Rivington a little past noon, they rowed three 
 miles up the Kinnebassit, and camped at 
 Cedar Bluff. It was a lovely resting-place. 
 The farms across the river, with white- 
 sleeved husbandmen at work in the growing 
 corn, and cottage dwellings peeping out be- 
 tween clustering orchards; the distant pas- 
 tures dotted with feeding flocks and cattle, 
 and musical with the shrill bleat of lambs; 
 the high shores above and below waving 
 with the red cedar, and maple, and beech ; 
 and the shining water underneath, just rip- 
 pled by the rising tide, made a scene that 
 refreshed every eye and soul, and sketched 
 on every memory a picture of peace. In a 
 grove, in a little nook on the low beach under 
 the bluff, the students spread their tent, and
 
 THE BBOKEN SPOON MENDED. 395 
 
 were just in time to discover a beautiful little 
 spring by the river brink, covered at flood 
 tide, and fill their bucket from it before high 
 water came. 
 
 Then they stripped their feet, and ran 
 about like country urchins on the grass, 
 grave Faunce planting his sole on a thistle 
 in the course of the fun, and actually beg- 
 ging somebody to say " thunder and light- 
 ning" for him. Towards night an honest 
 cow came near, looking astonished, and Ned 
 McFarlane and Charley Durkee, prudently 
 thoughtful of supper, began trying to make 
 a bargain with her for a quart of milk. But 
 her owner's boy, arriving soon after, proved 
 a more willing negotiator, and invited Proc, 
 who stood hungrily holding a saucepan, to 
 " take " what was wanted. Proc set about 
 milking, but the cow turning round, smelt the 
 salt on his clothes, and took such a fancy to 
 him that she began to eat his shirt off; and
 
 396 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 finally the boy finished the milking himself, 
 got his money, and went home happy. 
 
 Meantime Hardy, Barkenhead, and Tolman 
 had caught a few fish, and Lem Forrest, who 
 was " cook " for the crew, had started a fire 
 and unpacked the coffee fixings ; and a tooth- 
 some and a hearty supper the fellows made 
 that evening, with the cloth-covered grass 
 for their table, and good appetites for their 
 sauce. At night they hung their big lantern 
 in their tent, and piling their portmanteaus 
 and blankets in a row through the middle, 
 laid their heads on them, four one side and 
 four the other, with their toes towards the 
 tent-pins. Some tried to read, but the moths 
 and June-bugs had found out where they 
 were, and begun to visit them too familiarly 
 for any comfort in literature. Every man 
 was tired, and just drowsy enough to be 
 foolish. Charley Durkee began to hum, 
 The Girl 1 left behind Me," and Barkenhead
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 397 
 
 struck in with "India-rubber Overcoat," to 
 put him out; -but Charley kept on. Proc 
 tried " the Horse-boat ; " whereupon Tol- 
 man began the " Bold Soldier Boy," and Lern 
 Forrest tuned up " Erin go bragh ! Will-bee, 
 well-bee-wack-fa-la." But all of them could 
 not put out Charley Durkee, and there were 
 five melodies (?) going at once babel 
 enough to scare the crickets, if not the June- 
 bugs. Presently Faunce was seen to get up 
 deliberately, and wipe something off the back 
 of his neck, and that put an end to the 
 singing. 
 
 "What's the matter, Faunce?" 
 
 " I guess it's a Xylota ejuncida." And that 
 seemed to set the example to all the rest. 
 Barkenhead got up not very deliberately. In 
 fact he made a flying leap for the tent-door, 
 his long legs swinging like a pair of flails. 
 " Eh ! eh ! there's a Stizus unicinctus on me ! " 
 The mob of insects were now in perfect riot
 
 398 THB WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 around the lantern, and dropping and shoot- 
 ing in every direction. Hardy cried out that 
 a Papilio pldlenor had hit him in the eye. 
 "Ugh! ugh!" Macfarlane had a Calandra 
 compressirostra in his trousers-leg. " Ouch ! " 
 There was a Boletophagus cornutus buzzing 
 in Tolman's hair ! " Ki-yi ! " and Proc ex- 
 ecuted a ground-tumble with a monstrous 
 Scarabceus tityus sticking to his ear ! About 
 that time it began to occur to the fellows to 
 hang the lantern outside. 
 
 " Kegular haze, wasn't it?" remarked Har- 
 dy, when the hubbub was over. " Zounds ! " 
 quoth Barkenhead, " we'd better box up a 
 bushel or two of these bugs, and send them 
 down to the next Sophomore class." And 
 so, laughing, and - rubbing themselves, and 
 shaking their blankets, the disturbed camp- 
 ers settled down again. "Tin going to un- 
 dress," said Faunce, after fifteen minutes' 
 quiet ; " it's streaming hot ; " and he threw
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 399 
 
 off most of his clothes, the rest doing the 
 same. They found that they could burn one 
 little bed-lamp, and the night-flyers would 
 not notice it, with the bright lantern hanging 
 outside on the end of the tent-pole. Hardy, 
 who had lost his drowsiness, took out his 
 portfolio, and began to write a letter to Jane 
 and Silas. The rest of the company were 
 soon asleep. He finished his letter, describ- 
 ing the bug " haze," &c., and then, pencil 
 still in hand, mused his college regrets over 
 again the very thoughts he had come up 
 the Kinnebassit to get away from. He kept 
 on scribbling instead of going to sleep. 
 
 "Farewell to the spells that bind us 
 
 In the thrall of a thrice-told theme; 
 Farewell to the days behind us, 
 That fade like a splendid dream." 
 
 " Hullo 1 " 
 
 McFarlane waked up, and Hardy was glad 
 he did.
 
 400 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 " There '11 be a thunder-shower before 
 morning: I feel it in my bones." 
 
 " Let it come," said Hard} 7 ; " we'll rest the 
 better ; " and he put out his light, and lay 
 down. The two talked a while in half-whis- 
 pers, and then all was still for three or four 
 hours. 
 
 When the company next opened their eyes 
 on each other they were outside the tent in 
 the dark, a tousled squad en dishabiUe, hold- 
 ing their clothes in their hands. McFarlane's 
 "bones" were good prophets. The thunder 
 shower had come, and a tremendous one and 
 it had drowned them out. 
 
 "What time is it, I wonder ? ; ' mumbled 
 Tolman, rubbing his eyes. Just then, in a 
 pause of the retiring thunder, they heard a 
 distant cock crow. It was three o'clock ; 
 and they concluded not to go to bed again. 
 
 This will answer for a description of the 
 camping-out life of the crew of the Thetis
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 401 
 
 (bating the bugs and the rain) during all 
 their Kinnebassit trip. They rowed up the 
 river by easy stages as far as Squantuck 
 Highlands, where the rapids stopped them; 
 and there they staid two days. I have no 
 space to relate their adventures, and how 
 they fished, and bathed, and picked wild 
 strawberries, and made droll acquaintances; 
 and how Barkenhead ran a race with a yellow 
 dog, and got back their bag of fat pork that 
 the boast had stolen; and how Proc "floated'' 
 on his back in the rapids from top to bottom, 
 wearing an old white hat, and bobbing up 
 and down like an empty keg. Every night, 
 after the first, their sleep was sound and 
 sweet; every day the weather was inviting 
 for out-door pastime. On Sunday they all 
 save one detailed of necessity to watch the 
 boat and tent attended the little Squantuck 
 church, a sun-burnt but gentlemanly seven; 
 and when they returned down the river 
 26
 
 402 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 there was not one of them but carried more 
 strength in his sinews, and more happiness 
 in his heart. 
 
 On the eighth day, as they passed Hilbury, 
 and rounded the bend just below, they came 
 suddenly upon two men drawing a shad-net. 
 Hilbury was the most beautiful town on the 
 river, and was so much admired for its ro- 
 mantic situation that city people often made 
 it a summer resort. At this time a few, it 
 appeared, had already arrived, for our excur- 
 sionists met a small party returning from a 
 morning boat-ride. At the place where the 
 men were fishing the river shallowed and 
 widened between lovely meadows, and here, 
 as the students floated down the current, and 
 the Hilbury party moved up stream nearer 
 the bank, both boats came within the sweep 
 of the long net, and could not escape before 
 the ends were hauled ashore The queer 
 catch made good fun for the men, and quite
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 403 
 
 us good for the captured crews. " Biggest 
 haul we ever made," remarked one of the 
 fishers dryly, as the boats huddled close to 
 the bank, and the seine came combing 
 through the shallows full of struggling, silver- 
 sided shad and white-fish ; and then there 
 was a great laugh all round. 
 
 There were four of the Hilbury party, two 
 young men, and two young ladies. But what 
 was Hardy's surprise to recognize one of the 
 latter as Margaret Granger! Her surprise 
 was equal to his, when she knew him in his 
 boating uniform, and with his sunburnt face. 
 It soon appeared that Margaret was no longer 
 Miss Granger, but a young bride, for she 
 presented her " husband/' a fine-looking gen 
 tleman, who proved to be " Mr. Wilson, junior 
 partner with Mr. Mulford in Colebridge City." 
 The two parties in the boats were introduced 
 and placed on talking terms at once, for 
 the oddity of their meeting made mutual ao
 
 404 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 quaintance easy ; but " Mrs. Wilson " had 
 something more to tell Hardy, as soon as the 
 stir and sport of landing the fish had sub- 
 sided a little.' " Mrs. Hanford is stopping up 
 here at the hotel," said she. " She intends 
 to start for New Harbor to-morrow, to see 
 you. It is fortunate that we met, for she 
 would have been disappointed. Shall I carrj 
 her a message from you, or will you call ? r 
 
 " I will call," Hardy said at once. He 
 would not pass so near his early and best- 
 loved school-teacher without seeing her. 
 
 "Jump in here, and go up with us," said 
 Mr. Wilson heartily. "Room enough in the 
 stern-sheets;" and the invitation was seconded 
 by the whole Hilbury party. 
 
 " Thank you, but not in this dress," said 
 Hardy. But his objection was overruled with 
 outcries from both the boats. The uniform 
 was "just the thing; " a college-navy man who 
 pulled a stroke oar might be "proud of hia
 
 THE BKOKEN SPOON MENDED. 405 
 
 rig " anywhere ; and some of his classmates 
 made jocose remarks about tbe privilege of a 
 "handsome man," &c., till, to end it all, Hardy 
 got aboard with his new acquaintances, and 
 started up the river. " Back to-night," he 
 said, as he left his crew. 
 
 " Camp at Redstone," shouted Faun'ce. 
 
 "Yes, I know." 
 
 And the Hilbury boat disappeared round 
 the "bend, while the Thetis, after taking in a 
 supply of fresh shad, pursued its way down 
 the stream. In some further conversation 
 with Margaret, Hardy learned that Mr. Han- 
 ford's grandfather, the singular, deaf old man 
 of whom he had such uncomfortable recollec- 
 tion, had recently died. But that Mrs. Han- 
 ford had any particular purpose in seeing 
 him, other than to make a friendly visit, he 
 did not begin to guess till Margaret men- 
 tioned that " aunty " had made a journey to 
 Colebridge shortly before the old man's death,
 
 406 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 and had some time before written him a let 
 ter perhaps two letters. Then he thought 
 of Miss Tabitha Magraw's friendship for him- 
 self, the mystery of her manner lately, hint- 
 ing at some discovery of her own, and her 
 cautious promise touching " inquiries " whose 
 result she seemed to be awaiting. 
 
 "But his interview with Mrs. Hanford re- 
 vealed the meaning of everything, and 
 cleared up all the puzzles of the last three 
 years. She was looking worn, and he could 
 readily account for it when she hinted what 
 a fearful care it had been to wait on " Grand- 
 pa Tudor " during his last days. It was the 
 end of a troubled life, and there seemed to be 
 so much to settle and put right, and it was so 
 hard to answer his questions and make him 
 hear. After the first greetings, and talk of 
 health, and weather, &c., were over, she 
 asked him if he had received her " letter." 
 Hardy certainly had not. " Then it is in the
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 407 
 
 office at New Harbor for you," she said, ' I 
 wrote it ten days ago, the week alter Grand- 
 pa Tudor died. But I can tell you the con- 
 tents." And ,then she astonished the young 
 man by informing him that the strange old 
 cynic had left him two thousand dollars in his 
 will, and a small, curiously carved, oaken box, 
 which he aad always kept near his bed and 
 seemed to guard with jealous solicitude. 
 From that she went on to give his history as 
 far as she knew it, and such explanations 
 as she could, including much that she had 
 learned from Miss Tabitha during that lady's 
 visit to Colebridge. Old Rodney Tudor had 
 inherited considerable wealth, which, without 
 following any particular business, he had 
 kept invested, and continually accumulating. 
 He had outlived his wife and his only child, 
 who died a widow, the mother of Mr. Han- 
 ford and Mrs. Mulford ; and for the last 
 twenty years he had been a solitary among
 
 408 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 his friends, his infirmity of hearing growing 
 upon him, and his sharp, suspicious temper 
 making him every year more dreaded and 
 more disagreeable. His only employment 
 had been to watch his wealth, but no one but 
 himself could tell how much he had, or where 
 it was, nor would he ever talk of his rela- 
 tions or descent, though a large store of fam- 
 ily facts must have been in his possession. 
 It was only known that his father's name had 
 been Gartney. a nephew of Hiram Gartney 
 who left the " old will/' and nearly of his age, 
 and that, according to Miss Tabitha's infor- 
 mation, this man. Rodney's father, had been 
 concerned with Hiram in the "legal plun- 
 dering" of certain property from their rel- 
 atives the Magraws, and afterwards dis- 
 appeared and changed his name. Rodney 
 Tudor had returned to the State after his 
 father's death, and though in no sense guilty 
 of any wrong his father might have done.
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 409 
 
 his bearing had always been that of a man 
 who inherits an uncomfortable secret, 01 
 riches doubtfully acquired 
 
 Aged people who had known him spoke 
 of ' noble traits '' in the singular and silent 
 man., and even of generous deeds that he 
 had done, and in his dealings he had always 
 been strictly just, but it was evident that 
 his property was more of a trouble than 
 a comfort to him ; and though, until his 
 anxieties and infirmities of age disfigured 
 him, his personal appearance inspired respect, 
 nobody loved him. 
 
 "Lone, wild, and strange, he stood, alike exempt 
 From all affection, and from all contempt." 
 
 Since Nicholas' visit to Colebridge he had 
 asked a great many questions about him, 
 and Mrs. Hanford had told him much, and 
 Mr. Mulford had related to him the story 
 of the saving of the infant's life in Fen-
 
 410 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 wick River. Nicholas had less need to 
 wonder (Mrs. Hanford said) at being re- 
 membered among his bequests than several 
 others had, who never claimed relationship, 
 
 r 
 
 and perhaps had never even heard of 
 him. 
 
 His whole care and thought during his 
 last days Deemed to be to make amends 
 for some old injustice, and his final dis- 
 tribution of his property was as eccentric 
 as his life had been. Of course the family 
 at home had been liberally provided for, but 
 his bequests to Miss Magraw, the Hardys, 
 Lymans, and others, intimated his wish to 
 restore, as far as possible, the thousands 
 obtained by his father, to those who would 
 have inherited it if no wrong had ever been 
 done. 
 
 It was plain enough now to Nicholas where 
 the five hundred dollar check came from, 
 though until this moment he would have
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 411 
 
 thought himself .whimsical in the extreme 
 to connect it in any way with the deaf old 
 man's inquiry as to how he expected to " get 
 money to pay for his education." He men- 
 tioned the gift to Mrs. Hanford. 
 
 " Ah," she said, " I have no doubt that 
 latterly he was bestowing money in just 
 that way. We noticed that his letters to 
 his New York banker were more frequent 
 than he could have needed to write upon 
 ordinary business." 
 
 And now all the interest centred on that 
 mysterious casket, the old carved oak box. 
 Mrs. Hanford had the key in sacred keeping, 
 to carry out the donor's charge that no 
 hands but Hardy's should open it ; and 
 when she gave it to him he declared that 
 she should share its secret with him. He 
 opened the box, and found it nearly filled 
 with ancient papers, carefully arranged in 
 files. These were mostly mortgages and
 
 412 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 title-deeds of land, some of them dating back 
 more than a hundred years ; but a few were 
 'less ancient, and contained records, minutes, 
 and genealogical notes and history, evidently 
 written by Rodney Tudor himself. They did 
 not spend time examining the papers, how- 
 ever, for an article at the bottom of the box 
 soon absorbed all Hardy's attention, and his 
 friends seemed to become as much interested 
 in the discovery as himself. 
 
 There lay the handle of the ancestral 
 spoon. - Nicholas seized it, and quickly un- 
 rolled the white paper that wrapped it round. 
 On the paper he read the words, recently 
 written, and in the tremulous hand of four- 
 score, 
 
 " To Nicholas Hardy, the one man living 
 of his race (as I believe) in whose heart and 
 veins beat the true spirit and blood of old 
 Solomon Hardee, of Commodore Hardy the 
 gallant friend of Nelson, and of Col. Jeremiah 
 Hardie the Revolutionary patriot, I restore
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 413 
 
 this relic of an ancient heirloom, once a 
 treasure of value and a token of fortune to 
 his kindred, and kept unbroken through three 
 generations as a sacred souvenir. 
 
 " RODNEY TUDOR." 
 
 Here, then, was the rifled treasure at last, 
 the silent witness of the Gartney wrong. 
 Old Rodney's father, with his share of the 
 Magraw plunder, had stolen it away. There 
 could be but one meaning to this. The old 
 " diamond " legend was truth, and the truth 
 had been, till a little more than a century 
 ago, a family secret and a family veneration. 
 A renegade of the race had violated it at 
 last. No wonder he changed his name. It 
 was only strange that he had not destroyed 
 this memento of his guilt. Perhaps it was 
 compunction. Perhaps a superstitious fear 
 came upon him after he had robbed the old 
 talisman of its riches. Perhaps it was the 
 forgetfulness of crime's own folly. These 
 thoughts rushed swiftly through young
 
 414 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Hardy's brain before he could decide to 
 actually search and see if there was any 
 sign that the old handle had ever held a 
 diamond at all. He was almost ashamed 
 to, for Mrs. Hanford had never heard any- 
 thing about it. He turned the venerable 
 stick over and over in his hand. It was 
 somewhat plainer than the one his fancy had 
 modelled for his friend Barkenhead, but still 
 it was a beautiful piece of carving, and some 
 of the old silver ornamental work remained 
 upon it, and he was pleased to trace in its 
 shape something of the serpentine pattern 
 that he had conceived, as Cuvier could 
 conceive a whole animal from one of its 
 bones. 
 
 " Is it possible that the old gentleman 
 knew I had the bowl of this old spoon ? " 
 he questioned half to himself. 
 
 " I think he must have learned it from Miss 
 Magraw," said Mrs. Hanford, smiling. " She
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 415 
 
 was obliged to speak very loud, and the 
 family could not help overhearing some 
 words of the conversation in his room while 
 she was there. I can answer for her that 
 she talked of you as a mother would, and 
 she seemed to have a singular influence over 
 him. She wanted none of his money for 
 herself, I think." 
 
 Hardy continued to examine the old 
 handle, instinctively searching for a screw- 
 joint. If there was one it was most inge- 
 niously concealed. At last the bulb near 
 the lower end yielded a little to a strong 
 twist that he brought to bear upon it. 
 Was it possible? A little further strain 
 upon the wood started the bulb apart with 
 half a turn. Could there be such a strange 
 coincidence ? It must have been a dream, 
 a premonition, that inspired his guess ! The 
 joint was there, and by the time he had 
 opened it, he half expected to see the
 
 416 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 diamond itself. There was the round hollow 
 where it had been ; a good-sized stone that 
 must have been worth $2,500. Old Rodney 
 Tudor had given him just the value of 
 the stolen gem 1 
 
 Hardy rode to Redstone with Mr. Wilson 
 and his wife and Mrs. Hanford, and at the 
 close of a lovely afternoon hailed his class- 
 mates once more in their little camp. 
 
 " You'll see me at Commencement, and 
 my husband, too," said Mrs. Hanford. " I 
 am away for a rest, and I shall not re- 
 turn home till I have seen and heard my 
 little mischievous Nick Hardy ' speak in 
 public on the stage.' " 
 
 And then the pleasure -party all bade 
 good-bye, and rode back to Hilbury. 
 
 " Come here, Bark," said Hardy, a few 
 minutes afterwards, taking Barkenhead aside.
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 417 
 
 He had taken the old spoon-bowl from his 
 dressing-case, and joined it to its long-lost 
 stem. The ragged ends of the break fitted 
 perfectly. 
 
 
 
 " Mighty Jackson 1 Where did you get 
 that?" 
 
 Hardy made all the explanation it was 
 proper to make, and the two talked, and 
 handled, and fussed over the curious old 
 relic till Forrest finished frying the shad, 
 and called the crew to supper. 
 
 On the next day but one the Thetis was 
 back in its place in the navy boat-house ; 
 and very soon after his return to college 
 Hardy went to No. 209 Savin Street, car- 
 rying the recovered heirloom with him. 
 With all that Miss Tabitha's energy had 
 discovered, she had not found out that old 
 Rodney Tudor had the missing stem in his 
 possession. The papers which the secret 
 panel in the old cabinet disclosed were 
 27
 
 418 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 ancient inventories of personal property be- 
 longing to her family, and among the items 
 was counted " The Diamond Spoon ; '' and 
 she was able to determine the time this 
 precious relic was rifled, and to trace the 
 theft to Hiram Gartney's nephew, Rodney's 
 father. Her use of this information had, 
 doubtless, quickened the old man's sensi- 
 bilities, and hastened his purpose of restitu- 
 tion ; but the broken stem that had held 
 the stolen diamond remained his secret till 
 he died. 
 
 Probably no other graduate had a larger 
 " personal attendance " at Commencement 
 than Mr. Nicholas Hardy. Not only his 
 "old school-ma'am," Mrs. Hanford, was there, 
 with her husband, but actually his father and 
 mother, and Sue, and Abe, and Phoebe, 
 and Annette, and Sally and Jerry, and their 
 husbands and wives (if they had them), rose
 
 THE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 419 
 
 up with one accord, and came to New Harbor 
 to hear Nick " speak his piece." 
 
 To most of them the journey was the great 
 effort of their lives. There had never been 
 such a sensation in the Hardy family since 
 the great Fenwick River flood. Of course 
 Silas and Jane were already on the ground ; 
 and they and Nicholas provided for their 
 relatives handsomely. 
 
 Saul Hardy and his wife had got over 
 their craze about the grand " inheritance." 
 The marked improvement during the last 
 few years in their mental, moral, and social, 
 and even financial condition was due (and 
 they knew it and honestly owned it) solely 
 to one cause, their pride in their educated 
 son. In this improvement all their less edu- 
 cated children shared. It was wonderful to 
 see how the influence of Nicholas' superior 
 course and character had (in the rustic 
 phrase) " smarted up " the whole family, and
 
 420 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 given them higher tastes and ambitions, 
 and a better appearance, better habits, and 
 better homes. Their regard for him had led 
 them to a true respect for themselves, for 
 it developed in them a healthy shame to 
 appear unworthy of him. In this benefit, 
 once begun, Jane, of course, had aided not a 
 little, and Silas' return and " resurrection " 
 (as he always persisted in calling it) had 
 given a new impulse to the general hope 
 and gain. 
 
 And so, having brought our friend Nich- 
 olas and his relatives together in " grand 
 tableau," I must dismiss Commencement with 
 a line, or my chapter will never be done. 
 He delivered a fine oration on " Self-culture 
 and School-culture," and received from the 
 President on a piece of parchment his de- 
 gree of A. B., which in itself made him 
 no better or worse.
 
 fHE BROKEN SPOON MENDED. 421 
 
 The old papers in the Tudor box .were 
 put into Squire Gammel's hands, and 
 were found to contain evidence proving 
 the claims of the Hardy family in the 
 Gartney will. But even after its provisions 
 were ascertained and settled, the trouble of 
 realizing the property was so great that the 
 bequests were practically worthless. Nich- 
 olas, and all his relatives, had learned how 
 to support themselves without waiting for 
 dead men's money, and having learned this 
 they were prepared to receive thankfully 
 any needed assistance that came in an 
 honorable way. Miss Tabitha Magraw, being 
 left alone after the marriage of her niece, 
 purchased land on the Crampton Meadows, 
 and sent for Nicholas' youngest sister, Sally, 
 and her husband, to come and live with 
 her. The young man was thrifty and care- 
 ful, and soon made his new farm near 
 the city the admiration of the neighborhood 
 for beauty and productiveness.
 
 422 THE WOODEN SPOON. 
 
 Silas continued to work for Mr. Lego, 
 winning golden opinions for his steadiness, 
 fidelity, and skill. 
 
 What became of Jane, Mr. Matthew Calvin 
 will be happy to tell you any time you 
 choose to call at his office in the city of 
 New York. 
 
 The members of the family still in Pen- 
 wick Falls were all prospering at last ac- 
 counts, though the general testimony is that 
 Annette has " made out " a little better than 
 the rest. 
 
 And as for Nicholas himself, of course all 
 are glad to know that he was so far pro- 
 vided for financially that he could go back 
 to New Harbor and spend three years in 
 the University Law School. 
 
 For particulars of his life and career aftei 
 wards I refer you to Miss Nellie Lincoln 
 (she-that-was) and to the records of the State 
 Legislature, and to the clerk of the Superior 
 Court now sitting in Colebridge.
 
 20"
 
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