PRESENT AND FUTURE.
Friendly reader, were you at a Columbia College commencement, in which
Philip Touchtone and Gerald Saxton graduated, amid a great waving
of pocket-handkerchiefs and a rattle of applause as the class took
their places on the stage for their diplomas? No, I am quite sure you
were not. For Philip and Gerald happen not to have graduated yet,
though they will soon. Touchtone is a senior this year, and Gerald a
sophomore; tall, wide-awake young fellows, both of them well up in
their work and their athletics, devoted to their college life and
(though they do not say any thing about that) to each other, as well.
For Mr. Saxton and Mr. Marcy came to a quiet agreement over some
discussed questions before that winter found the four of them settled
in the same hotel in New York.
“Gerald and I owe the lad every thing,” insisted Mr. Saxton. “We
can’t take him from you, but you must let him be as much with us as
is possible. I want you, for one thing, to let me be responsible,
henceforth, for his education and for his professional starting-out,
whatever he chooses it to be. No more hotel for him, please! I shall
just count him another son of mine, with or without your consent, my
friend.”
So it was agreed. Philip stayed out of college an extra winter or
two, that he need not precede Gerald too much, and after the foreign
_wanderjahr_ now before them, when their graduation is over, they are
to go into the law-school together.
Together (that word which means so much to all friends) they have been
again up the coast, and this time the trip extended to Halifax, without
let or hinderance, unlike that memorable first attempt. Knoxport and
Chantico are places that alter little with years. Time runs slowly
there, as of old. They found Mr. Banger at his desk in the Kossuth, a
little stouter and more business-like looking than ever. Mr. Banger
received them with great unction and much admiration. They walked out
into the garden and sat down in the arbor, and smiled, and then grew
grave as they recalled the suspense that they had felt, that ended in
the dramatic scene under its green roof. Joe has an interest in the
hotel now, and he has married a niece of Mr. Banger, into the bargain.
Once upon a time there was a great day for the Probascos――when the two
arrived at Chantico Island. Expecting them had kept the couple at the
farm, almost with the inclusion of the sagacious Towzer (“His real
name’s Jock, you know”), in excitement, for a week before.
“Well, well, it’s good to see you both, if you have changed
everlastingly!” reiterated Mrs. Probasco. “You’re――well, you’re real
_sights_ to comfort one’s eyes, both of you!” she added impartially.
They spent an evening in the quaint kitchen and a night in the old
room, where Gerald had tossed in his sickness, Philip watching him in
lonely anxiety. Obed’s rheumatics seem over. He talks more than he did.
Philip vows that on this occasion Obed began to tell them again the
story of the nautical ancestor and the wary “widow that lived on Cape
Ann”――promptly interrupted by Mrs. Probasco, who said that “the boys
hadn’t come all the way from New York to listen to that old yarn.” Mrs.
Probasco’s grandfather is still “feeble, very feeble.” But he survives
and bids fair to do so for an indefinite time; and so the little island
will probably not soon lose its satisfied tenants from its wave-bound
circuit.
The Ossokosee flourishes, enlarged, and well-kept as ever. Philip and
Gerald and Mr. Saxton join Mr. Marcy there each summer, and then there
are great doings in a highly private and quiet way. I don’t think the
two friends ever walk up one particular path in the evening without
Gerald’s recalling (though he may not speak of it) the night when,
so much younger, he listened with Philip to those words of General
Sawtelle within the embowered Summer-house.
The hope and resolve of that evening were indeed granted. To-day in
the little cemetery near the hotel is a marble monument in place of a
simpler stone, formerly there. One reads that it is――“To the Memory of
Reginald Touchtone――Cleared of the Stain of a False Charge upon his
Honor――After Many Days――Erected by his Son, Philip Touchtone, and by
Jay Marcy and Gerald B. Saxton, Jr.”
Farmer Wooden and his wife lead the same plodding, healthful, simple
lives as ever. They likewise continue to send butter and eggs in
unlimited quantity to the Ossokosee, and they delight to talk with
Philip of the days when he used to be the purveyor thereof. They laugh
merrily over those commissary experiences, and are sincere friends,
as says Mrs. Wooden. “You see, you haven’t no right to forget us, Mr.
Philip. Not that I expect you ever will. You ain’t that kind. But ’twas
down there in the ravine, you know, you first met young Mr. Saxton. You
recollect the tramp, that day?” Yes, Philip perfectly recollects both
“that day” and Mr. Sip.
Mr. Hilliard――jolly, fat, good-tempered Mr. Hilliard――who has always
been afraid ever since that year “of some clever vagabond borrowing
my name, sir,” but never has been favored with that little accident
again――he is another regular guest at the Ossokosee. There are signs
(so some knowing observers say) that Mr. Hilliard contemplates
matrimony. He encountered dignified Miss Beauchamp, a year or so ago,
at the Ossokosee, and it is known that she receives very long letters
from him; and that he has lately bought a house not far from his
Madison Avenue flat. I think that Philip and Gerald are sure of much
pleasure in that house next season.
* * * * *
Well! And is this all? Have we really come to the end of this
story?――which is, perhaps, a truer one than the imagination of a
writer of such things as stories, or even his heart, would fain make
him believe? I fear we have indeed reached the last of it, for even by
bright forecast, unnecessary, I think, here, a story had best not be
lengthened if truly it is all told.
But――if one yields to the temptation to be among the prophets, and
closes his eyes, there come, chiefly, pleasant thoughts of how good
are friendship and love and loyal service between man and man in this
rugged world of ours; and how probable it is that such things here
have not their ending, since they have not their perfecting here,
perfect as friendship and the service sometimes seem. Therewith the
inditer of this chronicle sees Philip and Gerald walking forward,
calmly and joyfully, and in an unlessened affection and clearer mutual
understanding――into their endless lives.
And so, Philip and Gerald, as says Brutus in the play, “give me your
hands all over, one by one.” I am loath to let you go, but I must.
Good-bye.
THE END.
SELECT LIST OF BOOKS
Published by
HUNT & EATON, 150 Fifth Ave., New York.
CRANSTON & STOWE, 190 West Fourth Street, Cincinnati.
=Reuben.= A Prince in Disguise. By Carlisle B. Holding. 12mo. 1 00
Author of _Cash_, _Peter the Preacher_, etc.
=Gold, Tinsel, and Trash.= Stories of Country and City. By
Erasmus W. Jones. 12mo. 1 00
=Gems Without Polish.= A Story of the Country Week. By Alice
May Douglass. 12mo. 1 25
A story showing the benefit, morally and physically, of the
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=Shoulder Arms=; or, The Boys of Wild Lake School. By John
Preston True. 12mo. Illustrated. 1 25
We heartily commend _Shoulder Arms_ to young readers――boys
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It stimulates the reader to the very last, and yet is free
from the taint of cheap sensationalism.――_Christian Advocate._
=Peter the Preacher=; or, Reaping a Hundred-Fold. By Carlisle
B. Holding. 12mo. 1 25
The author of this striking story tells us that it is
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=Drummer Boy of the Rappahannock.= By Edward A. Rand. 12mo.
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The readers of the _Intelligencer_ have already enjoyed a
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=Young Knights of the Cross.= By Daniel Wise, D.D. 12mo. 80
A _vade mecum_ for boys and girls. A hand-book of principles,
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This is a book that parents may safely put into the hands of
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=Gurnet’s Garden=, and =The New Boy at Southcott.= By Mrs. Mary
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=Two Thousand Miles Through the Heart of Mexico.= By Rev. J. H.
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=Left in the Wilderness.= By Mary A. Roe. 12mo. 80
A book for American boys, descriptive of pioneer days in Ohio.
The boys who will follow Joe and Harold Perry and Johnny
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=John Conscience.= By John M. Bamford. 12mo. 80
Those who have read _Elias Power, of Ease-in Zion_, will
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=What Nobody Ever Told Me.= By Mrs. Chauncey I. Filley. 12mo. 1 00
Short papers prepared for, and read to, an infant class. They
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=Men of Renown=: Character Sketches of Men Distinguished as
Patriots, Statesmen, Writers, Reformers, Merchants, etc. By
Daniel Wise, D.D. 12mo. 1 00
The pen of the veteran writer of these “sketches” has been
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We commend this book especially to the youths whose
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then “men of renown” have led the way.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).
――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved, including
aint/ain't and wont/won't.
――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
――CONTENTS changed to reflect the full chapter title descriptions
in the contents for Chapters I, II and VI.
End of Project Gutenberg's Left to Themselves, by Edward Irenæus Stevenson