His parents now decided to send Paul away to school. The college they
selected was situated in the heart of the Alleghany Mountains about four
miles from the Pennsylvania Railroad. It was far from any water course
or river, and surrounded by a dense forest of pines. Paul's mother
accompanied him to the college. She told the faculty of his peculiar
passion for the water and the dread she had of losing him. Mrs. Boyton
was assured that her boy would be taken good care of. Paul was permitted
to escort her as far as the village where she took the stage for the
rail road again. Their farewell was most affectionate. Paul cried
bitterly, not only for the parting from his mother whom he loved so
well, but for the feeling that he was being exiled for all his crimes
and misdemeanors. The fall session had not yet begun so he had ample
time to become acquainted with the few boys who were already at the
college and to explore the dark pine woods that seemed a new world to
him. Paul inquired eagerly if there was any water in the vicinity. The
boys told him there was a place called the "swimming hole" about two
miles from the college. Next day he coaxed some of his companions to
show him the way. He found a pond, little larger than a hole,
surrounded by heavy vegetation and inhabited by a colony of frogs. He
was soon swimming in its depths and had induced two or three of the
boys to follow his example. Day after day he visited the hole and
made out to enjoy a swim; but he always thought longingly of the far
off, bright Alleghany.
One day a teamster who sometimes came to the college, told Paul of a
sheet of water that was much larger than the swimming hole. He called
it "Bruce's Dam." Next morning Paul and a Philadelphia boy named
Stockdale, who was his particular chum, obtained permission to go out of
bounds. They had managed during breakfast to appropriate a sufficient
supply of bread and butter for all day. They started out to find Bruce's
dam. A long and weary tramp they had over the mountains. They turned
aside often to chase the gray squirrels that abounded in that country,
and they wasted much time in a fruitless attempt to dig out a red fox,
that had crossed their path and shot down a hole in the ground. They
were so long reaching the dam that they thought they must have been
misdirected. They were about to return, when Paul suddenly said, "Hark!
I think I hear water!" They listened intently for a few seconds. A
sound again came through the woods. They struck out a little to the
right and were soon at the long-sought, dam. It was a body of water
about one hundred yards wide and five hundred yards long. Enormous pine
stumps protruded through the surface. There was a miserable looking
saw-mill situated at the lower end. Two men were employed in drawing out
logs and ripping them up into boards. Paul tittered a joyful cry as
he perceived that the water was both clear and deep. Hastily he divested
himself of his clothing and "Stockie" slowly followed his example. As
they stood naked on the bank, before their plunge, a snake shot out
almost from under then feet, and swam gracefully over the surface to a
stump a little distance off. That was enough for "Stockie," who resumed
his clothes. Paul did not like the idea of snakes in the water, still
he had traveled far for a swim and he was resolved to have it and so he
plunged headlong in. Round and round among the stumps he swam. He saw
several snakes and also a number of water lizards. After his bath, Paul
and "Stockie" went down to the mill and had some talk with the men
engaged there. The latter assured them that the snakes and water lizards
were perfectly harmless. This restored "Stockie's" courage. He agreed
to try the water before leaving, provided Paul would go in with him.
The two chums had a long, delightful swim and finally, as sunset
approached, they suddenly thought that they might be needed at the
college. It was dark when they got back. They both received a severe
lecture for their long absence. Bruce's dam was several times revisited
and always with great enjoyment. At last vacation was over and these
pleasant pilgrimages came to an end. Paul kept the promise made to his
mother. During study time he applied himself with all his energies to
the task before him and so rapidly increased his store of knowledge;
but, he was also learning many things outside the school room. The
loneliness and surroundings of the college increased the natural
wildness of his nature. When recreation time approached, Paul would
pass the sign to the ever ready "Stockie." Then he would obtain
permission to leave the room on some pretext, and the other, by some
clever maneuver, would soon be after him. Then down to the dark, cool
pine woods to visit their "figure four" traps which they had set in
different places to catch squirrels. This trap consisted of a square box
placed on a piece of board and set with a little wooden trigger.
When a squirrel would enter to get the walnut fastened inside, he would
spring the trap and would not succeed in cutting his way out before
his young captor's arrival. They would slip a pillow-case, furnished
unconsciously by the college, under one corner of the box, turning it
off the bottom board until a little opening was made into the bag. The
squirrel of course would jump in, and was grabbed and twisted until it
was squeezed down to one corner. Then his captors would get a firm grip
on the back of his neck. If the squirrel proved to be a young one,
they would put on a collar and little chain, that they had always ready,
and keep him to train for a pet. Once Paul caught a gray squirrel
kitten so small and young that he had to feed it on milk and crushed
walnuts. He called it May. The tiny creature lived in his pocket and
desk and shared his bed at night. It would sit on the off page of his
book whilst he studied and comb its little whiskers and brush its
tail in perfect contentment. Every one marveled at the affection of his
pet and at the control he had over it. Paul would let it loose in the
woods, it would run up a tree and at his call, "Come May," it would
return at once and with a chuckle drop into his pocket. Paul kept this
squirrel until after he had left college. The crowded streets of the
city seemed to bewilder it, and it jumped from his pocket to the
sidewalk. A man passing struck it with a cane and killed it. Paul
grieved long over his pet; but from this experience he acquired a great
control over animals and always had a supply in hand to train. He
carried snakes and bugs and mice and lizards in his pockets and at one
time had a white rat that came very near to filling the place of the
lost May. If the boys captured an old squirrel, they generally let it
go; but sometimes it was retained for another purpose.
It would be taken back to the college and that evening put down through
a knot hole in the study-hall floor. The hole was carefully covered by
a small piece of board with the leg of Paul's desk to keep it down. Next
morning when all would be deep in their studies and a profound silence
filled the hall, Paul would quietly slip the board away from the hole.
Attracted by the light, the squirrel would soon come out. The studious
(?) boys who were posted, kept one eve on their books and one on the
hole. When the squirrel appeared, as it usually did in a short time
these would start up with well feigned cries of alarm. In a moment the
entire study-hall was in an uproar, all pursuing the bewildered
squirrel. The first or second time this occurred, the staid professor
took active part in the exciting chase. The frequent recurrence of
squirrel hunts in the study-hall awakened suspicion in the minds of
the faculty. An investigation was made, Paul and Stockie were called to
the president's room and interviewed regarding squirrels and their
habits. After this, the study-hall was no longer disturbed by these
little denizens of the forest.
About the last time that Paul went swimming to Bruce's dam, a decayed
thorn was driven into his foot, a portion of which he was unable to
remove. This troubled him occasionally. During the month of November the
foot commenced to swell in an alarming manner. He had to remain in the
dormitory for over a week. While he was still an invalid, a box arrived
from home full of cakes, candies, preserves and many other goodies dear
to a school-boy's heart. In the box was also a present from his younger
brother. It had been packed in without the knowledge of his mother. It
was a large Chinese firecracker. Paul carefully concealed this precious
gift until a grand occasion would come to fire it. At recess many of
the boys came up to see him, and incidentally to share in the delicasies
he had received. Stockie came also and told Paul that their crowd had
discovered a tale-bearer in the person of a youth from Johnstown, Penn.
He wound up by adding:
"And how are we to fix him?"
Paul answered mysteriously: "Leave it to me. I have it; bring me all the
string you can find."
From day to day Stockie produced liberal supplies of the desired
article. No doubt most of it belonged to the boy whose innocent pastime
was that of flying kites during recess. Paul wound this string firmly
and tightly around the Chinese cracker until it had assumed
considerable proportions. He argued on the principle that, if paper
resisted the force of the explosion, the additional binding of string
would cause a much louder one. The bomb was at last completed and
Stockie received a hint to keep his ears open for music that night. The
little iron bed of the doomed talebearer was not far distant from
Paul's, and between them was a stove in which burned a brisk fire every
night to drive out the chill mountain air. When all were asleep, Paul
slipped from his bed, and touched the fuse to the red hot side of the
stove. Then he placed the ignited bomb under the tell-tales bed and
hastily scrambled back to his own. He had just time to roll himself up
in the blankets, when there was a flash and terrible explosion. The
bed of the tell-tale turned a complete somersault, while the entire
building trembled with the concussion and a shower of broken glass
was scattered around. No serious damage was done; but Paul was horrified
and frightened half to death at the result of his first essay with
explosives. The boys in the dormitory were only too glad of an excuse
for excitement. They immediately began the usual battle with pillows
accompanied with the wildest yells and whoops, until they were suddenly
quieted by the entrance of the officials. No one could find out the
culprit, so the investigation was postponed until morning. Classes were
suspended next day. Every student, including the invalid, was present in
the study-hall. The entire faculty sat in judgment. The president
opened the meeting with a severe lecture, during which he quoted
that it "was better that ten guilty ones should escape rather than that
one innocent person should suffer." He called urgently upon the guilty
ones to stand up and declare themselves. His invitation was not
accepted.
"Now boys, you know that it is a strict dormitory rule that no one there
shall speak above a whisper. The noise you made last night was heard
distinctly in the village a mile away. All of you who did not break the
rule last night put up your hands."
Every boy's hand in the study hall was at once raised. The president
looked perplexed, and said: "Perhaps you misunderstood me. To make
it plain to you, I want every boy who did not raise his voice above a
whisper after retiring last night to stand up."
The first on their feet were Paul and Stockie, whose good example was
followed without any exception by every boy in the school. The president
was dumbfounded. He shook his head sadly. After a brief consultation
with the professors he remarked. "The young men now before me
are grievously lacking either in understanding or veracity." Numerous
were the mishaps that befell Paul and his companion Stockie, owing to
their love of wandering through the woods. When they were missed, a
professor was generally sent after the fugitives. In visiting their
squirrel traps they often separated, Stockie examining one trap, Paul
another. They would appoint a place of rendezvous, close to some well
known giant pine. The one to arrive first would call the other by a
loud whistle in close imitation of a quail. The other would answer
by a similar whistle. One day when about to mount the tree and give
his usual signal of recall, Paul discovered the professor, who had been
sent after them, approaching. Quickly he climbed into the tree and
concealed himself in the dense foliage. At this moment he heard
Stockie's familiar signal quite near the rendezvous, and to his
dismay, the professor, hidden behind a tree close by, repeated the
quail call, thus leading the unsuspecting Stockie to his doom. As
Stockie neared the tree in which Paul was hidden, he shouted: "I've
got two!" The professor stepped forward and said: "I have one!"
Paul could distinctly over-hear the professor question Stockie in regard
to his chum's whereabouts, all knowledge of which the latter loyally
but untruthfully denied. He had grasped the situation at a glance. The
professor with his captive remained a long while and the latter was
compelled to repeat the quail call time after time in hopes that the
other victim would respond. But the moaning of the pines was the
only answer. Finally the professor and his prisoner started for the
college. Paul slid down the tree and taking a shorter cut, was deep in
his books when they entered. Though strongly suspected, he escaped that
time, the poor captive receiving a double dose. Stockie was generally
unfortunate enough to get more than his share of punishment, but he was
thoroughly loyal to his friends and never murmured. It was customary,
when a boy had misbehaved himself or broken any rule, to send him to
the president's room where either reprimand or a thrashing awaited him.
One day a professor called Stockie during recess and said:
"As you are a good, swift runner, I want you to go over to the
President's room and ask for his letters. I want to put them in the
mail bag. The coach will be starting in a few minutes."
The president was not in his room and Stockie availed himself of the
chance to view the pictures hanging around the walls. The president
had just made the discovery that several of the boys had utterly ruined
some growing tobacco that he had been experimenting on, so he was in
bad humor when he entered his sanctum.
"What! You here again?"
And without permitting the astonished Stockie to speak he began to
administer a severe thrashing. The door was opened by the professor
who wanted the mail.
"Has he been in mischief already? Why I told him a few moments ago to
come here and get your letters." "Oh," exclaimed the president, "I
thought he had been sent here as usual, for punishment. Well, if he does
not deserve it now, he certainly will before the week is out."
Paul had organized a company of choice spirits who were known by the
title of the 'Wild Geese'. Each member named himself after his
own particular hero, such as Dick Turpin, Jack Shepard, Capt. Kidd and
other distinguished gentleman freebooters. The headquarters of the
association was in an abandoned log house about three miles from the
college. On half holidays the company would escape out of bounds
by different ways and assemble at headquarters. The cabin consisted of
one large earthen floor room with a loft above. The stairs leading up
to this loft had been cut away and a light ladder that could be easily
hauled up, substituted. The aperture closed down by a rough trap door
made for the purpose. This was done to afford concealment, in case any
of the professors should come looking for them, or protection against a
rival organization of larger boys, known as the "Wild Hens." When the
company assembled, it was customary for Paul, who was their chosen
chief, to detail parties to different duties. While some would be
cutting and collecting wood to burn in the huge fire-place in the lower
story, others would be off through the surrounding farms on a forage
for chickens, potatoes, apples, etc., etc. All the money in the
society would be entrusted to a committee of the most reliable
members. These would be dispatched to the village store to purchase
cheese, crackers, ginger-bread and other delicacies for the banquet.
The village store was owned by an old fellow by the name of Philip
Hardtsoe. He had expelled both Paul and Stockie from his territory on
account of an incident which had happened some time previous. The two
chums went in one day to buy a few cents worth of candy. They were
difficult to please and insisted that Philip should hand them some from
a jar on an upper shelf. While his back was turned Paul reached far into
a barrel where a few nice, red apples lay on the bottom. As he balanced
on his stomach over the chime of the barrel, Stockie saw his
opportunity for mischief and gave him a push that toppled him down on
his head. The noise caused old Philip to turn around. He thought the
lads only intended to fool him when they asked for the candy. He rushed
from behind the counter, easily capturing Paul, who was helpless in the
barrel, while Stockie dashed through the door roaring with laughter.
This was the reason that Philip would never allow either boy in his
store, so Paul and Stockie had to buy their candy by proxy.
But to return to the "Wild Geese." As the various committees reported,
they would find a roaring fire and everything ready for cooking. The
banquet table was generally prepared in the upper story or loft and
consisted of two long boards on trestles. The seats were round blocks
of wood. The chief luxuries of the banquet itself, besides the store
supplies, were chicken and potatoes. The chickens had been prepared
by rolling them in mud; then baking them. When fully cooked the feathers
came off. A sharp knife ripped them open and the baked entrails were
easily removed. The potatoes were simply roasted in the hot ashes. The
commoner articles of the banquet menu, such as bread, butter, salt and
pepper were always appropriated from the college table. The first
banquet that ever took place in the old log cabin followed the
election of officers. Paul was unanimously elected chief and escorted
to the head of the table. Stockie and Billy O'Meara, of Washington, as
first and second lieutenants, sat on either side. It is doubtful if
ever a pirate captain looked with more pride on his gallant crew, or
if a real banquet was ever more thoroughly enjoyed by the
participants.
Several times during the winter the "Wild Geese" were attacked by the
"Wild Hens." They were always repulsed excepting one day when the latter
were re-enforced by an alien crowd. The "Wild Geese" defended their
cabin bravely, but, were driven foot by foot, until they wore compelled
to retreat to the loft and draw up the ladder. The lower portion of the
cabin was in full possession of the besiegers, who demolished
everything they could lay their hands on, with much gusto. They did
their utmost to pry up the trap door, but were beaten back. Suddenly
to the "Wild Geese's" surprise, the lower part of the cabin was
abandoned by the Hens. They thought it a ruse to draw them out, so I
they lay quiet for some time. There were no windows in the loft. Bye and
bye Paul knocked a hole through the shingles of the roof. Protruding his
head he saw the Hens in a wild flight towards the forest. He could see
no cause for this until he knocked a hole through the other side of the
cabin roof. What he beheld was not calculated to cheer his heart.
Eight or ten of the professors were almost on the cabin. There was no
time or chance to escape. Paul commanded all hands to lie down and
keep still while himself and lieutenants sat on the trap door. The house
was quickly entered by the professors. Remarks such as "They must be
here," "The fire is still burning," "See the chicken feathers," etc.,
etc. ascended to the trembling urchins above.
"Is there no loft or upper story?" said one finally.
"I don't think so," responded another; "There is no means of getting up
there. They have all left. Here is their trail in the snow leading to
the woods."
All would have been well with the "Wild Geese" had not the unlucky
Stockie at this moment, given a loud sneeze. At which some of the
minor members of the company giggled. The chief looked sternly at the
culprit. He saw Stockie about to repeat the involuntary sneeze and
grabbed him by the nose and throat. Too late! The noise had been heard
below and the imperative command was given to "come down." Slowly the
trap-door was opened and the ladder descended. Then a scuffle ensued to
see who would go down last. The consequence was that two or three of the
Geese went down at the same time. Slowly and sorrowfully the prisoners
marched to the college where to add to their misery they beheld the
faces of the smiling and triumphant "Wild Hens." These had regained
"bounds" without being discovered and their loud cackling grated
discordantly on the nerves of the late banqueters. That evening,
singly and in pairs were the "Wild Geese" called over and interviewed by
the president. On their return to the study hall their flushed faces
and reddened eyes accompanied by rapid, mysterious signals, gave warning
to the waiting ones of the wrath to come. Paul and Stockie were the
last to be summoned. They found the president and the prefect of studies
in the star chamber.
"Be seated" was the brief command. "Do either of you know anything about
a secret organization called the 'Wild Geese'?"
The culprits saw that the customary denial of everything would not
answer in this case. They acknowledged that they had heard of such
a society. The President was satisfied that he had learned from the
other members about all the information that he needed, and that the
present interview would not add much to his knowledge, so he turned to
the two boys with a kindly smile and gave them a fatherly lecture on the
error of their ways. He urged them to promise that in the future they
would be more faithful to study and more obedient to the rules
of the institution. His kind tones made Paul and Stockie feel ashamed
and inspired them with the hope that this gentle lecture would be
their only punishment. They glanced congratulations at each other out
of the corners of their eyes.
"Now boys," said the president in conclusion, "you have promised me
faithfully to mend your conduct. To keep this promise fresh in your
memory, I have something to give you. My motto is to leave the best for
the last, so Master Paul will retain his seat. Take off your
jacket, Stockdale."
Disappointment and dismay were depicted on the two faces. Stockie made
many fruitless attempts to unbutton his jacket, unbuttoning two buttons
and buttoning one. At last the president's patience gave out and he
rushed on his victim with the strap. Now, in the room was an old-
fashioned bed, in which ropes were fastened from side to side, in lieu
of slats. To escape the strap, Stockie dove under this bed. The
president, who was somewhat rheumatic, could not reach him very well, so
he called upon the prefect and Paul to assist him in removing the bed.
They moved it from side to side around the room in vain, for Stockie was
holding on to the bed cords. Paul felt like an executioner to his
friend; but life is sweet. He glanced furtively at the prefect and
saw him convulsed with smothered laughter. The president made frantic
attempts to dislodge Stockie and Paul dashed through the door to
liberty. Later, Stockie appeared and cheered Paul with the information
that his punishment would come when he had gone to bed. Paul looked
the situation over and at last thought of a plan of escape. He sent
Stockie into the hall to call out an unsuspicious youth whom he named.
This boy soon appeared and Paul told him all about the tribulations of
the "Wild Geese." He said he was certain he knew the informer, the
villain who had brought all this dire disaster. He had a plan to punish
the tale-bearer. He would like to exchange beds that night with his
listener, so that he would be near the villain's bed. Then he would put
a handful of red pepper over the mouth and nose while he snored.
Was his friend willing? His friend thought the cause a just one and
readily agreed to the proposed arrangement. That night the innocent
youth slipped into Paul's bed and the avenger joyfully nestled in his,
at the other side of the dormitory. About an hour after the boys had
retired, a tall figure, with stealthy step passed in the direction of
Paul's bed. There was a suppressed scuffle and the clear sound of a
strap coming in contact with its victim, while a low, stern voice was
heard saving: "Not a word sir; not a word. Don't dare to raise your
voice above a whisper. You deserve it all and more." After a few moments
Professor Justice retired with the same stealthy step. There was
convulsive sobbing in Chief Paul's bed, and the other boys covered their
heads with their blankets in dread of a similar visitation.
The boy who suffered that night is now a brilliant judge and well known
politician. But he always believed that he had been punished for
changing beds and wondered not a little that his companion had escaped
similar castigation.
The boys were obliged to rise very early in the morning. The first duty
of the day was to proceed to the chapel for prayers, and religious
instruction. But many of the lads preferred to gather around the red hot
stove of the study hall where they could tend to their devotions with
more liberty and comfort than in the chilly chapel. If they were missed,
a professor was sent to ascertain their whereabouts. He was generally
discovered in time by the boy detailed by his companions as look out.
The study hall and dormitories formed a building separate from the rest
of the college. As the professor approached from the main building, the
boys would leap from the low windows of the study hall into the snow.
Sometimes the professor was suspicious and would reconnoiter outside the
study hall; but the boys were alert and as he passed around a corner,
they would get around another and so they often escaped to the chapel.
One morning the president missed several of his jewels and started
himself for the study hall determined to capture them. As usual, the
boys clambered through the windows and escaped in different
directions always keeping the hall between them and their pursuer.
Stockie, Billy O'Meara and Paul adopted the old rule of sneaking away
from one corner of the hall, while the president advanced around
another. The pursuit was very close, for the president was sure from the
tracks in the snow, that some of the boys were dodging him.
Stockie and O'Meara broke for the shelter of another building; but Paul
continued to dodge around the study hall. Once the president failed to
appear at the expected corner. Paul feared that he might be doubling on
him and so crept cautiously on all fours back to the corner he had left
to take a look around that side of the building. As he warily put his
head out to take the observation it came in hard contact with that of
the president, who had adopted Paul's own tactics to catch him. The
situation was so ludicrous that even that austere gentlemen burst out
laughing and Paul scampered away to the chapel.
A favorite resort for the boys during winter weather was a barn where
they had rare sport tumbling over the great quantities of hay in the
loft. A party of them were one day enjoying this pastime, when a stern
voice below commanded them to "descend immediately," supplemented by the
ominous and oft repeated expression, "I know you all, I, have your
names." Some of the boys descended, but Paul and four companions
clambered out on the roof of a wagon shed. This roof was very steep and
was covered with about three feet of snow. Here they squatted down and
awaited results. The professor took the names of the boys who had
descended and ordered them to the study hall. This gentleman, by the
way, was very successful in discovering culprits, and was known
facetiously by the boys as the "blood-hound." He was sure he had not
found all the truants, but he saw they were not in the loft, so he
began a tour outside of the barn to ascertain how they had escaped.
Slowly he walked around the wagon shed carefully scrutinizing every
place in which he thought they might be concealed. The snow, loosened by
the heat and extra weight of the unlucky boys, gave way and
precipitated them over the head and shoulders of the astounded
professor.
One form of punishment inflicted by the faculty was termed "corrence."
The culprit was deprived of his meals mid compelled to remain at study
in the hall while the others enjoyed their repast. This was a severe
punishment to healthy, growing boys, whose appetites were whetted by the
keen mountain air. On the "corrence" list one day appeared the names of
William O'Meara and Paul Boyton. This was no infrequent occurrence.
These boys did not seem much distressed. There was a secret
understanding among the then suppressed "Wild Geese" that none of
their number should suffer the pangs of hunger while provisions could
be obtained from the table. The faculty must have found out
this fraternal understanding, for on the day in question every boy was
examined as he left the refectory and everything eatable in his
possession confiscated. The day was hard for Billy and Paul. By night
they were wild with hunger and vowed to make a raid on the kitchen or
die. The kitchen in question was in the deep basement of the main
building, lit up by small windows fully six feet above the floor. When
the cooks had retired, Billy and Paul made their way to one of these
windows. They pried it open. Paul persuaded his companion to crawl into
the window head first, while he lowered him by holding on to his legs
and feet. He instructed Billy that when the floor was reached he could
with the aid of a chair easily pass out the much needed supplies.
Billy began his descent. When lowered as far as Paul could reach he
said:
"I can't feel the floor, pull me up."
Just then there was a deep growl heard in the kitchen and footsteps
approaching from the outside. Paul did not have time or strength to
haul Billy up again, so letting him go by the run, he started to his
feet and disappeared in the darkness. Billy was seized by a large
Newfoundland dog that held him fast until discovered by the cooks who
came down to find out the cause of the noise.
The refectory of the college was a long, narrow room with a table
extending its entire length. Each boy was supposed to stand in his place
with folded hands and bowed head, while grace was being said by the
professor at the end of the table. But such keen appetites could hardly
wait for the blessing to be called. While one hand was devoutly raised,
in case the professor would look down along the table, the other grasped
a fork and all eyes were fixed of the dishes of meat. Smothered
exclamations of "That's my piece with the fat;" "The middle piece is
mine," "I like the lean," etc., passed along the line. As the amen
rang out, every fork was darted into the longed for meat, as a harpoon
is sent into a whale.
Not far from the college lived an irascible old gentleman who owned a
rich farm and some very fine horses of which he took great pride. Paul
and his chums looked on these lovely animals with envious eyes, and
often wished that they could capture one and enjoy a ride. One day
Stockie and Paul went to the woods at the bottom of a field that led by
a gentle ascent to the farm house. They had with them a pillow-slip half
full of oats. They were trying to induce a magnificent looking colt to
approach them. The colt was shy, but the oats were tempting. He came
near enough to taste them and submitted gently to the boy's caresses and
even permitted them to lead him around by the forelock. "Now Stockie,"
said Paul, "I will hold him by the nose and mane. You jump from that
stump and take the first ride."
With a spring, Stockie mounted the animal's back. The colt broke from
Paul and dashed madly away, Stockie clinging to him like a cat. The
creature never stopped in its mad career until it had reached the farm
yard. With a terrific leap it unseated Stockie, who tumbled uninjured
but paralyzed with fear, into a pile of manure from which he was dragged
by the enraged farmer. As his friend disappeared, Paul made a beeline
for the college. Soon after poor Stockie was brought in by the farmer
and delivered into the hands of the president. It was some time before
the victim was able to sit at his desk with any degree of comfort.
With such adventures as these, two years of college life glided by and
then the parting came. Paul had progressed rapidly in his classes for
his was a character that applied itself to books, as devotedly as it did
to play. His best loved study was navigation, and he often surprised
the gray-haired old professor by his knowledge in this quarter. His
open, fearless nature had endeared him to his teachers and despite
the punishments; he had learned to love the college life so his going
was viewed with regret by both sides. The college was in its infancy
when Paul's name was on the pupil's roll. He returned to visit it some
years ago, to find it grown into one of the great educational
institutions of the land. Many of our brightest and best men lovingly
roll it their Alma Mater. The venerable president received him with open
arms. He put Paul's picture in his gallery of the boys who were a
credit to the institution, and both talked over old times and life's
many changes with emotion, and laughed heartily over certain well
remembered experiences. Paul felt a deep pang of remorse at the praise
and the welcome, for his memory bore another record.
During Paul's sojourn at college, his family had moved from Alleghany to
New York. His father was an importer of sea-shells, corals, marine
curiosities anal oriental goods, of which he made annual sales in the
chief cities of the country. He took Paul with him and gave him the
first lesson in business. Travel suited Paul immensely; but business was
irksome and the civil war was still raging. Stirring accounts of
the conflicts in the south, and the martial air that pervaded the entire
country, filled Paul's soul with longing to go to the front.