A LITTLE PILGRIMAGE
That night Congressman Carlton entertained the Cleverly delegation at
dinner. It was a merry party, for they all felt very happy over their
preliminary victory in the matter of the new Federal station. Barry was
included among the dinner guests, and he conducted himself with due
modesty, and yet with all of the confidence of a veteran statesman. The
episode of the afternoon naturally came in for a large share of
conversation. The various members of the party viewed it according to
their respective methods of viewing life.
"I think we might as well go ahead and advertise for proposals," said
Postmaster Ford, who had the reputation of being the most optimistic man
in Cleverly. "The bill's as good as passed. It's a sure thing!"
Congressman Carlton laughed.
"I wish you would loan me your rose-colored glasses, Ford," was his
comment; "you certainly look on the sunny side of things."
"It's the only way to succeed," was the jovial response. "I think
pessimists should be suppressed by law."
"What do you think of that, Mr. Blake?" asked the legislator, turning to
Barry's uncle.
Hiram was a cautious man. He paused for some moments before replying. He
spoke, finally, with great deliberation:
"I think it's a great mistake for any of us, either as individuals or as
a community, to count our chickens before they are hatched."
Daniel Smithers had remained silent during the interchange of views.
John Carlton glanced in his direction.
"What has the philosopher of Cleverly to say on the burning subject of
the hour?"
The schoolmaster modestly disclaimed the title, saying that as far as
wisdom was concerned, there was safety in numbers.
"But what do you think of the situation?" insisted the Congressman.
"Well," said the other, "I think Ford and Blake are extremists. I see no
occasion for either joy or sorrow."
"Smithers is hedging," called a voice from the other side of the table.
"Not at all," protested the teacher. "As I view the situation, we have
every reason to be satisfied. We have won the skirmish, but the big
battle is still to be fought. Moreover, it does not take a very bright
observer to see that Mr. Carlton has a very resourceful and determined
adversary in Jesse Hudson. He was very much chagrined over his setback
this afternoon, and if I am not very much mistaken in my man he will do
his best to keep Cleverly from getting the new Naval Repair Station."
Mr. Carlton nodded his head.
"You've sized the situation up to the dot. There's no use blinking our
eyes to the truth. I'm up against the hardest fight of my life. While
you're with me, gentlemen, I feel your enthusiasm and strength. But
when you go away you must not forget that--"
"That you'll be standing all alone against a combination of clever
politicians," interrupted Hiram Blake.
The Congressman laughed.
"That's not exactly what I intended to say," he remarked, "but we'll let
it go at that."
"Blake's wrong in one particular," observed Smithers.
"How?"
"You won't be alone in this fight."
"No?"
"No; you'll have Barry Wynn with you."
Barry, sitting at the far end of the table, blushed to the roots of his
hair.
In the evening the delegation went to one of the theatres in Washington
as the guests of John Carlton. He purchased an entire box in honor of
the occasion, and thus his friends were able to see and hear to great
advantage. The play was one of James M. Barrie's whimsical comedies, and
to say that they all enjoyed it would be putting it very mildly indeed.
The company was competent and the play itself was not only humorous but
wholesome as well. Cleverly, while a thriving town, did not always have
the privilege of seeing the best plays, and, as a consequence, this
visit to the theatre in Washington was an opportunity that was
remembered a long while by each member of the delegation.
After the performance Congressman Carlton escorted his friends to their
hotel, and as they were about to part for the night, he said:
"Well, gentlemen, I shall be engaged all day tomorrow with my official
duties, and I am going to place you in the hands of Barry Wynn. He will
act as my representative. Now, is there anything in particular that you
would like to do tomorrow?"
One after another said that they had no special object in view. Finally,
Mr. Carlton turned to the boy and said:
"Barry, what do you say? What suggestion have you to make?"
Barry, thus suddenly appealed to, was at a loss what to say. In a
moment or two, however, a thought flashed into his mind and he gave it
voice:
"I think a trip to Mount Vernon would come pretty nearly filling the
bill."
"Good!" ejaculated the Congressman. "I can think of nothing that would
be pleasanter or more profitable. A pilgrimage to the tomb of
Washington! It's the very thing."
Everybody agreed to the proposition and a call was left with the night
clerk at the hotel so that they would be able to have an early breakfast
and start out on their trip in good season. They had all breakfasted by
nine o'clock the following morning and were ready for the day's sight
seeing. The trip was made by rail, and after reaching the home of the
Father of his Country, the members separated and spent nearly two hours
in viewing every part of the historic estate. They were all enchanted
with the simplicity of Mount Vernon. Standing on the colonial porch,
they could look out and see the Potomac river shimmering in the
distance. Mr. Smithers voiced the general opinion when he said that
Washington could not have secured a more ideal residence in which to
spend his honorable old age.
Although they were all men, the members of the delegation were greatly
interested in the quaint dining-room, and they admired the Colonial
china, the antique furniture, and the picturesque surroundings. They
stood in the hallway and looked up the open staircase, which Nellie
Custis had walked down one beautiful morning to become a bride. Indeed,
they were all intelligent men, and all having read the life of
Washington and the history of the country to advantage, they associated
every part of the old mansion with some interesting anecdote.
Mr. Smithers was particularly interested in the boyish recollections of
the great Washington. He gazed with particular keenness on the little
bundle of books which the future President of the country had read with
such profit when a boy. He examined minutely the fragments of school
exercises which showed the round, fair handwriting which has since
become so familiar to the civilized world. He noted among the papers
many copies of legal forms written by the youthful Washington, as well
as the set of rules regarding behavior. It was evident that these rules,
while sounding somewhat stilted, had had a remarkable effect in moulding
the boy's mind and in forming his character.
"Look at this one, Barry," said the old schoolmaster, "it is worth
remembering."
Barry looked over the shoulder of his old friend and read:
"Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial
fire called 'conscience.'"
Hiram Blake and Postmaster Ford, who were standing back of the other
two, nodded their assent and indicated by their manner, if not in words,
that a boy who would keep that maxim before him at all times could not
fail to become a useful member of society.
"Here's another one worth hearing," called out Mr. Smithers.
"What is it?" asked Hiram.
"Let your discourse with men of business be short and
comprehensive,"
read the schoolmaster, slowly.
"Good," cried Postmaster Ford. "That should be printed on a card and
placed on the desk of every busy man. It might frighten off the bores."
All the members of the party were now straining to see the little book,
which was kept out of the reach of vandals. Hiram Blake read a maxim as
follows:
"Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust."
The Postmaster recited the next one:
"Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be careful to keep your
promise."
Before they left, the attendant of the estate gave them an outline of
the history of Mount Vernon. He said that it was the property of the
Mount Vernon Association, which had incorporated many years before for
the purpose of purchasing and holding the estate in perpetuity. The
association, he added, was composed of ladies of the United States and
was ably managed by a Board of lady Regents. Mount Vernon descended to
George Washington when he was about twenty-one years of age, from his
half brother, Lawrence Washington, and from that time until his death,
on the 14th of December, 1799, it was his home.
The time had passed so quickly and so pleasantly that it was now almost
noon, and it was decided that if they desired to reach their hotel in
time for lunch, they would have to move at once. As they were about to
pass out of the grounds, a large automobile came round one corner of the
property, prepared to resume its journey to the Capitol. Four gentlemen
were in this party. They had been inspecting Mount Vernon at the same
time as the delegation from Cleverly. The gentleman in charge, who
appeared to be paying a great deal of attention to the other three, was
rather dignified. But he had a very agreeable manner and frequently
said things that caused his companions to laugh.
Barry had been watching this gentleman for some time, and now he stood
gazing at him as though he were fascinated. There was something familiar
about him. Barry felt that he had met him before and yet, try as he
could, the memory of such a meeting would not come to his mind.
While Barry was still engaged in this mental debate, a sudden gust of
wind came along and took the stranger's hat from his head. It fell to
the ground and being lifted up again by the breeze, started off toward
the Potomac river, with the certainty and speed of a bird. Barry did not
hesitate, not even for a fraction of a second. He started after the
truant hat as fast as his legs would carry him.
It was a wild chase, but the boy won. He picked up the head-piece and
started back breathless but triumphant. The gentleman came running
toward him, meeting him half way. The incident had not disturbed his
temper. He was in the best of good humor.
"You 're a better sprinter than I," he said, jovially, "but when I was
your age I think I could have beaten you."
The boy and the man stood talking for some moments. The gentleman was
evidently asking many questions and Barry, very much embarrassed, was
answering the best he could.
"Looks as if Barry had made a new friend," commented Mr. Smithers.
Before anyone had a chance to reply, Barry was escorting the stranger
towards the delegation from Cleverly. He presented each of them in their
turn, but he was so flustered that no one caught the name of the
newcomer. Mr. Smithers and Postmaster Ford, however, looked at the
stranger very curiously and there was something very much like reverence
in their eyes. He chatted very amiably for a few moments and spoke about
the historic importance of the ground on which they were standing.
"By the by," he said, turning to Barry, "you're a page boy; do you know
Mr. John Carlton?"
"He's the member that had me appointed," replied Barry, proudly.
"Good," was the cordial response, "I'm glad to hear it. Carlton is an
able man and," half musingly, "he's a coming man, too; a coming man."
The members of the delegation looked at one another significantly. It
was a pleasure to them to hear anyone commend their Congressman.
Presently the stranger prepared to depart.
"I am very glad to have seen you gentlemen here," he said. "I think that
every man who has the opportunity to pay a pilgrimage to Mount Vernon
should do so."
They agreed with him, and presently, after some more talk, he turned and
said:
"Where's that little page boy?"
Barry was pushed to the front, and the stranger shook hands with him
very cordially.
"It does me good to shake hands with you," he said. "I like all boys,
but I have a special liking for boys who are bright and ambitious."
The next moment he had stepped into the automobile with his friends, and
as the machine puffed out of the gateway, he turned in his seat and
waved his hand, exclaiming:
"Good-bye, and good luck to you all."
It was all done so quickly that the visitors scarcely had time to get
their bearings. Hiram Blake, who had been looking after the vanishing
machine like a man in a stupor, was the first to speak:
"Who is that man?" he demanded.
"That," answered Barry, proudly, "is the President of the United
States!"
"I thought so," commented Mr. Smithers; "he had the air of a man of
authority."
"Yes," remarked Postmaster Ford, "I was sure it was he, and he looks
just like his pictures."
An hour later the members were taking their lunch at the hotel in
Washington, and before dusk that evening, they had started on their
return trip to Cleverly.
"Good-bye," cried Congressman Carlton, who was on the station platform
as they boarded the train, "I will promise to do the best I can with
that bill."
Mr. Smithers, who was the last one to get on the train, thought of the
incident at Mount Vernon, and replied significantly:
"I am sure you won't fail us--not when you have the assistance of such a
bright boy as Barry Wynn."