Читать книгу Two College Friends - Frederic W. Loring - Страница 5

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It was just after supper; and the Professor, with his thoughts still occupied by Tom and Ned, walked slowly toward his room through the dimly-lighted yard, where the twilight was half dispelled by the gleams of gas-light that stole from the windows around. He sauntered along, enjoying the sweet spring air of the evening, and touching his hat to one boy after another until he came by Ned’s entry, when he turned, and took his way to the room of his boys. He had stopped, as he passed through the square, for his paper, and had noticed that a crowd seemed to be eagerly and excitedly discussing the news of the evening around the post-office. Pausing an instant in the entry to look at his paper, before ascending the stairs, his eye fell on an announcement which caused him to utter an exclamation of surprise; and he rushed eagerly into the room, with the words:—

“Boys, have you heard the news?”

Ned turned from the glass, where he was tying his cravat, and Tom raised himself from his lounge; but before either of them had an opportunity to answer, the Professor said:—

“There has been a quarrel here. Now, boys, I must know all about it. See, I’m going to spring the lock, and have you clear your minds at once.”

“There’s nothing to clear,” said Tom.

“Speak for yourself, if you please,” said the Professor. “You may not have a mind at all; but I know that Ned has, to a limited extent. Doubtless you are both wrong; so let me see which will be gentleman enough to apologize first. Come, boys, this matter must be set right. ‘Let not the sun go down upon your wrath’ is one of the best pieces of advice ever given.”

“It is after sunset now,” said Ned; “and we are not both wrong. I am right.”

“Cheerful self-confidence,” said the Professor. “Please let me understand the cause of wrath.”

“Simply because I object to the Blush Rose,” said Ned. “I say that he has come between us.”

“And I say”—broke in Tom.

“Hush, Tom!” said the Professor, “until Ned has finished.”

“I have nothing more to say,” said Ned, “except that Tom must, once for all, choose between us.”

“Very well,” said Tom; “as you please; only, while I don’t care for any fellow as I do for you, I’m not going to submit to dictation.”

“You’re entangled with some woman, through Blodgett,” said Ned. “He’s a nice associate for a gentleman, he is.”

“I entangled with a woman!” repeated Tom. “Why, Ned! you’re crazy.”

“Whose picture is it that you are carrying?” asked Ned.

“Oh, thunder!” said Tom; “is that what all this row is about?”

“I suppose you’ve fallen in love, and in Junior year too!” continued Ned, wrathfully and contemptuously.

“Juniors have done such things before,” observed the Professor.

“Fallen in love!” said Tom; “as if I’d do that! Look here, old fellow, if you knew about that picture, you’d ask my pardon.”

“Well, as I don’t, I shan’t,” said Ned.

“Come, boys,” said the Professor, “this ridiculous quarrel, worthy only of a couple of little children, has gone quite far enough. Ned, I think you are petulant and absurd; but if you will go out for a few minutes, and take a short walk, Tom will unbosom himself to me, I am sure.”

“Well, I call that cheek, to turn a man out of his own room,” said Ned.

“Correct that sentence, please, Ned,” said the Professor. “You would call it cheek if it were not done by a member of the Faculty. There, be off with you. And now, Tom, tell your story.”

“I haven’t any,” said Tom; “only Ned is in one of his moods.”

“Then you are not in love,” said the Professor.

“Why, no!” said Tom, “how could I be?”

“I don’t know,” replied the Professor; “but people are sometimes. And have you a secret connected with that fat, red-faced brute, Blodgett, whom you call the Blush Rose?”

“Well, yes,” said Tom: “it’s about a photograph.”

“Let us see this photograph,” said the Professor. “Explain!”

“Why, it’s a surprise for Ned, don’t you see?” said Tom. “It’s the proof picture of me in the last theatricals. See, there I am as Marton, the Pride of the Market.”

“What a mistake nature made about your sex, Tom!” said the Professor. “You dear little peasant girl, put yourself away directly; and now take my advice: show it to Ned; it will make him ashamed of his folly, and will prevent any further angry words between you. It is hard to quarrel, and so you will think some day, though now you find it so easy. There, put it away; for I hear Ned’s footsteps on the stairs! Come in, Ned! Why! what has happened?”

For Ned, standing in the open door-way, his perverse moodiness all gone, wore an expression the Professor had never seen before.

“Happened!” said Ned. “Something to live for, something to die for. We know now that we have a country. Haven’t you heard the news?”

“Dear me!” said the Professor, “that’s what I came to tell you; but your quarrel drove it out of my head.”

“How could anything else come into your head?” said Ned.

“Tell me what it is,” asked Tom, impatiently.

“The President has called the people to arms, to aid him in saving the country,” said Ned, fairly glowing as he spoke.

“Yes,” said the Professor, “is it not grand to think that we are aroused at last?”

“Well,” said Ned, “I have still more to tell you. I have enlisted.”

There was a pause of a few moments; then the Professor grasped Ned’s hand, and said simply:—

“My noble boy!”

“What do you say, Tom?” asked Ned.

“I’m going with you, old fellow,” said Tom; and he threw his arm over Ned’s shoulder, and smiled at the Professor.