CHAPTER XXV

JACK HOBART'S PROPOSITION

Jack Hobart's recovery was rapid. The fear which Doctor Leslie had first felt that there might be some internal injuries was soon dispelled, and though the shock to Jack's system had been severe, his sturdy frame soon asserted itself, and very soon he was pronounced out of all danger.

The spring and early summer days almost seemed to rush past Ward Hill, so swiftly did they go. Each day was filled with its routine work, and as he was working hard to pass Berry in his class, he had little inclination or time to devote to outside matters.

The boy, however, was no book-worn, or "dig," as the Weston boys designated one who was devoted to books alone, and the class meetings, frequent now that the end of the year was so near, the school life, and the companionship of the boys all appealed to him strongly.

But even stronger than his desire to win a high standing in his scholarship was his determination to carry off the prize in declamation. In lieu of the ordinary "graduating exercises," there was each year a contest for two prizes, in which all of the seniors and a few of the boys in the class below them whose standing was sufficiently high were permitted to compete. Preliminary contests were held and the number of contestants was somewhat decreased before the final trial occurred.

Ward and Henry already had succeeded in passing the first of these trials and were sure of a place on the program for the final and deciding contest. This was to occur in the evening of the last day of the term, and many of the parents and friends of the boys, as well as a large number of former students who came back to revisit the scenes of their school-days and perhaps strive to catch something of the contagion of the spirit of life and enthusiasm, were expected to be present. Jack Hobart was not to compete for the prize, as he had but little ability in that line; but he was almost as much interested in Ward's success as he would have been in his own. Together they went almost every afternoon to one of the secluded spots on the hillsides, and while Ward awakened the echoes by his eloquence, Jack sat by and listened in solemn admiration or passed such criticisms as occurred to him, and Ward found his friend's suggestions frequently of great value.

Only a week remained now before the prize speaking was to take place. Ward and Jack were returning from their daily visit to the woods, and as they walked on their thoughts naturally reflected their feelings.

"I don't know how it is," Jack was saying, "but somehow I have a mighty queer feeling at the close of this year. This makes four years I have been in the Weston school, and any one would naturally think I'd be glad to be out of it. Of course in a way I am, but somehow I'm broken up by it too. The first thing I do every morning is to take a good look at the Hump. The old hill is always there just the same, but I'm half afraid every morning to look out for fear he's hidden himself somewhere."

"It's become a part of your life, I fancy," said Ward soberly. "Last year when the end came, it almost seemed to me as if the mountains here were frowning upon me, but this year they seem like steps or ladders up to something better."

"And they are," said Jack enthusiastically. "I suppose we're somewhat broken up to think the end has come and that we've got to scatter now. Some of the fellows I sha'n't feel very bad about leaving, but when I think of some of the others, it almost seems to me as if I just couldn't go on without them, and that is all there is to it. It just seems to me, Ward, as if I couldn't go on without you. I don't believe, old fellow, you ever realized how much you are to me. I never had a brother; but it seems to me, Ward, that if we had both had the same father and same mother we couldn't be more to each other."

Jack was evidently affected, and Ward's heart responded to that of his impulsive friend in an instant.

"I never had a brother either, Speck, but I feel as if I had one now." Almost instinctively the boys stopped and clasping hands looked earnestly into each other's face. There was something almost sacred in the hand-clasp, as if it were a pledge of a lifelong love.

The love between brother and sister, father and son, mother and daughter, husband and wife, are all sacred and beautiful, but the love between two boys or young men has in it also something that is very nearly sublime. God pity the man who has never known what it was to have a deep-abiding love for another of his own sex. Something is wanting in his make-up to cause such a lack, and his life too will never know the fullness of its best meaning without that experience. Friends and friendship! "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly," wrote a keen observer of men many centuries ago. But with a friendship once formed no true man ever ought to let anything break in upon it.

And these lifelong friendships are almost never formed in after years. They come, if they come at all, in the days of boyhood or young manhood. That is the seed-sowing time for friendship, as it is for a good many of the other good things of life.

"I've been thinking it over a good deal, Ward," said Jack, "and I talked with my mother about it too when she was here. Now you're going on to college and so am I. I don't want to break up what's been begun between us here if it can be avoided. Now you know I did think of going away from home to college, and of course I may do that yet, but whatever comes I want to go with you. You can't tell how you have helped me by the fight you've made this year. I ought to have such a fellow with me all the time. There's no telling what I might do if I had."

Ward smiled but made no other reply. Jack's words had stirred him deeply, but he had learned too much in the year that was now almost gone to put a very high estimate upon the value of the "fight" to which his friend referred.

"What I want to say," said Jack, "if I can only get at it, is, that rather than not be with you I'd be glad to go to the college in my own town and have you come right there and live in our house all through the course. There! I've managed to get it out at last, but that's just exactly what I mean."

"You are good to me, Jack," said Ward slowly.

"That's not it, for you'd be the one to confer the favor, let me tell you. My mother would be only too glad to have you come, for she says that then she'd be sure to have me home for a time. She says my absence, lo, these many years, has been the only 'speck' on her horizon. Now if you'll say the word, it's all settled, college, room, chum, and all."

"I hope you won't think me ungrateful, Jack, but I can't answer you now, though honestly I don't believe my father would be willing to accept such a gift. He'll feel proud as a peacock that you thought enough of me to make me such an offer, and he'll appreciate your kindness too; but I don't believe you can understand just how he feels about some things. He wouldn't be quite willing to receive such a favor, I think, unless he saw some way of returning it."

"But he would return it and more," said Jack eagerly.

"I don't just see how."

"By letting you come. Your company, and the influence of such a fellow on your humble servant would be something which would be more than just a mere matter of a gift. We'd be so glad to have you, we'd think it a great bargain, and if there's anything in all the world, next to me, my mother loves, it's a bargain."

Ward laughed, but Jack was too much in earnest to be turned from his purpose.

"Let's go over to Mr. Crane's room and talk with him. Will you do it, Ward?"

"Yes, I'll go over to his room, but I hope you won't think I don't appreciate what you've said, Jack, if I say I can't settle the matter now, and that I am more than half afraid my father won't agree to it, though I know he'll thank you."

"I don't expect you to give in at once," said Jack. "It's asking too much. But come on! We'll go right over to Mr. Crane's room now."

Whatever the impulsive lad wished to do must be done at once, and as Ward consented, in a few minutes both of them were seated in the teacher's room.

"We want to know, Mr. Crane," said Jack, not broaching his project at once, "what you think about colleges. We want to get your opinion, if you're willing to give it to us."

"What I think about college?" replied Mr. Crane. "I thought you understood pretty well what my opinion about that was, long before this time. You know I am a strong believer in every boy going who can do so without too great a strain upon his parents."

"That isn't exactly what I mean," said Jack. "We both of us know how you feel about that. But what college do you prefer?"

"That depends. I prefer some colleges for certain boys and should advise others to go to different ones. It is impossible to formulate a fixed rule for every case."

"But which is better, a large college or small?"

"Again, that depends," replied Mr. Crane with a smile. "If a boy has means, and his character is fairly well developed when he goes so that he will not be likely to be lost in the crowd, undoubtedly he can gain certain advantages in some of the larger colleges he never could find in the smaller. Their larger endowments and better equipments are certainly no small matter to be considered. On the other hand, if a boy is somewhat diffident and immature and needs bringing out more than he needs to be filled, doubtless he would do better in a small college. There is more of the personal contact there between the student and his teachers, and his own individual needs are looked to much better. In general, I may say if what a boy needs is the development of himself, the smaller college will do more for him. If what he needs is not so much the bringing out of himself as the filling up, the larger college is the place for him."

"That places Jack and me in two different classes, then," said Ward.

"I am not so sure of that," replied Mr. Crane. "You have both of you been away to school now, and have been thrown back upon yourselves. You have learned to depend upon your own efforts, and I do not regard it as in the least probable that either of you would be swallowed up and lost in the crowd in a large college. It is no slight advantage to have had two years at Weston before you go."

"I wish we could keep right on at Weston, and not have to go anywhere else," said Jack.

"No, I hardly think you really wish that, Hobart. Of course, now that you are about to leave us you forget all the unpleasant things and remember only the pleasant ones. I would not have it otherwise, and trust that some of us will still be a part of your lives, even when you are apart from us. But when one becomes a man he is compelled to leave childish things. All that you have been doing has been leading up to this time, and now you must face it."

"Of course I know that must be so," said Jack quietly, "and I suppose if we really thought we should have to come back we wouldn't like it a little bit. But what I really wanted to know, Mr. Crane, was what you thought about Ward coming down and living with me in my home and going to college there with me."

Ward's face flushed slightly, and he added: "Jack hasn't told it all. What he wants is for me to live with him and not to pay anything for the privilege."

"That isn't----" began Jack.

Mr. Crane interrupted him and said: "I think I understand; but it's a question in which I fancy others besides you boys may be interested."

"That's just it," said Jack quickly, "My mother wants him even more than I do."

"But there's my father to be thought of too," said Ward. "He may not want me to do it."

"Precisely," said Mr. Crane. "That's a question I cannot answer. You see I am the one being examined now, and you are the examiners; and I have failed."

"There's some hope for me then if the teachers themselves fail," said Jack laughingly.

"Personally I never had that feeling others describe as being unwilling to accept a favor," said Mr. Crane. "Few of these so-called 'favors' are all on one side. They are almost always a species of 'give and take.' However, I am no judge for others, and sometimes think I have more than I can do to look after myself. I shall be interested to learn your decision."

The boys departed, and soon after went to their own rooms with the problem still unsolved.

Ward was deeply touched by Jack's offer and his eagerness for him to accept it. If he should do so, he well knew what a load would be lifted from his father's shoulders, but still he thought he understood what his father's decision would be.

The few remaining days of the term now rapidly came. Ward was working busily and the visits to the glen with Jack increased. He was more anxious than he cared to show about the prize for declamation, but his anxiety only served to increase his labors. Henry was to compete also, but somehow the boys did not often refer to the contest in the other's presence. The best of feeling prevailed, but both were eager to win, although if either lost he sincerely desired the other to win.

On Monday, the visitors in the village began rapidly to increase. "Old boys," as the students called the former students, many of them now gray-haired men and coming up to Weston with their own sons or grandsons, arrived by every bus. The parents and sisters, and brothers of the graduating class also came, and the beauty of the little village was greatly enhanced by the bright apparel of the girls and the interested groups of the visitors who wandered about among the school buildings or along the wide streets.

When Ward's father and mother came, the welcome they received from him was far different from that he had given them in the preceding year. He was all eagerness, and his happiness was so apparent that it speedily became contagious, and as he brought the boys up to meet his father and mother his heart was overflowing as he heard the warm words for him on almost every side.

On Tuesday night the contest for the prize in declamation was to be held. As the hour approached Ward's excitement became greater, although his outward calm was not disturbed. A great audience assembled to listen to the boys, and at last Doctor Gray, who presided, advanced to the front of the platform to announce the first speaker of the evening.