Grace Harlowe's Second Year at Overton College Part 20

"Gently, gently!" exclaimed Hippy, raising his hand in expostulation. "I was about to say that you, Nora, are a splendid fighter"--he paused significantly--"for the right. What can be more n.o.ble than to fight for the right? Now, aren't you sorry you repudiated me? If you will say so immediately I will overlook the other remark. But you must be quick.

Time and I won't wait a minute. Remember, I'm going away to-morrow."

"Good-bye," retorted Nora indifferently. "I'll see you again some day."

"'Forsaken, forsaken, forsaken am I,'" wailed Hippy, hopelessly out of tune.

"Now, see what you've done," commented David Nesbit disgustedly.

"I'm truly sorry," apologized Nora. "Hippy, if you will stop singing, I'll forgive you and allow you to sit beside me." She patted the davenport invitingly.

"I thought you would," grinned Hippy, seating himself triumphantly beside her. "I always gain my point by singing that song. It appeals to people. It is so pathetic. They would give worlds to--"

"Have you stop it," supplemented Tom Gray.

"Yes," declared Hippy. "No, I don't mean 'yes' at all. Tom Gray is an unfeeling monster. I refuse to say another word. I have subsided. Now, may I have some more tea?"

Anne filled the stout young man's cup and handed it to him with a smile.

"What are you going to be when you grow up, Hippy?" she asked mischievously.

"A brakeman," replied Hippy promptly. "I always did like to ride on trains. That's why I am spending four years in college."

"Don't waste your breath on him, Anne," advised Nora. "He won't tell any one what he intends to do. I've asked him a hundred times. He knows, too. He really isn't as foolish as he looks."

"I'm going to try for a position in the Department of Forestry at Washington after I get through college," announced Tom Gray.

"I'm going into business with my father," declared Reddy.

"I don't know yet what my work will be," said David Nesbit reflectively.

"All you children will be famous one of these days," predicted Mrs. Gray sagely. She had been listening delightedly to the merry voices of the young people. To her, as well as to his young friends, Hippy was a never-failing source of amus.e.m.e.nt.

"To choose a profession is easier for boys than for girls," declared Grace. "I haven't the slightest idea what I shall do after my college days are over. Most boys enter college with their minds made up as to what their future work is going to be, but very few girls decide until the last minute."

"Girls whose parents can afford to send them to college don't have to decide, as a rule," said Nora wisely, "but almost every young man thinks about it from the first, no matter how much money his father is worth."

"That is true, my dear," nodded Mrs. Gray.

"Yet I am sure my girls as well as my boys will astonish the world some day. In fact, Anne has already proved her mettle. Nora hopes to become a great singer, Jessica a pianiste and Grace and Miriam--"

"Are still floundering helplessly, trying to discover their respective vocations," supplemented Grace.

"Yes, Mrs. Gray," smiled Miriam, "our future careers are shrouded in mystery."

"Time enough yet," said Mrs. Gray cheerily. "Going to college doesn't necessitate adopting a profession, you know. Perhaps when your college days are over you will find your vocation very near home."

"Perhaps," a.s.sented Grace doubtfully, "only I'd like to 'do n.o.ble deeds, not dream them all day long,'" she quoted laughingly.

"'And so make life, death and the vast forever One grand sweet song,'"

finished Anne softly.

"That is what I shall do when I am a brakeman," declared Hippy confidently.

"You mean you will make life miserable for every one who comes within a mile of you," jeered Reddy Brooks.

"Reddy, how can you thus ruthlessly belittle my tenderest hope, my fondest ambitions? What do you know about my future career as a brakeman? I intend to be touchingly faithful to my duty, kind and considerate to the public. In time the world will hear of me and I shall be honored and revered."

"Which you never would be at home," put in David sarcastically.

"What great man is ever appreciated in his own country?" questioned Hippy gently.

Even Reddy was obliged to smile at this retort.

"Let the future take care of itself," said Tom Gray lazily. "The night is yet young. Let us do stunts. Grace and Miriam must do their Spanish dance for us. Then it will be Nora's and Jessica's turn. Hippy can sing, nothing sentimental, though. David, Reddy, Hippy and I will then enact for you a stirring drama of metropolitan life ent.i.tled 'Oakdale's Great Mystery,' with the eminent actor, Theophilus Hippopotamus Wingate as the 'Mystery.' Let the show begin. We will have the Spanish dance first."

"Come on, Miriam," laughed Grace. "We had better be obliging. Then we shall be admitted to the rest of the performance."

The impromptu "show" that followed was a repet.i.tion of the "stunts" for which the various members of the little circle were famous and which were always performed for Mrs. Gray's pleasure. "Oakdale's Great Mystery," of which Hippy calmly admitted the authorship, proved to be a ridiculous travesty on a melodrama which the boys had seen the previous winter. Hippy as the much-vaunted Mystery, with a handkerchief mask, a sweeping red portiere cloak, and an ultra-mysterious shuffle was received with shrieks of laughter by the audience. The dramatic manner in which, after a series of humorous complications, the Mystery was run to earth and unmasked by "Deadlock Jones, the King of Detectives," was portrayed by David with "startling realism" and elicited loud applause.

"That is the funniest farce you boys have ever given," laughed Mrs.

Gray, as Hippy removed his mask with a loud sigh of relief and wiped his perspiring forehead with it. "You will be a playwright some day, Hippy."

"I'd rather be a brakeman," persisted Hippy with his Cheshire cat grin.

It was half-past ten o'clock when the last good night had been said and the young people were on their way home. As the Nesbit residence was so near Mrs. Gray's home, Miriam was escorted to her door by a merry body guard. At Putnam Square the little company halted for a moment before separating, Nora, Jessica, Hippy and Reddy going in one direction, Grace, Anne, Tom and David in the other.

"Are you coming down to the train to-morrow morning to see us off?"

asked David Nesbit, his question including the four girls.

"Of course," replied Grace. "Don't we always see you off on the train whenever you go back to school before we do?"

"Then we'll reserve our sad farewells until the morn," beamed Hippy.

"Sad farewells!" exclaimed Nora scornfully. "I never yet saw you look sad over saying good-bye to us. You always smile at the last minute as though you were going to a picnic."

"'Tis only to hide my sorrow, my child," returned Hippy lugubriously.

"Would'st have the whole town look upon my tears and jeer, 'cry baby'?"

"That's a very good excuse," sniffed Nora.

"Not an excuse," corrected Hippy, "but a cloak to hide my real feelings."

"That will do, Hippopotamus," cut in David decisively. "We don't wish to hear the whys and wherefores of your feelings. If we stayed to listen to them we would be here on this very spot when our train leaves to-morrow morning."

"Wait until we come back for Easter, Hippy, then if you begin the first day you're home you'll finish before we go back to college," suggested Grace.

"That's a good idea," declared Hippy joyfully. "I shall remember it, and look forward to the Easter vacation."