THE STUDENTS JOURNAL.
7
A COLLEGE TALE.
DURING my attendance at a western university, it was my good fortune to become well acquainted with Professor B. The Professor was a man whose great learning and exceptional ability as an instructor gained for him the highest respect of all; and he could claim, in addition, what I consider fully as great an honor to him, viz: the confidence and sincere affection of every student with whom he had more than the most casual acquaintance. For Professor B., though a strict and dignified instructor in the class room, could on occasion unbend, and happy were the young men who were his companions on a walk of a pleasant afternoon, or were invited to spend an evening by his fireside. Many anecdotes of life at the university were told on such occasions by our good-natured host.
Of these tales now it is my purpose to relate only one, hoping it may have for my readers at least a small part of the interest that it had for my fellow students and myself when, late in the evening sitting in the flickering firelight, with eyes and ears wholly intent on the speaker, we first listened to the tale which is here related as it fell from the Professor's lips.
"A number of years since, the office of clerk of this university was held by a gentleman whose ability, energy and integrity were undoubted. I mention this particularly in order that you may give careful attention to what I shall now relate, for the tale is so strange a one that did it not come from so good an authority, I fear your incredulity would at once prejudice you against it.
"It was summer,—but all through the hot, sultry day my friend, the clerk, might have been seen working away, hour after hour, hastily turning the leaves of the big books be fore him. After consulting the books he set down the results of his search on long, narrow slips of paper, which as the day wore on came to form a huge pile on the table before him.
From the frown on his face it was plain that the clerk found his task by no means an agreeable one, and as is common to men of his energetic temperament, he was evidently making all possible haste to be done with it. And so, finding at supper-time his work still far from completion, he resolved to return to the work in the evening, although he was already much fatigued by the diligent efforts he had put forth, as well as by the oppressive summer heat.
"On returning to the office, my friend took a large easy chair in place of his uncomfortable high stool, and fell to work deciding to work without a lamp as long as possible, since its heat would greatly increase his discomfort. Thus he had labored steadily for about two hours when the deepening shadows intensified by gathering clouds which were rapidly shutting off the last belated rays hurrying toward the earth, warned him that he too must hurry if he would finish his work before the darkness of night set in. More quickly row the shadows darkened, rendering indistinct and almost totally obscure the objects in remote parts of the room; and the clerk strained nearer and nearer to the window from which came the last feeble rays of a day almost ended.
But a spirit of determination, of resolute vindictiveness, had now fully possessed my friend. Foolish as it may seem, the intense strain of his long continued work had wrought him up to such a degree that to his excited cry it seemed that the task he was engaged in had become personified, that in finishing the would, to this extent at least, be conring a demon that had long been battling with him. Why he looked on it so vindictiveshall be made known hereafter.
"And so, as he turned the leaves of the big books for the last time and added the last slip of paper to the huge pile, it was with a wild cry of triumph that he shouted, 'It's finished! It's finished!' But only for a moment did he think of this, for now a sense of nervousness which deepened into fear stole over him and he began to feel how still and dark and lonely the room was. He sat spell-bound, shuddering, as in his excitement, his ears deceived him into the belief that the creaking of the huge building, and the various noises about him were fraught with danger to himself. But his eyes and ears had no longer to conjure up idle fancies to terrify my poor friend for was not there right before him the very demon with whom he had struggled so long in vain! Ademone whose fiery red hair and strong determined face was, as the clerk afterward said, the very incarnation of the devilish thing he had contended against.
'But now its ghostly habiliments proclaimed to him its death, and, fear giving way to a wild feeling of rage and triumph, he tauntingly cried, 'I suppose you have come to say farewell. With all my heart, I wish you a speedy journey to a land that's hotter than even a Kansas summer. My work with you is done,' and he pointed triumphantly at the completed work on the table.
The poor clerk's triumph, however, lasted