“Is your mother living?” she asked.
“No,” I answered, “she died two years ago.”
“Oh, you poor boy,” she said; and she looked at me very sorrowfully.
Mary had come into the kitchen by this time but I thought she seemed somewhat bored. Pretty soon the old man and the boy came back and we all went out on the porch and had a real folksy talk. The boy was very much interested in the college and asked me a great many questions about it. He said he thought of going to college if it didn’t cost too much. I told him it would be all right to go to college but I hoped after he got out he would come back and help his father farm. He said he didn’t know about that and grinned at the old man; but the old man seemed very quiet; he just sat and listened; sometimes I thought he seemed a little sad. He appeared to be very fond of Fanny; he often looked at her, and when he did a pleasant look came over his face.
The old lady asked me to come again, real cordially, and then we all shook hands and I started off.
It was beginning to get dark when I reached the car. I was just ready to turn the crank when I heard some one say: “Get up Billy.” I looked up and found a pretty girl in a falling top was trying to make her horse pass the machine. He was frightened and wouldn’t go and the girl seemed to be frightened too.
It was the law in those days that when a person driving a horse met an auto and held up a hand, the auto driver must drive to the side of the road, stop his car and lead the horse past the machine. So I went to the horse’s head and led him past the machine. When we had gone a short distance up the road I asked the girl whether she could drive him now? She said she was afraid of him, he might run away. She didn’t like to drive anyhow but there was no one to drive her that afternoon so she had hitched up the horse herself. I told her I would drive her home if it was not too far. She said her house was only half a mile up the road, so I got in and took the reins. The horse was old and stiff, but as his nose was pointed toward home and oats he made steady progress and we soon arrived. I had introduced myself to the lady who informed me that her name was Horner, that she taught school in the neighborhood and boarded at the farm house to which we were going. I remarked that Horner was a rural name and smelled of the dairy at which she managed to crack a smile. We had come by a side road at the last, down into a valley, over a bridge and up the other side to the farm house.
The farmer came out and held the horse while I helped the lady out. By this time the mother and her two daughters, Sarah and Jane Oldit, had come out and been introduced. We sat on the porch for awhile and then I started for home once more murmuring: Hilltop, Hillpot, Horner, Oldit!
II
Rochambeau College was denominational and of the blue Presbyterian order, under the care of the Synod. This connection was, however, almost purely theoretical and we were very much left alone to our own devices so long as no attempt was made by the President or members of the Faculty to blow loud heretical trumpets. Most of the members of the Board of Trustees were good fellows, mildly interested in the church and very much interested in educating young men. This real interest was manifested in an unmistakeable manner by their steady contributions to the College finances which at this time were not in too flourishing a condition. Not a few of the Trustees were depriving themselves of luxuries and even necessities in order that the Faculty might have decent living conditions. Not all the members of the Faculty appreciated this, but I did. Most of the members of our Board were earnest men worthy of respect and I, for one, did thoroughly respect them. The President, Dr. Camden, was a genial old chap, prone to discover all sorts of excellencies in the members of his Faculty and active in proclaiming them to the Board and to the world. He used the same methods with the students and was able to rule without despotism.