Then she told us to come home and we went home as fast as we cood all bawling. when we got home mother was sitting up alone and aunt Sarah started to tell her and Keene and Cele and Georgie all bawled and you never heard such a noise, and father was in bed with a headake and hollered out what in time is the matter. and she told him and i heard him jump out of bed and in a minit he came out buttoning up his suspenders. Mother said where in the world are you going George, and he said things is come to a pretty pass if a boy cant go and hear his father make a speach without being banged round by a policeman. i am going down to knock the heads off every policeman there. and he reeched for his vest. mother said George, dont you go near the hall, and father said he cood lick anny 2 men on the police force easy and he would show them how to slam people round and he reeched for his coat, and Keene and Cele and Georgia began to bawl again to think he wood get hurt and aunt Sarah and mother said you had better not go George, and father said he wood give them more fun in 5 minits than they had seen in a political rally in 5 years and he reeched for his boots and mother said what will they think of you after you have sent word that you are too sick to make a speach, to see you come rushing into the hall and go punching the policemen and father had got on 1 boot and when she said that he began to look kinder sick and said, thunder that is so. and then his headake got wirse and he gave me a twenty five cent scrip and Keene and Cele and Georgie ten cents each and he went to bed and so did we.
i wonder if his head aked really so he coodent make a speach or if he was scart. i bet he was scart.
school commences monday. father hasent asked once about my diry, so i aint going to wright enny more.
THIRTY YEARS (OR MORE) AFTER
On looking back over the pages of the "Diary" it appears to me that some sort of an amende honorable is due to those citizens now living, and the relatives and friends of those now dead, whose names have appeared in the "Diary" and who have, so to speak, been handled without gloves. That I have been neither mobbed, nor horsewhipped, nor sued, nor prosecuted, but that I have enjoyed many a good laugh with—and have received many pleasant words from—the victims, and their friends, is good evidence that they, and their more fortunate brothers who have not been therein mentioned, have taken the "Diary" in the very spirit in which it was published, that of affectionate and amusing retrospect. And it is indeed with affection that I recall those men, at that time in their prime. That I could not then understand the reason why they did not fully enter into and appreciate the spirit that prompted me and my boon companions to transgress so many rules, laws, and statutes is not surprising. Boys seldom can understand it. But, although I now fully appreciate it, I often wonder at the spirit that prompted so many of those men in after years to show me so many kindnesses, so much encouragement, and such great forbearance.
So many inquiries have been made of me about that cornet, the soul-filling ambition of my early years, that I feel that the uncertainty in regard to that delightful instrument ought to be cleared up. I never did save up enough money to buy a cornet. I haven't to this day. But many years afterwards, when my ambition had been turned into other and equally profitless channels, upon the death of a dear friend his beautiful cornet was sent me. I have it now, as the neighbors and the members of my family can testify fully and with deep feeling, if called upon.
H. A. S. [ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
A good many years ago, during my college days, it was my custom and that of my room-mate, Brown of Exeter, to make our room the gathering-place for Exeter boys, both "stewdcats" and homesick Exeter youths then filling positions in Boston. It happened that frequently undergraduates from other towns and cities came in at these Saturday evening gatherings and it was a matter of wonder to them that we had so much to talk about in relation to our native town; and it was their frequent remark that "either Exeter is a remarkable place, or you are a remarkably loyal set of fellows."