CHAPTER I.
TWO SCHOOL-FELLOWS.
Dr. Burton’s boarding-school was in a ferment of hope and expectation. To-morrow was the end of the term, and vacation, so dear to the heart of every school-boy, was close at hand.
The school was not a large one. There were twenty-four boarding pupils, and an equal number of day-scholars from the village of Westville, in which the school had been established twenty years before. It was favorably situated, being only forty miles from New York. Half the boarding-scholars were from the city, and half from more distant places. Generally two or three pupils were sent to college each year, and, as the principal was a thorough scholar, maintained a creditable, often a high rank.
The school-session was over, and the boys separated into little knots. The day-scholars mostly went home, carrying their books under their arms.
Among the little knots we must direct particular attention to two boys, one a boarding-scholar, the other a day-scholar. The first was Gilbert Greyson, a handsome, spirited boy of sixteen; the other, John Munford, of about the same age, and much more plainly dressed. John was the son of a carpenter, of limited means, and had already begun to learn his father’s business. But the father was sensible of the advantages of education, and had permitted his son to spend six months of each year at school, on condition that he would work the balance of the time. This arrangement seemed fair to John, and he took care, whether he studied or worked, to do both in earnest.
“How do you feel about vacation, John?” asked Gilbert.
“I was in no hurry to have it come, Gilbert. It is likely to be a very long vacation to me.”
“How so?”
“I have got through my school-life.”
“What! Are you not coming back next term?” asked Gilbert, with evident disappointment, for John was his most intimate friend.