“There, there; don’t bother your pretty head about it, Goldenrod; it is a problem you will never solve,” said her father, stroking her shining head with a caressing touch; “go and do your reading for mama, while I write my letter and get the matter off my mind.”
“But to whom will you write?” queried Mollie.
“I think I will address my letter to the principal of the academy; he will probably be able to tell me more about this young seeker after knowledge than any one else.”
And the gentleman proceeded to put his plan into immediate execution. He wrote a brief but comprehensive epistle, addressing it to the “Principal of the Academy, Cedar Hill,” telling him that he wished to show his appreciation of young Faxon’s heroic act in some practical way, and asking his advice regarding the best method of doing this.
He gave no name, as he said he preferred to remain incog, and not hamper the lad with any sense of obligation, but that any communication sent to a certain lock box in New York would reach him. He stated that an immediate reply was desired, as he was on the eve of going abroad.
Professor Harding’s face glowed with genuine pleasure when he received the letter the next morning, for now he saw that it would perhaps be practicable for his protégê to enter college. He replied immediately, giving a brief history of Clifford Faxon’s life and circumstances, speaking of him in the highest terms, and claiming that any assistance rendered him in his efforts bestowed, and in behalf of the boy, in whom he was deeply interested, he thanked his unknown correspondent most heartily for his kind intentions.
A day or two later there came to Clifford a cashier’s check for a thousand dollars, made payable to himself, and with it a few sentences of hearty appreciation of his recent act, and also of encouragement for the future.
But the donor and writer was anonymous.