The feud waxed fierce and bitter; and henceforth Middleport and Centreport, which had always been twin sisters, were savage foes. The major built a lofty edifice and called it the Toppleton Institute. The colonel, not to be thwarted or outdone, built another on a grander scale, and called it the Wimpleton Institute. Everything that could add to the efficiency and the popularity of the two institutions was liberally supplied; and, as competition is the life of trade, as well in literary as in commercial affairs, both thrived splendidly. All the principal cities and towns of the Union were represented among the students. The patron millionnaire of each, with his principal and teachers, labored and studied to devise some new schemes which would add to the popularity of his institution. Military drill, gymnastics, games, boating, English, French, and German systems were introduced, and dispensed with as fresher novelties were presented.
The rival academies numbered about a hundred students each, and neither seemed to obtain any permanent advantage over the other. “Like master like man;” and, as the major and the colonel quarrelled, the pupils could hardly help following their illustrious example; so that it was fortunate a mile of deep water lay between the two.
The rivalry of the millionnaires was not confined to the schools; it extended to the towns themselves. Colonel Wimpleton built a flour mill on the Centreport side, and fought boldly and cunningly for the commercial salvation of his side of the lake. If a bank, an insurance company, or a sawmill was established in Middleport, another immediately appeared in Centreport; and the converse of the proposition was equally true.
In the midst of this rivalry the Toppleton Institute was vivified by a new idea. The mania for building railroads which pervaded the Northern States invaded the quiet haunts of learning. Many of the students were the sons of prominent railroad men, and Major Toppleton hit upon the magnificent scheme of giving the young gentlemen a railroad education. A company had been organized; certificates of stocks and bonds—of which the munificent patron of the institution was the largest holder—were issued. A president, directors, treasurer, and clerk were elected; superintendents, track-masters, baggage-masters, conductors, brakemen, engineers, firemen, switch-tenders, and other officials were duly appointed. At first the railroad was to be an imaginary concern; but the wealthy patron was not content to have the business done on paper only. He purchased sleepers and rails, and the students had actually built five miles of road on the level border of the lake. The dummy engine had been bought, and had been sent by railroad to the head of the lake, and thence to Middleport by a canal boat.
This splendid project of the Toppletonians was viewed with consternation by the Wimpletonians. I was warmly interested in the scheme, and watched its progress with the deepest interest. The dummy was a miracle to me, and I regarded it with the most intense delight. All the Toppletonians, assisted by a few men, were on the shore, busy as bees in transferring the machine to the wharf. Planks had been laid down on which to roll it from the boat, and rigging manned by the students was attached to it, by which it was to be hauled on shore.
The steamer was to make a landing alongside the canal boat. I stood at the bow watching the operation of moving the dummy. They had rolled it two or three feet up the skids; but “too many cooks spoil the broth.” A rope broke, the machine slipped back, and, canting the boat by its impetus, the thing rolled off, with a tremendous splash, into the lake. The steamer backed just in season to avoid smashing it into a hopeless wreck.
If Centreport had been there it would have rejoiced exceedingly at this mishap.
THE ACCIDENT TO THE DUMMY.—[Page 93].