Mary. He could not get in on that then. Do make haste, dear mother, and tell us if he did get in, and how he contrived to.
Mrs. M. I will, my child, as soon as I can. He again went up stairs to the scuttle door, which was on the top of the house; out of this he got, slid down the slanting roof to the edge of the house, just where the old spout came up to it; he then seized hold of this spout, swung himself upon it, and slid down as far as the window of the room, where his classmates were, then in he sprang among them, to their great surprise, as you may well suppose. The instant he let go the decayed thing on which he had descended, it broke to pieces and fell to the ground. His companions heard the crash, rushed to the window, and while they were uttering exclamations of astonishment at the risk he had run, and congratulating him on his narrow escape, he very coolly replied, "it has stayed up just long enough to serve my purpose," he then directly entered upon the business which had brought them together.
William. What a brave fellow he was. How glad I am it did not break while he was on it!
Mary. I hardly breathed for fear it would. I hope he succeeded in preventing those young men from doing what they had intended.
Mrs. M. I hope so too, and I think it probable he did. After such a proof of his determination and perseverance, they must have felt it was useless to oppose him.
A gentleman who saw him at the moment he was coming from the top of the house, on the spout, related the fact, in the college yard, fifty years afterwards, pointing, at the same time, to the very spot on which he saw him. It had made so deep an impression on him, that, even at that distance of time, he could not speak of it without emotion.
William. Oh how I wish I could see the place. Do you think, mamma, any body could show it to me now?
Mrs. M. I do not know, my dear, if any one is now living who knows exactly the place. I mean to inquire when I have an opportunity, for I should like to see it myself.
Mary. So do mamma.