For my part I was quite interested in watching the people. Just as the car came there was a new throng, and we found it necessary to separate our seats. Indeed uncle, with many other gentlemen, was forced to stand the whole way. Just in front of me was a group of Harvard students, and the moment of starting added to their numbers some who were evidently under the influence of liquor. One of them was a very young fellow, neatly dressed and with a sweet expression of countenance, but, mother dear, he was really intoxicated. He staggered into the door, and leaning against the post actually snored. Many of the persons present laughed, but the sight was very sad to me, and a nice young man, tall and straight as Cousin Benjamin, who was close beside me, said, no doubt observing my distress: “This troubles you.” I answered: “Indeed it does; think of the boy’s parents!” He assented, and remarked that the lad was evidently a “Freshman”—that is, a newcomer at college—for that is what they are called in their first year.
“And what will become of him when he gets out of the car?” I asked, for I could plainly see that the poor boy was too much befogged to find his way home alone.
“If he has no friend with him, a policeman may get hold of him.”
“How terrible,” I said, with some warmth perhaps.
“I suppose,” continued the young man after quite a pause, “that I could take him to his room if he has any way to indicate where that is, or to mine until morning, if that will relieve your mind.”
I supposed I brightened up a good deal at this, and I urged it upon him, but he did not positively promise, for he quite shocked me by bending close to me and saying almost in a whisper:
“If I do, it will be done for your sake, remember, and one good turn deserves another, so tell me where you go to church.” I was so much surprised that for a moment I could not answer; then he repeated his request, but the car stopped with a jerk that it usually has, and my uncle and aunt signified that we were to get out.
The carriage was waiting, but we had scarcely made ourselves comfortable, when my aunt exclaimed:
“Sallie, I do believe you were talking to those strange men in the car. What will you do next to astonish me?”
I saw my uncle closely regarding me, and with a more severe expression than I had ever seen him wear, but I could not believe I had done wrong to take a humane interest in the tipsy boy. So I told them all about it—except that I did not repeat the foolish speech of the tall young man; it was not worth remembering.