“The secret had been too good to be kept; and North, notwithstanding the danger to which he thereby subjected himself of a hearty thumping from John, told the whole matter (confidentially of course) to a few dozens of his intimate friends, and so the whole matter came to light. I must confess I was horribly afraid when I found it had got wind; but John never betrayed any ill feeling toward us. Upon Condy, however, he vowed vengeance most dire. On the matter becoming public, John was driven almost mad; for he was roasted without mercy wherever he went. Fancy also came to the aid of reality; and he imagined that there was an allusion to his defeat as often as cats, or ropes, or water, or Irish school-masters were mentioned. He even ran out of the church when the parson, one Sunday, read the story of the Egyptians in the Red Sea.
“If poor John was now down, Condy was in proportion elated. His school nourished to the utmost extent of his wishes; his finances were, of course, considerably increased; his popularity, with both male and female, was unbounded; and his vanity and good humor were augmented tenfold. The grin was never absent from his mouth, and he laughed and chuckled over his cat exploit as if he had conquered a kingdom. John studiously avoided him; and whenever accident brought them into each other’s company, Condy swelled and looked as big as if he could have eaten him up at a single sitting.”
ON THE HUDSON.
BY ELIZABETH MARY ALLISON.
River that rollest thy bright course along
In virgin beauty, yet unwooed by song,
Unknown to glory; save to that which springs
Like to a blushing maiden, from the fame
Of her own loveliness. Shall thy name