Crowded Out o' Crofield; or, The Boy who made his WayStoddard, William O.
General
Crowded Out o' Crofield; or, The Boy who made his Way
Stoddard, William O.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"This will be a trying day for Mary," said Aunt Melinda, thoughtfully.
"The Academy will open at nine o'clock. Just think of what that child
has to go through! There'll be a crowd there, too,--oh, dear me!"
Mary Ogden sat upon the stage, by previous orders from the Academy
principals, awaiting the opening exercises; but the principals
themselves had not yet arrived. She looked rather pale, and she was
intently watching the nickel-plated gong on the table and the hands of
the clock which hung upon the opposite wall.
"Perhaps the principals are here," Mary thought as the clock hands
crept along. "But they said to strike the bell at nine, precisely, and
if they're not here I must do it!"
At the second of time, up stood Mary and the gong sounded sharply.
That was for "Silence!" and it was very silent, all over the hall, and
all the scholars looked at Mary and waited.
"Clang," went the gong again, and every boy and girl arose, as if they
had been trained to it.
Poor Mary was thinking, "I hope nobody sees how scared I am!" but the
Academy term was well opened, and Dr. Dillingham was speaking, when the
Reverend Lysander Pettigrew and Mrs. Henderson, the tardy principals,
came hurrying in to explain that an accident had delayed them.
CHAPTER XIX.
COMPLETE SUCCESS.
Two years passed. There was a great change in the outward aspect of
Crofield. The new bridge over the Cocahutchie was of iron, resting on
stone piers, and the village street crossed it. The railroad bridge
was just below, but was covered in with a shed, so that the trains
might not frighten horses. The mill was still in its place, but the
dam was two feet higher and the pond was wider. Between the mill and
the bridge was a large building of brick and stone that looked like a
factory. Between the street and the railway, the space was filled by
the station-house and freight depot, which extended to Main Street; and
there were more railway buildings on the other side of the Cocahutchie.
Just below the railroad and along the bank of the creek, the ground was
covered by wooden buildings, and there was a strong smell of leather
and tan-bark. Of course, the old Washington Hotel was gone; but across
the street, on the corner to the left, there was a great brick
building, four stories high, with "Washington Hotel" painted across the
front of it. The stores in that building were just finished. Looking
up Main Street, or looking down, it did not seem the same village. The
new church in the middle of the green was built of stone; and both of
the other churches were rapidly being demolished, as if new ones also
were to take their places.
It was plain, at a glance, that if this improvement was general, the
village must be extending its bounds rapidly, for there never had been
too much room in it, for even the old buildings with which Jack had
been familiar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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