New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Short stories, American
He who gave it to me was not a school fellow, a companion of my boyhood,
but he was the friend of my youth and a classmate in college. It was in
our Junior year that he joined us, bringing a good report from the
fresh-water college where he had been for two years. I can recall his
shy attitude the first morning in chapel when we were wondering what
sort of a fellow the tall, dark, handsome new-comer might be. The
accidents of the alphabet put us side by side in certain class-rooms,
and I soon learned to know him, and to like him more and more with
increasing knowledge. He was courteous, gentle, kindly, ever ready to do
a favor, ever grateful for help given him, and if he had a fault it was
this, that he was jealous of his friends. Although his nature was
healthy and manly, he had a feminine craving for affection, and an
almost womanly unreason in the exactions he made on his friends. Yet he
was ever ready to spend himself for others, and to do to all as he would
be done by.
Although fond of out-door sports, his health was not robust. He lacked
stamina. There was more than a hint of consumption in the brightness of
his eye, in the spot of color on his cheek, in the hollowness of his
chest, and in the cough which sometimes seized him in the middle of a
recitation. Toward the end of our senior year he broke down once, and
was kept from college a week; but the spring came early, and with the
returning warmth of the sunshine he made an effort and took his place
with us again. He was a good scholar, but not one of the best in the
class. He did his work faithfully in the main, having no relish for
science, but enjoying the flavor of the classics. He studied German that
year, and he used to come to me reciting Heine's poems with enthusiasm,
carried away by their sentiment, but shocked by the witty cynicism which
served as its corrective. He wrote a little verse now and then, as young
men do, immature, of course, and individual only in so far as it was
morbid. I think that he would have liked to devote himself to literature
as a career, but it had been decided that he was to study law.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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