of shouters settled down to work, evidently believing that the speed of a runner depended upon the lung powers of his supporters. The long runs followed, and were greeted with the same enthusiasm. Then came the field events, the weights, the jumps and the vaulting. These were long drawn out and less exciting in every way. The cheering subsided somewhat, but the games were still watched with intense interest. When the field events had been decided the Juniors were eight points in advance of the Seniors, but there still remained the relay race, which was to count ten points for the winners. As the first four men came to the starting point the cheering was as loud as in the beginning. The cheering Seniors put forth all their lung power to cheer Tom Carey, who was to run the first relay for his class. The pistol was fired and the men were off. For a while they ran together and then one forged a little to the front. It was Tom Carey. He was running with a long, swinging stride. The cheering of the Seniors was heard above the clamor of the other classes. The championship might be theirs if Tom could win a good lead in the first relay. But as he made the last turn their hearts fell. He must have started too fast, for he was evidently falling off in his speed. He was in the lead and they could see that he was straining every nerve, but the Junior runner was gaining foot by foot. So it was until the end, when they crossed the line together and were succeeded by others of their classes. As Tom crossed he collapsed, came down upon his right knee, and then sank upon the ground. True to his resolve, he had "run himself off his feet." The slight soreness in his knee had become intense under the strain of the race, and so his beautiful stride had failed him. In the meanwhile the race was continued, but it was the Juniors' race by twenty yards at the finish. The class championship was lost to the Seniors. A few days afterward Tom left the college, and went home to secure the best surgical treatment for his knee. The college physician was of the opinion that he was threatened with a disease known as "water on the knee." A metropolitan surgeon declared that the limb was in a serious condition, and prescribed complete rest for a couple of months. Tom was miserable when he saw that his class would graduate without him, but there was no help for it. For two months he spent the days in reading. Then he began to walk about with the aid of a cane. His knee healed more quickly than had been expected, and in May it seemed sound and strong. June brought Commencement, and Commencement brought Tom to college to see his classmates graduate. IV. He When the Commencement exercises were over Tom climbed to the Seniors' corridor. wanted to see his classmates again, and this was the last opportunity that would occur. When he reached the corridor he found himself in a babel of confusion. The Seniors were giving finishing touches to the packing of their trunks, shouting inquiries about expressmen and about the time-tables of trains, or standing in groups, talking and laughing in loud tones to give vent to their excitement and satisfaction. Tom took his way among them cheerfully, answering questions about his sickness and complimenting those who had distinguished themselves in studies. Soon he found himself exchanging greetings with Jim Devine, who had taken the highest honors of the class, and was receiving the congratulations of the corridor. As Tom spoke to him the others pressed around, slapped Jim upon the back and shook his hand with fervor. Everyone had a cheerful word for Tom, but when the word was said everyone rushed off again in excited fashion. Tom passed along until he met a friend who was standing at the door of one of the rooms. Here Tom stopped, and was engaged in conversation. In the meanwhile word had been passed among the Seniors that they were to meet at the end of the corridor, in the open space near the large staircase. Toward that point all hurried while Tom was talking to his friend. Their chat was interrupted in a moment by a voice calling from the end of the corridor, telling Tom's friend that he was wanted and must come at once. Tom bid him good-bye, shook his hand and wished him mending luck for all his future years. When his chum hurried away Tom was left alone. He looked down the long corridor and saw that his classmates were gathered in a group at the end, with the evident intention of singing a last song before they parted. In the centre of the group he could distinguish the face of Jim Devine. He turned and began to descend the other staircase, and as he did so he heard the Senior voices joined in a familiar college ditty: "All together, all together, once, once again, Now we raise the glad refrain. All together-” But he who had been willing to suffer for the good of the class was walking slowly down the shaded avenue, and was afterward sitting alone in the car that took him to the railroad station. T. J. R. CONTENTMENT. When fields are bleak and skies are dun, All life and gladness. When dark clouds float athwart the moon, When trees grow rigid with the rime So let us learn to bear our woe; The morn will always follow even, And, though our lot's to toil below, There's rest in Heaven. M. |