Burr Junior - Part 82
Library

Part 82

Lastly, I found that the servants were all outside too, waiting to say good-bye, and I couldn't go without stepping aside to shake hands with Cook, who uttered a loud sob, s.n.a.t.c.hed me to her, and gave me a sounding kiss.

Then I was back on the steps saying my farewells to the Doctor and his wife, and I felt that I had bade every one now good-bye but Tom Mercer, who was to leave the following day, but, to my intense disappointment, he was missing; and, time pressing, I was at last obliged to climb into the britzska, where my mother, my uncle, and the General were already seated, the word was given, the coachman touched his horses as soon as the groom had climbed to his side, and the boys nearly frightened them into a headlong gallop, as they burst out into a volley of cheers, mingled with, "Good-bye, Burr junior! Good luck to you, soldier!" and amidst the waving of caps from the lads, and handkerchiefs from the door, I stood up in the carriage and roared excitedly,--

"Where's old Senna?"

I faintly heard the words, "Don't know," and I stood looking about wildly, full of bitter disappointment at leaving without seeing him.

I was standing up at the back, where my mother had the other seat, the two old officers being before us, but there was no Tom Mercer, and I was about to sit down, feeling that the poor fellow could not face the farewell, when, at the turn of the road, there on the bank stood Polly Hopley, with a parcel in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other, and beside her, Bob Hopley in his brown velveteens, his gun under his left arm and his hat in his hand.

As we trotted by, the parcel and bouquet fell into the carriage, and I waved my hand back to them till we were out of sight, when I found that my mother was holding the flowers, which had her name on a label like that used with a doctor's bottle, while the parcel was directed to me.

I couldn't help my face working as I looked from one to the other.

"Cheer up, my lad," cried the General, as my mother pressed my hand, for I had sunk down beside her on the seat.

"Of course he will," cried my uncle; "soldiers cheer up directly. I say, Frank, the Doctor gave you a splendid character, but it wasn't wanted. Your popularity staggers me."

"But I haven't seen poor old Senna," I cried.

"Seen whom?" said my uncle, laughing.

"Poor old Tom Mercer," I cried, when a hand from the back knocked my cap over my eyes, and a familiar voice shouted,--

"'Bye, Frankie. Hooray! 'ray! 'ray! 'ray!"

There was Tom Mercer's face looking at us over the hood at the back, for he had darted out from the hedge as the carriage pa.s.sed the corner half a mile from the school, climbed up behind, and was holding on with one hand as he clutched at me with the other.

Then quickly--nay, more quickly than it has taken me to tell it--he let go and dropped down into the road, where I could see him standing waving his cap till a curve hid him from sight; and I once more sank into my place too low-spirited to think, for my happy school-days were at an end, and there before me in the dim distance, toward which I was being hurried fast as two good mares could trot, was the great gateway of a fresh life, through which lay the road to be followed in my progress to become a soldier and a man.

THE END.