Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 116, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 May 1911 — Rosamond’s Freshman [ARTICLE]

Rosamond’s Freshman

By JANE OSBORN

(Copyright, HU, by Associated Literary Press.)

"Isn’t that a perfect Turkish corner, now?*’ exclaimed Rosamond Goodwin, looking with pride and amusement at the work she had completed. “An 1840 horsehair sofa, covered with an imitation Bagdad rug, a Japanese lantern, an Indian arrow, and a French saber. Did you ever hear of such a combination, in your life, Miriam?” “Why, it doesn’t look badly at aU, and it certainly livens up the room," replied the sister, who was arranging a row of worn books in a small bookcase. “Besides, he will never know the difference —boys never do. And, Rosamond, don’t you think it will be nice to have these old books of ours in here —“Arabian Nights" and “Gulliver’s Travels” and “Pilgrim’s Progress” and those? I’ll just put them here as if we had accidentally left them, and it will make it seem like home to him.” “Oh, Miriam, what a funny idea!” exclaimed Rosamond, as she threw her arms about her sister’s neck. “Isn’t It just the jolliest thing that ever happened? And I know he’s going to be such a nice boy. I can just imagine how he is going to like your gingerbread and coffee cake, and custard pie. Boys always like sweet things.” “Yes,” went on her sister with the excitement of anticipation, “and sometimes we will leave things for him to eat in his sitting room here, so that when he comes in late at night he won’t have to go to bed hungry. I suppose he will be going to lots of the college things at night I have had an extra night key made for him, you know.” v Rosamond had sunk to the floor at her sister’s side and the two sat laughfhg together. ' “Of course,” said the elder, suddenly grave, ‘we mustn’t let him know that he isn’t working his way. He can sweep the walks and mow the lawn and tend to the Are and the ashes—” “Yes,” agreed Rosamond, slowly, “hut if he ever forgets, and of course he will, we mustn’t say anything about it. Of course, he will "have to study hard and take in all the college sports. I know he will be Interested in everything/’ This was the afternoon of Freshman Qook’e arrival, and the last finishing touches of the preparation, that had been going, on for months, for their expected guest, were in process. Rosamond, nearly thirty, and MlrJam somewhat older, had decided the previous spring that they would like to help a poor student. They lived in a college town where their father had, before his death, been a professor, and in the college were focussed their interests. ‘Even Rosamond had long since given up college games and dances, hut student life was still an ever vital source of interest to the two women. They had little money, but they had a large house where they might easily accommodate an person. They had asked the kind-hearted president of the college about it and he had seemed pleased with the idea. “There are always young men,” he told them, “who are waiting for such assistance. If you will put it on the basis of self-support I think I can get you a freshman worthy of your kindness. Let him do all the work about the house, attend to the fornaoe, shovel the snow, run errands, and anything that a boy or man could do. This will not repay you in full for your expense and pains, but it will put the matter on a more acceptable basis. There are always desirable boys waiting for a chance to work for their education, but few like to acoept it %s charity.” Later*a note came from the president telling of a Daniel Cook, an applicant for the freshman class, who was greatly in need of assistance. His college course would be impossible but for this timely assistance. On this brief note , and a knowledge of Stanton coflege freshmen in general, Miriam and Ropamond Goodwin made preparations for their guest. Now everything was in readiness. The •upper table had - been set with the extra place, and the silver candlesticks, fitted with fresh pink candles, stood waiting to be lighted. Her work done, Rosamond sat on the old, vine-covered veranda, trying to fix her mind on the book open before her, but in reality planning a dozen plans for Daniel Cook, whom she had already come to regard with fond indulgence. A man carrying a' suitcase was walking up the driveway—a stoopshouldered man of thirty or more. “A book agent,” muttered Rosamond, impatiently. As she stood before her she caught the look of eagerness and expectation. In a flash she realised that it was Daniel Cook.* At first Rosamond covered her disappointment and Mr. Cook concealed a smile as he saw the carefully furnished rooms that had been set aside for him. He explained simply and impersonally how his education had been cut short in his boyhood, and hew after his thirtieth birthday he was ready to begin his college work—to fit himself for the future he knew lay brilliant before him. He had at times almost despaired, he told them, of going on with his plans, until the president told him of the present chance of earning his hoard. 7

At the end of the second day, Mr. Cook met Rosamond on the veranda* There was a look of disappointment an her face that did not escape him. In the man before her there’ was nothing of the youthfnlness, or spirit, of the poor student for whpm she and her sister had planned and saved all through the summer. “I would like to speak to you a moment,” he began rather nervously. “I think I came here under complete misunderstanding. ' I thought there would be enough work to do to pay for the privileges I received. I hardly understand what the arrangement is to be.” -Ifr 'v'-J. “You can mow the lawn,” suggested Rosamond, helplessly, almost tearfuliy. Mr. Cook laughed. “See here. Miss Goodwin," he said, “you know you don’t, want me to stay. You weren’t planning for an old bookworm like me. I knew that the moment I saw you. I’ll get along somehow.” “But how can you?” asked Rosamond. “Yoq can’t afford to live at the dormitory, can you? Do you want to go?” For a minute Mr. Cook studied the ground in meditation. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he explained. “I can’t accept your kindness unpaid, and I really can’t make good now. If you and your sister will let me stay, and do all I can for you, I’ll beg to be your debtor till I get enough money : to pay back. If you agree, you’ll be helping one of the most grateful men living. Meantime, let me do all I. can.” After a consultation between the two disappointed sisters it was settled as Mr. Cook desired. The fault lay with the president of the college, and, of course, no one thought of blaming him. By mid year Daniel Cook had successfully passed examinations in two years’ work. He had been over the work before by himself and all he needed now was a chance to prove that he was fitted for his degree. Toward June Daniel Cook knew that his degree was won. that within afew weeks he would have gained what he had whited, and struggled, so long to get. A second unexpected honor came to him. A position as assistant instructor in the college was opened to him, so that he might continue hi* post-graduate studies the next year and at the same time earn a fair salary. Before Daniel Cook accepted this honor he came to Rosamdnd and laid it all before her. She was sitting on the old vinecovered veranda where she had first seen his disappointing figure eight months before. “I*ll accept on one condition,” he said, and as he looked into her face he saw the color mount high into her cheeks. "I already owe you everything, my degree, my happiness, my future—but I am not satisfied. Rosamond. I want to Owe you more. I want you. I want you to love me and to let me spend my whole life proving my gratitude and devotion.” Rosamond clasped for the first time the hand stretched out to her in both of hers. “You know," she said, “I am too happy to tell you.”