Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 November 1879 — MY CHUM’S REVOLVER. [ARTICLE]

MY CHUM’S REVOLVER.

BY C. A. S.

It was a Smith A Wesson six-shooter —a small affair only—ihat my chum brought to our room after dark one evening, with a hex of cartridges: He was angry. I had never seen such a sullen, ugly gleam in his eyes before. For Ned was naturally &s genial, goodhearted a fellow as fever breathed, though very high-spirited. It was our first term at college, and vie had been having a little "unpleasautnsss” with the Sophomores fora week or two. Tall hats and canes were the cause of it. 'Hie Sophs did mot approve of tall hats on the heads of Freshman, nor of canes in their uu-viph-lstieated hands. These Indonged, by royal rights, to the Sophomores; so, at least, they Claimed —and it yas not healtbltal uor safe fora Freshman to ignore theelaim. It had loug been the custom, when a Freshman appeared with a tall hat on, or was seen sporting a cane,to promptly confiscate the article apd sell it, and expend the pro«*ecd* in a “peanut drunk.” In otln-r words, if a Freshman “put on style” lie was ,‘haxed” —made to feel that he was a “sub.” Indeed, about the first Latin we learned that year was the full signification of sub, *We found that it meant under in every sense of the word, and applied to all Fresh mau. ' Now, as to tall liats. My chum and I had worn “Kerseys” during our last year at the academy. Being 19, and men grown, we were ol some little im[>orteiice in our own estimation, and hud the opinion that tall hats were becoming. In Neu’s rase, certainly, a tall hat added to his gissl looks, for lie was a handsome fellow, 5 feet, lU inches in lieigh L , We Knew —at leant we hail heard—what thw,Sophomores claimed, and we had talked the matter over before entering college. Long ago we had concluded that such “hazing” was mean, contemptible tyranny*. Still, I had deckled that, rather than have any trouble with the upper clansmen, l would allow my tall hat to remaiu unused during my Freshman year. Tl* * |shnt of “rights” at stake did not appear, to me to be worth fighting for. ‘ . ' . ! Ned, however, was more pugnacious and-high-spirited. The fact that his right to w ear what he pleased was disuuted angered him. 'He said tliat he did not wish to wear hLs tall hat every day, or in a way offensive to tire Sophomores. Ha had no w ish to provoke a quarrel Willi them, but tie declared that, if he Wanted to wear his Kersey tp church on Sundays, he should wear it a or if he were going for a day on a visitor for recreation he should wear it if he liked. Ned certainly had right on his side. Therefore I hardly knew how to change his purpose. Tnat he would have trouble 1 felt sure, and it had al vays seemed better to me to keep clear of that if possible. But when I gave this as a reason for him to accept the college custom he declared that I hadn’t inauly spirit. . ' In reply, he argued that it was not only cjwildly but wrong, to yield to injustice, or budge one inch fora bully. **A man,” he said, "should always stand for his rights.” which may be true or may not, according to circumstances. For the first week or two of the term up demonstration of any sort was made. We were getting acquainted with the studeuts, and had joined some of the “societies.” Duinig this time Ned had not worn his “Kersey.” One*morning, hoyvever, he received a leUer, stating thittone of his sisters, with another would pass through the town that day on the 2 o’clock train.. This train stopped ten minutes at the statiou. Ned, of course, weut .to the depot to meet them. The other Soung lady, I may add, was a particuiY friend of Ned’s Perhaps for that easoo he put on hisi“Kersey.” The* o -"tn* always more or less Shops about tl. -• depot at train time, and while Ned was talking to bis sister and her fr. nd in the Pullman Car, one of these y«> mgsters saw him. Word was at ouee passed that the r e was a Freshman under a tall hat.! 1 Three of the Sophs instantly boarded the car, aud, coming up the aisle behind Ned, one of them brought down his double fist with aU his- might upon Ned’s hat, driving it completely over his ears.

F<>r a moment Ned was fairly hoodwinked, and could scarcely get the hat oft. Then he turned on his assailants like a tiger. His sister screamed and caught hold of his arm; aud seeing not not only her terror but that of the other ladies, Ned abru ,tly checked himselH i* : “Ws will see you later,” one of the Sophs ->aid, with a grim bow, aud they went out. Ned came baek to our room with his battered hat, in a raging excitement, and I could not blame him. To have been insulted in that gross manner before ladies was a severe test for a man’s gtsxl temper. But he had met with a still worse affront. As lie came up the outer steps of the college ball, some of the Sophs threw a bucketful of dirtv water over him from a second story ■. window. The poor fellow rushed into the room cympletely drenched aud smeared. '* The water nearly ruined a good suit

of clothes, and as for his hat, that was utterly spoiled. Imagine, if you can, his anger. It was only by a great effort that he controlled himself as he changed bis c tot has . The#*, taking his “Horace,’' be attempted to go on with bis lessons. 1 do not think that he closed bis eyas that night. He was too much excitra to sleep. Rut those Sophs were not done with him yet. As we went to recitation, next afternoon, at 3 o’clock, he was again “ducked” from one of the upper windows. The water fell like a cataract, and, being close behind him, I received a share of it We went to tecitation with our clothes saturated; but we were hot enough inside| to counteract any danger of a “chill.”

Going out, however, I waited on by two Sophs, who told me, wiib their regrets, that my ducking was wholly unintentional; and advised me, with a laugh, not to walk too close to ,‘Freshman Gilmore” in future. , In return for their warning, I hinted that it was as much as somebody’s life was worth to insult Ned as the Sophs were doing. With a sneer, they replied that they would take some of that conceit out of him. “He carries his head,” suid one of them, “higher thau the chapel tower!” It was true that Ned did carry his head pretty high. He expressed bis hatted aud contempt of the Sophs in every movement. They, on’their part, resolved to humble him Ned was ducked more than a dozen times during the next week. It seemed as if he could not stir out without bringing down a deluge upon his head. He was hooted, too, and insuitingl a-ked why he didn’t come out in his "Kersey” again. They meanly tiied to provoke him in every way, until the poor fellow, like a caged and fomented animal, seemed driven to Jdesperation. -

Ned wan a young mare of good principles. He abhorred anything rneau or had. He wan warm-heartcu, too, and not a youth likely to do a cruel or unlawful act. Yet the insults which the Sophs heaped upon him, and his strong sense of what he knew to lie his rights, led hi in to buy a revolver. Now the roan or l*oy who buys a revolver in finger against a fellow-being has tout dor in ids heart. This l think I fully realized when Ned came into our room and took the revolver out or his pocket. I was frightened, and I hardly kneiw what to say or do. I was indignant at the treatment Ned was receiving, and had, too. something of Ned’s feeling thut a yotiug fellow ought to have manly spirit enough to stand fast for his rights; still, 1 saw something of the folly of Ned’s conduct. Now, I know full weii that no such “hazing tricks,” that nothing save the absolute necessity of <sf -nding one’s-life, should ever induce any one to use the pistol fort purpose ot shooting a fellow-being. “I will give them fair warning,” Ned said. “I cannot endure these insults any longer. I will give them fair warning. Then if they attack me, irey must take the consequences.” » I replied thut he had better go away for the rest of ibe term, aud so preveut trouble. *• Why should f leave?” Ned argued. “I have broken no law. I have interfered with no one. Those Sophs are cowardly bullies. I wilt not budge an inch.” But, in this not yet very perfect world, it is often the part of superior wisdom to foresee evil ami judiciously avoid it. No man, however eminent and talented, cau always get his full rights. Some points he must yield to the imperfect tons aud the prejudices of his tellow men. The man who starts out determined to insist on his full rights in everything will soon find himself at .war with everybody. Yet it is one of the hardest lessons for a spirited young fellow’ to learn when aud how far it Is better to waive his rights or his preferences Ned was as good as his word. He gave the {Sophomores warning. At the door of their end of the hall the following notice was found posted at sunrise uext morning; TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Certaiu meuil»er» of the Sopliomore class have outrageously and persistently iusulted me. I, hold that, in the matter of ordinary dress, I have a right to wear what I deem proper. That right I shall staud for. Hereafter, whoever assaults me op that account will do so at the peril of his life. Edward S. Gilmore. This was fire and fagots for the Sophomores. A Freshman had defied' them. The-, honor of their class—a poor honor enough, to be sure—was at stake, and class pride runs very high in many colleges—even iu those where it is cltfiined that “hazing” has oeeu abolished. Hoping to avert mischief, I privately told several Sops that Ned really had a pistol, aud would shoot the first who attacked him. But I only added fuel to fire. Their whole class met that night, and voted, almost to a man, to “crush Gilmore” at all hazards. They, too, were “spirited fellows.” This was Friday night. Saturday passed iu a sort of ominous silence. Ned went out but once, and theu wore bis cap. But Sunday morning he dressed himself carefully church, and put on a new silk hat The hat was a tall one, in the height of the prevailing style. “Ned, I wouldn’t do it," I said to him.* “There wiH"be trouble, and you may be sorry for the results?” “I will!” said Ned, firmly. “Bullying lias got to stop here.” He then put fresh cartridges into his revolver and placed it iu his breast pocket

I confess I would rather not have walked to church witn Ned; but I could not have deserted him in danger. We set off together, and had gone about half way, when? near one of the halls, we met some of the Sophs, each with a stout cane. No doubt they bad been on the lookout for Ned. Burnett, a leading classman of the Sophs, was one of the three. I knew they meant to attack Ned the moment I saw them. Burnett was a trained athlete and the best oarsman and haseh&ll player in college. The moment we met he leaped In front «f Ned, and, with a quick stroke of his heavy cane, sent the tall hat whirling Into the ditch. Whether he would have struck Ned, 1 don’t know. He seemed to raise his cane again, but perhaps only to defend

himself. For Ned jumped backward an the instant, and. drawing his revolver, fired three snots at his assail ant. t I shall never forget what a sound those shots had for roe. At the fiiet fire. Burnett reeled across the sidewalk against tic fci.ce. At d I saw the blood start fcmn under his collar. The Iwll had gone through the left side ol his neck. It seemed to stun him partially, though he did not fall, but lay or hung on the fence. The second shot misted him; the third went through his coat and vest, and bedded Itself against tlie breast bone. The other two Sophs fell back. Ned stood a momeut looking at Burnett. “You ruffian!” egid he, “It Fve killed you, you deserve It?” Then he returned aud went to bis rAom. The other two Sophs were completely cowed, as well they might be. t-Togeth-er we carried Burnett to the steps of the hall, aud took him into one of the reception rooms. A physician was brought as speedily as possible. The ball had made an ugly furrow across Burnett’s strong neck. It was aldangerons wound, the doctor said, but not necessarily mortal Thewound on his breast was of much less consequence. That was all I waited to hear. Leaving the wounded man, I hastened to our room. I shall never forget how Ned looked at my face when I opened the door. He sat on a chair, pale as a corpse, with the revolver in his hand. “Is he dead?” he asked, in a low tone. I told him that the doctor had said that Burnett would probably get well. The pistol dropped ujs>n the floor, he buried his face in his hands, and cried like a child.

Burnett was pronounced out of danger next day, and, as he declined to enter legal complaint, no arrests were made. Three days after, however, Ned was summoned before the President aud faculty of the college, aud oil the following day not only he, but the other two Sophomores engaged In the affair, were expelled from the college, as they deserved to be. Hazing, as well as carrvingrevolvers for personal defense, are both of them barbarous practices. There is no manhood in either. They show how enduring are the savage traits that characterized ourearliest ancestors. Reason and every true manly instinct revolt at the repetition of such practices, and cun only condemn them.