shadow of the hills
in the water, his plan for spending his summer vacation might be a
success, but he was not so sure about his opportunities for studying
human nature under the worst conditions. It was true that the
conditions were bad enough, but so were the results, and George was
not in search of logical sequences. He had been in the habit of saying
that nothing interested him as much as the study of his fellows; and
that he was in earnest was proved by the fact that even his college
experiences had not yet disheartened him, although they had cost him
not a few neckties and coats, and sometimes too many of his dollars.
But George had higher aspirations, and was not disposed to be
satisfied with the opportunities presented by crude collegians or
even learned professors, and so meant to go out among men. When he was
younger,--a year or two before,--he had dreamed of a mission among the
Indians, fancying that he would reach original principles among them;
but the Modocs and Captain Jack had lowered his faith, while the Rev.
Dr. Buck's story of how the younger savages had been taught to
make beds and clean knives, until they preferred these civilized
occupations to their old habit of scampering through the woods, had
dispelled more of the glitter, and he had resolved to confine
his labors to his white brethren. He did not mean to seek his
opportunities among the rich, nor among the monotonously dreary poor
of the city, but in a fresher field. Like most theological students,
he was well read in current literature, and he had learned how often
the noblest virtues are found among the roughest classes. It was true,
they were sometimes so latent that like the jewel in a toad's head
they had the added grace of unexpectedness, but that did not interfere
with the fact of their existence. He had read of California gamblers
who had rushed from tables where they had sat with bowie-knives
between their teeth, to warn a coming train of broken rails, and, when
picked up maimed and dying, had simply asked if the children were
saved, and then, content, had turned aside and died. He knew the
story of the Mississippi engineer who, going home with a long-sought
fortune to claim his waiting bride, had saved his boat from wreck by
supplying the want of fuel by hat, coat, boots, wedding-clothes,
gloves, favors, and finally his bag of greenbacks and Northern Pacific
bonds, then returning to his duty, sans money, sans wife, but plus
honor and