diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:26:16 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:26:16 -0700 |
| commit | 8ba5201041845121dfb860126956a78bf2f2900d (patch) | |
| tree | 47eee8d9434fa3cfb1d5335b50a66eed8633afe9 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 5825-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 33404 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 5825-h/5825-h.htm | 1894 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 5825.txt | 1532 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 5825.zip | bin | 0 -> 32427 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/courc10.txt | 1491 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/courc10.zip | bin | 0 -> 31596 bytes |
9 files changed, 4933 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5825-h.zip b/5825-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..938a703 --- /dev/null +++ b/5825-h.zip diff --git a/5825-h/5825-h.htm b/5825-h/5825-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c55cb14 --- /dev/null +++ b/5825-h/5825-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1894 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en"> + +<head> + +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Courage of the Commonplace, +by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 4% } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.contents {text-indent: -3%; + margin-left: 5% } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 4em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Courage of the Commonplace, by +Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: The Courage of the Commonplace + +Author: Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +Posting Date: October 19, 2014 [EBook #5825] +Release Date: June, 2004 +First Posted: September 10, 2002 +Last Updated: July 7, 2004 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + + + + +Produced by the Literary Preservation Society of Lake Mary +High School, Lake Mary, FL. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> +<br /><br /><br /> +The Courage of the Commonplace +</h1> + +<p class="t2"> +by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews +</p> + +<p> +The girl and her chaperon had been deposited early in the desirable +second-story window in Durfee, looking down on the tree. Brant was +a senior and a "Bones" man, and so had a leading part to play in +the afternoon's drama. He must get the girl and the chaperon +off his hands, and be at his business. This was "Tap Day." It is +perhaps well to explain what "Tap Day" means; there are people +who have not been at Yale or had sons or sweethearts there. +</p> + +<p> +In New Haven, on the last Thursday of May, toward five in the +afternoon, one becomes aware that the sea of boys which ripples +always over the little city has condensed into a river flowing +into the campus. There the flood divides and re-divides; the +junior class is separating and gathering from all directions +into a solid mass about the nucleus of a large, low-hanging oak +tree inside the college fence in front of Durfee Hall. The three +senior societies of Yale, Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, and +Wolf's Head, choose to-day fifteen members each from the junior +class, the fifteen members of the outgoing senior class making +the choice. Each senior is allotted his man of the juniors, and +must find him in the crowd at the tree and tap him on the shoulder +and give him the order to go to his room. Followed by his sponsor +he obeys and what happens at the room no one but the men of the +society know. With shining face the lad comes back later and is +slapped on the shoulder and told, "good work, old man," cordially +and whole-heartedly by every friend and acquaintance—by lads who +have "made" every honor possible, by lads who have "made" nothing, +just as heartily. For that is the spirit of Yale. +</p> + +<p> +Only juniors room in Durfee Hall. On Tap Day an outsider is lucky +who has a friend there, for a window is a proscenium box for +the play—the play which is a tragedy to all but forty-five of the +three hundred and odd juniors. The windows of every story of the +gray stone facade are crowded with a deeply interested audience; +grizzled heads of old graduates mix with flowery hats of women; +every one is watching every detail, every arrival. In front of +the Hall is a drive, and room for perhaps a dozen carriages next +the fence—the famous fence of Yale—which rails the campus round. +Just inside it, at the north-east corner, rises the tree. People +stand up in the carriages, women and men; the fence is loaded with +people, often standing, too, to see that tree. +</p> + +<p> +All over the campus surges a crowd; students of the other classes, +seniors who last year stood in the compact gathering at the tree +and left it sore-hearted, not having been "taken"; sophomores +who will stand there next year, who already are hoping for and +dreading their Tap Day; little freshmen, each one sure that he, +at least, will be of the elect; and again the iron-gray heads, +the interested faces of old Yale men, and the gay spring hats +like bouquets of flowers. +</p> + +<p> +It is, perhaps, the most critical single day of the four years' +course at the University. It shows to the world whether or no a boy, +after three years of college life, has in the eyes of the student +body "made good." It is a crucial test, a heart-rending test +for a boy of twenty years. +</p> + +<p> +The girl sitting in the window of Durfee understood thoroughly +the character and the chances of the day. The seniors at the tree +wear derby hats; the juniors none at all; it is easier by this sign +to distinguish the classmen, and to keep track of the tapping. +The girl knew of what society was each black-hatted man who twisted +through the bareheaded throng; in that sea of tense faces she +recognized many; she could find a familiar head almost anywhere +in the mass and tell as much as an outsider might what hope was +hovering over it. She came of Yale people; Brant, her brother, +would graduate this year; she was staying at the house of a Yale +professor; she was in the atmosphere. +</p> + +<p> +There, near the edge of the pack, was Bob Floyd, captain of +the crew, a fair, square face with quiet blue eyes, whose +tranquil gaze was characteristic. To-day it was not tranquil; +it flashed anxiously here and there, and the girl smiled. She knew +as certainly as if the fifteen seniors had told her that Floyd +would be "tapped for Bones." The crew captain and the foot-ball +captain are almost inevitably taken for Skull and Bones. Yet +five years before Jack Emmett, captain of the crew, had not +been taken; only two years back Bert Connolly, captain of the +foot-ball team, had not been taken. The girl, watching the big +chap's unconscious face, knew well what was in his mind. "What +chance have I against all these bully fellows," he was saying +to himself in his soul, "even if I do happen to be crew captain? +Connolly was a mutt—couldn't take him—but Jack Emmett—there +wasn't any reason to be seen for that. And it's just muscles +I've got—I'm not clever—I don't hit it off with the crowd—I've +done nothing for Yale, but just for the crew. Why the dickens +should they take me?" But the girl knew. +</p> + +<p> +The great height and refined, supercilious face of another boy +towered near—Lionel Arnold, a born litterateur, and an artist—he +looked more confident than most. It seemed to the girl he felt +sure of being taken; sure that his name and position and, more +than all, his developed, finished personality must count as much + as that. And the girl knew that in the direct, unsophisticated<br /> +judgments of the judges these things did not count at all. +</p> + +<p> +So she gunned over the swarm which gathered to the oak tree as +bees to a hive, able to tell often what was to happen. Even to +her young eyes all these anxious, upturned faces, watching +silently with throbbing pulses for this first vital decision +of their lives, was a stirring sight. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't bear it for the ones who aren't taken," she cried out, +and the chaperon did not smile. +</p> + +<p> +"I know," she said. "Each year I think I'll never come again—it's +too heart-rending. It means so much to them, and only +forty-five can go away happy. Numbers are just broken-hearted. +I don't like it—it's brutal." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but it's an incentive to the under-classmen—it holds them +to the mark and gives them ambition, doesn't it?" the girl +argued doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +The older woman agreed. "I suppose on the whole it's a good +institution. And it's wonderful what wisdom the boys show. +Of course, they make mistakes, but on the whole they pick the +best men astonishingly. So many times they hit the ones who +come to be distinguished." +</p> + +<p> +"But so many times they don't," the girl followed her words. +Her father and Brant were Bones men—why was the girl arguing +against senior societies? "So many, Mrs. Anderson. Uncle Ted's +friend, the President of Hardrington College, was in Yale in +the '80's and made no senior society; Judge Marston of the +Supreme Court dined with us the other night—he didn't make +anything; Dr. Hamlin, who is certainly one of the great physicians +of the country, wasn't taken. I know a lot more. And look at +some who've made things. Look at my cousin, Gus Vanderpool—he +made Keys twenty years ago and has never done a thing since. +And that fat Mr. Hough, who's so rich and dull—he's Bones." +</p> + +<p> +"You've got statistics at your fingers' ends, haven't you?" said +Mrs. Anderson. "Anybody might think you had a brother among the +juniors who you weren't hopeful about." She looked at the girl +curiously. Then: "They must be about all there," she spoke, +leaning out. "A full fifty feet square of dear frightened laddies. +There's Brant, coming across the campus. He looks as if he was +going to make some one president. I suppose he feels so. There's +Johnny McLean. I hope he'll be taken—he's the nicest boy in the +whole junior class—but I'm afraid. He hasn't done anything +in particular." +</p> + +<p> +With that, a thrill caught the most callous of the hundreds of +spectators; a stillness fixed the shifting crowd; from the tower +of Battell chapel, close by, the college bell clanged the stroke +of five; before it stopped striking the first two juniors +would be tapped. +</p> + +<p> +The dominating, unhurried note rang, echoed, and began to +die away as they saw Brant's hand fall on Bob Floyd's shoulder. +The crew captain whirled and leaped, unseeing, through the crowd. +A great shout rose; all over the campus the people surged like +a wind-driven wave toward the two rushing figures, and everywhere +some one cried, "Floyd has gone Bones!" and the exciting business +had begun. +</p> + +<p> +One looks at the smooth faces of boys of twenty and wonders what +the sculptor Life is going to make of them. Those who have known +his work know what sharp tools are in his kit; they know the tragic +possibilities as well as the happy ones of those inevitable strokes; +they shrink a bit as they look at the smooth faces of the boys +and realize how that clay must be moulded in the workshop—how +the strong lines which ought to be there some day must come from +the cutting of pain and the grinding of care and the push and +weight of responsibility. Yet there is service and love, too, +and happiness and the slippery bright blade of success in the +kit of Life the sculptor; so they stand and watch, a bit pitifully +but hopefully, as the work begins, and cannot guide the chisel +but a little way, yet would not, if they could, stop it, for the +finished job is going to be, they trust, a man, and only the +sculptor Life can make such. +</p> + +<p> +The boy called Johnny McLean glanced up at the window in Durfee; +he met the girl's eyes, and the girl smiled back and made a gay +motion with her hand as if to say, "Keep up your pluck; you'll +be taken." And wished she felt sure of it. For, as Mrs. Anderson +had said, he had done nothing in particular. His marks were good, +he was a fair athlete; good at rowing, good at track work; he had +"heeled" the News for a year, but had not made the board. A gift of +music, which bubbled without effort, had put him on the Glee Club. +Yet that had come to him; it was not a thing he had done; boys +are critical of such distinctions. It is said that Skull and Bones +aims at setting its seal above all else on character. This boy had +sailed buoyantly from term to term delighted with the honors which +came to his friends, friends with the men who carried off honors, +with the best and strongest men in his class, yet never quite +arriving for himself. As the bright, anxious young face looked up +at the window where the women sat, the older one thought she could +read the future in it, and she sighed. It was a face which +attracted, broad-browed, clear-eyed, and honest, but not a strong +face—yet. John McLean had only made beginnings; he had accomplished +nothing. Mrs. Anderson, out of an older experience, sighed, because +she had seen just such winning, lovable boys before, and had seen +them grow into saddened, unsuccessful men. Yet he was full of +possibility; the girl was hoping against hope that Brant and the +fourteen other seniors of Skull and Bones would see it so and take +him on that promise. She was not pretending to herself that anything +but Johnny McLean's fate in it was the point of this Tap Day to her. +She was very young, only twenty also, but there was a maturity in +her to which the boy made an appeal. She felt a strength which +others missed; she wanted him to find it; she wanted passionately +to see him take his place where she felt he belonged, with the men +who counted. +</p> + +<p> +The play was in full action. Grave and responsible seniors worked +swiftly here and there through the tight mass, searching each one +his man; every two or three minutes a man was found and felt that +thrilling touch and heard the order, "Go to your room." Each time +there was a shout of applause; each time the campus rushed in +a wave. And still the three hundred stood packed, waiting—thinning +a little, but so little. About thirty had been taken now, +and the black senior hats were visibly fewer, but the upturned boy +faces seemed exactly the same. Only they grew more anxious minute +by minute; minute by minute they turned more nervously this way +and that as the seniors worked through the mass. And as another +and another crashed from among them blind and solemn and happy +with his guardian senior close after, the ones who were left seemed +to drop into deeper quiet. And now there were only two black hats +in the throng; the girl looking down saw John McLean standing +stiffly, his gray eyes fixed, his face pale and set; at that +moment the two seniors found their men together. It was all over. +He had not been taken. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the two hundred and fifty odd men who had not been good +enough dispersed, pluckily laughing and talking together—all +of them, it is safe to say, with heavy hearts; for Tap Day +counts as much as that at Yale. +</p> + +<p> +John McLean swung across the diagonal of the campus toward +Welch Hall where he lived. He saw the girl and her chaperon +come out of Durfee; and he lingered to meet them. Two days ago +he had met the girl here with Brant, and she had stopped and +shaken hands. It seemed to him it would help if that should +happen today. She might say a word; anything at all to show that +she was friends all the same with a fellow who wasn't good enough. +He longed for that. With a sick chaos of pain pounding at what +seemed to be his lungs he met her. Mrs. Anderson was between +them, putting out a quick hand; the boy hardly saw her as he +took it. He saw the girl, and the girl did not look at him. +With her head up and her brown eyes fixed on Phelps gate-way she +hurried along—and did not look at him. He could not believe +it—that girl—the girl. But she was gone; she had not looked at him. +Like a shot animal he suddenly began to run. He got to his rooms; +they were empty; Baby Thomas, his "wife," known as Archibald +Babington Thomas on the catalogue, but not elsewhere, had been +taken for Scroll and Key; he was off with the others who were +worth while. This boy went into his tiny bedroom and threw +himself down with his face in his pillow and lay still. Men +and women learn—sometimes—as they grow older, how to shut +the doors against disappointments so that only the vital ones +cut through, but at twenty all doors are open; the iron had come +into his soul, and the girl had given it a twist which had taken +his last ounce of courage. He lay still a long time, enduring—all +he could manage at first. It might have been an hour later +that he got up and went to his desk and sat down in the fading +light, his hands deep in his trousers pockets; his athletic young +figure dropped together listlessly; his eyes staring at the desk +where had worked away so many cheerful hours. Pictures hung +around it; there was a group taken last summer of girls and boys +at his home in the country, the girl was in it—he did not look +at her. His father's portrait stood on the desk, and a painting +of his long-dead mother. He thought to himself hotly that it was +good she was dead rather than see him shamed. For the wound was +throbbing with a fever, and the boy had not got to a sense of +proportion; his future seemed blackened. His father's picture +stabbed him; he was a "Bones" man—all of his family—his +grandfather, and the older brothers who had graduated four and +six years ago—all of them. Except himself. The girl had thought +it such a disgrace that she would not look at him! Then he grew +angry. It wasn't decent, to hit a man when he was down. A woman +ought to be gentle—if his mother had been alive—but then he +was glad she wasn't. With that a sob shook him—startled him. +Angrily he stood up and glared about the place. This wouldn't do; +he must pull himself together. He walked up and down the little +living room, bright with boys' belongings, with fraternity shields +and flags and fencing foils and paddles and pictures; he walked +up and down and he whistled "Dunderbeck," which somehow was in +his head. Then he was singing it: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh Dunderbeck, Oh Dunderbeck, how could you be so mean +As even to have thought of such a terrible machine! +For bob-tailed rats and pussy-cats shall never more be seen; +They'll all be ground to sausage-meat in Dunderbeck's machine." +</p> + +<p> +There are times when Camembert cheese is a steadying thing to +think of—or golf balls. "Dunderbeck" answered for John McLean. +It appeared difficult to sing, however—he harked back to +whistling. Then the clear piping broke suddenly. He bit his +lower lip and went and sat down before the desk again and turned +on the electric reading-lamp. Now he had given in long enough; +now he must face the situation; now was the time to find if +there was any backbone in him to "buck up." To fool those chaps +by amounting to something. There was good stuff in this boy that +he applied this caustic and not a salve. His buoyant +lightheartedness whispered that the fellows made mistakes; +that he was only one of many good chaps left; that Dick Harding +had a pull and Jim Stanton had an older brother—excuses came. +But the boy checked them. +</p> + +<p> +"That's not the point; I didn't make it; I didn't deserve it; +I've been easy on myself; I've got to change; so some day my +people won't be ashamed of me—maybe." Slowly, painfully, +he fought his way to a tentative self-respect. He might not +ever be anything big, a power as his father was, but he could +be a hard worker, he could make a place. A few days before a +famous speaker had given an address on an ethical subject at +Yale. A sentence of it came to the boy's struggling mind. +"The courage of the commonplace is greater than the courage +of the crisis," the orator had said. That was his chance—"the +courage of the commonplace." No fireworks for him, perhaps, +ever, but, by Jove, work and will could do a lot, and he could +prove himself worthy. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not through yet, but ginger," he said out loud. "I can do +my best anyhow and I'll show if I'm not fit"—the energetic tone +trailed off—he was only a boy of twenty—"not fit to be looked +at," he finished brokenly. +</p> + +<p> +It came to him in a vague, comforting way that probably the best +game a man could play with his life would be to use it as a tool +to do work with; to keep it at its brightest, cleanest, most +efficient for the sake of the work. This boy, of no phenomenal +sort, had one marked quality—when he had made a decision he +acted on it. Tonight through the soreness of a bitter +disappointment he put his finger on the highest note of his +character and resolved. All unknown to himself it was a crisis. +</p> + +<p> +It was long past dinner-time, but he dashed out now and got food, +and when Baby Thomas came in he found his room-mate sleepy, but +quite himself; quite steady in his congratulations as well as +normal in his abuse for "keeping a decent white man awake to +this hour." +</p> + +<p> +Three years later the boy graduated from the Boston "Tech." +As his class poured from Huntington Hall, he saw his father +waiting for him. He noted with pride, as he always did, the tall +figure, topped with a wonderful head—a mane of gray hair, +a face carved in iron, squared and cut down to the marrow of +brains and force—a man to be seen in any crowd. With that, +as his own met the keen eyes behind the spectacles, he was aware +of a look which startled him. The boy had graduated at the very +head of his class; that light in his father's eyes all at once +made two years of work a small thing. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't know you were coming, sir. That's mighty nice of you," +he said, as they walked down Boylston Street together, and his +father waited a moment and then spoke in his usual incisive tone. +</p> + +<p> +"I wouldn't have liked to miss it, Johnny," he said. "I don't +remember that anything in my life has ever made me as satisfied +as you have to-day." +</p> + +<p> +With a gasp of astonishment the young man looked at him, looked +away, looked at the tops of the houses, and did not find a word +anywhere. His father had never spoken to him so; never before, +perhaps, had he said anything as intimate to any of his sons. +They knew that the cold manner of the great engineer covered +depths, but they never expected to see the depths uncovered. +But here he was, talking of what he felt, of character, and +honor and effort. +</p> + +<p> +"I've appreciated what you've been doing," the even voice went on. +"I talk little about personal affairs. But I'm not uninterested; +I watch. I was anxious about you. You were a more uncertain +quantity than Ted and Harry. Your first three years at Yale +were not satisfactory. I was afraid you lacked manliness. +Then came—a disappointment. It was a blow to us—to family +pride. I watched you more closely, and I saw before that year +ended that you were taking your medicine rightly. I wanted to +tell you of my contentment, but being slow of speech I—couldn't. +So"—the iron face broke for a second into a whimsical grin—"so +I offered you a motor. And you wouldn't take it. I knew, +though you didn't explain, that you feared it would interfere +with your studies. I was right?" Johnny nodded. "Yes. And your +last year at college was—was all I could wish. I see now that +you needed a blow in the face to wake you up—and you got it. +And you waked." The great engineer smiled with clean pleasure. +"I have had"—he hesitated—"I have had always a feeling of +responsibility to your mother for you—more than for the others. +You were so young when she died that you seem more her child. +I was afraid I had not treated you well—that it was my fault +if you failed." The boy made a gesture—he could not very well +speak. His father went on: "So when you refused the motor, when +you went into engineer's camp that first summer instead of going +abroad, I was pleased. Your course here has been a satisfaction, +without a drawback—keener, certainly, because I am an engineer, +and could appreciate, step by step, how well you were doing, how +much you were giving up to do it, how much power you were gaining +by that long sacrifice. I've respected you through these years of +commonplace, and I've known how much more courage it meant in a +pleasure-loving lad such as you than it would have meant in a +serious person such as I am—such as Ted and Harry are, to an +extent, also." The older man, proud and strong and reserved, +turned on his son such a shining face as the boy had never seen. +"That boyish failure isn't wiped out, Johnny, for I shall remember +it as the corner-stone of your career, already built over with +an honorable record. You've made good. I congratulate you and +I honor you." +</p> + +<p> +The boy never knew how he got home. He knocked his shins badly +on a quite visible railing and it was out of the question to +say a single word. But if he staggered it was with an overload +of happiness, and if he was speechless and blind the stricken +faculties were paralyzed with joy. His father walked beside +him and they understood each other. He reeled up the streets +contented. +</p> + +<p> +That night there was a family dinner, and with the coffee his +father turned and ordered fresh champagne opened. +</p> + +<p> +"We must have a new explosion to drink to the new superintendent +of the Oriel mine," he said. Johnny looked at him surprised, +and then at the others, and the faces were bright with the same +look of something which they knew and he did not. +</p> + +<p> +"What's up?" asked Johnny. "Who's the superintendent of the +Oriel mine? Why do we drink to him? What are you all grinning +about, anyway?" The cork flew up to the ceiling, and the butler +poured gold bubbles into the glasses, all but his own. +</p> + +<p> +"Can't I drink to the beggar, too, whoever he is?" asked Johnny, +and moved his glass and glanced up at Mullins. But his father was +beaming at Mullins in a most unusual way and Johnny got no wine. +With that Ted, the oldest brother, pushed back his chair and +stood and lifted his glass. +</p> + +<p> +"We'll drink," he said, and bowed formally to Johnny, "to the +gentleman who is covering us all with glory, to the new +superintendent of the Oriel mine, Mr. John Archer McLean," +and they stood and drank the toast. Johnny, more or less dizzy, +more or less scarlet, crammed his hands in his pockets and +started and turned redder, and brought out interrogations in +the nervous English which is acquired at our great institutions +of learning. +</p> + +<p> +"Gosh! are you all gone dotty?" he asked. And "Is this a merry +jape?" And "Why, for cat's sake, can't you tell a fellow what's +up your sleeve?" While the family sipped champagne and regarded him. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, if I've squirmed for you enough, I wish you'd explain—father, +tell me!" the boy begged. +</p> + +<p> +And the tale was told by the family, in chorus, without politeness, +interrupting freely. It seemed that the president of the big mine +needed a superintendent, and wishing young blood and the latest +ideas had written to the head of the Mining Department in the +School of Technology to ask if he would give him the name of the +ablest man in the graduating class—a man to be relied on for +character as much as brains, he specified, for the rough army of +miners needed a general at their head almost more than a scientist. +Was there such a combination to be found, he asked, in a youngster +of twenty-three or twenty-four, such as would be graduating from +the "Tech"? If possible, he wanted a very young man—he wanted the +enthusiasm, he wanted the athletic tendency, he wanted the +plus-strength, he wanted the unmade reputation which would look +for its making to hard work in the mine. The letter was produced +and read to the shamefaced Johnny. "Gosh!" he remarked at intervals +and remarked practically nothing else. There was no need. They were +so proud and so glad that it was almost too much for the boy who +had been a failure three years ago. +</p> + +<p> +On the urgent insistence of every one he made a speech. He got +to his six-feet-two slowly, and his hands went into his trousers +pockets as usual. "Holy mackerel," he began—"I don't call it +decent to knock the wind out of a man and then hold him up for +remarks. They all said in college that I talked the darnedest +hash in the class, anyway. But you will have it, will you? I +haven't got anything to say, so's you'd notice it, except that +I'll be blamed if I see how this is true. Of course I'm keen +for it—Keen! I should say I was! And what makes me keenest, +I believe, is that I know it's satisfactory to Henry McLean." +He turned his bright face to his father. "Any little plugging +I've done seems like thirty cents compared to that. You're all +peaches to take such an interest, and I thank you a lot. Me, +the superintendent of the Oriel mine! Holy mackerel!" gasped +Johnny, and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +The proportion of fighting in the battle of life outweighs the +"beer and skittles"; as does the interest. Johnny McLean found +interest in masses, in the drab-and-dun village on the prairie. +He found pleasure, too, and as far as he could reach he tried to +share it; buoyancy and generosity were born in him; strenuousness +he had painfully acquired, and like most converts was a fanatic +about it. He was splendidly fit; he was the best and last output + of the best institution in the country; he went at his work<br /> +like a joyful locomotive. Yet more goes to explain what he was +and what he did. He developed a faculty for leading men. The +cold bath of failure, the fire of success had tempered the young +steel of him to an excellent quality; bright and sharp, it cut +cobwebs in the Oriel mine where cobwebs had been thickening for +months. The boy, normal enough, quite unphenomenal, was growing +strong by virtue of his one strong quality: he did what he +resolved to do. For such a character to make a vital decision +rightly is a career. On the night of the Tap Day which had so +shaken him, he had struck the key-note. He had resolved to use +his life as if it were a tool in his hand to do work, and he +had so used it. The habit of bigness, once caught, possesses one +as quickly as the habit of drink; Johnny McLean was as unhampered +by the net of smallnesses which tangle most of us as a hermit; +the freedom gave him a power which was fast making a marked man +of him. +</p> + +<p> +There was dissatisfaction among the miners; a strike was probable; +the popularity of the new superintendent warded it off from month +to month, which counted unto him for righteousness in the mind +of the president, of which Johnny himself was unaware. Yet the +cobwebs grew; there was an element not reached by, resentful of, +the atmosphere of Johnny's friendliness—"Terence O'Hara's gang." +By the old road of music he had found his way to the hearts of +many. There were good voices among the thousand odd workmen, +and Johnny McLean could not well live without music. He heard +Dennis Mulligan's lovely baritone and Jack Dennison's rolling +bass, as they sang at work in the dim tunnels of the coal-mine, +and it seemed quite simple to him that they and he and others +should meet when work hours were over and do some singing. +Soon it was a club—then a big club; it kept men out of saloons, +which Johnny was glad of, but had not planned. A small kindliness +seems often to be watered and fertilized by magic. Johnny's +music-club grew to be a spell to quiet wild beasts. Yet Terence +O'Hara and his gang had a strong hold; there was storm in the air +and the distant thunder was heard almost continually. +</p> + +<p> +Johnny, as he swung up the main street of the flat little town, +the brick school-house and the two churches at one end, many +saloons en route, and the gray rock dump and the chimneys and +shaft-towers of the mine at the other, carried a ribbon of +brightness through the sordid place. Women came to the doors to +smile at the handsome young gentleman who took his hat off as if +they were ladies; children ran by his side, and he knocked their +caps over their eyes and talked nonsense to them, and swung on +whistling. But at night, alone in his room, he was serious. +How to keep the men patient; how to use his influence with them; +how to advise the president—for young as he was he had to do +this because of the hold he had gained on the situation; what +concessions were wise—the young face fell into grave lines as +he sat, hands deep in his pockets as usual, and considered these +questions. Already the sculptor Life was chiselling away the +easy curves with the tool of responsibility. +</p> + +<p> +He thought of other things sometimes as he sat before the wood fire +in his old Morris chair. His college desk was in the corner by the +window, and around it hung photographs ordered much as they had +been in New Haven. The portrait of his father on the desk, the +painting of his mother, and above them, among the boys' faces, +the group of boys and girls of whom she was one, the girl whom +he had not forgotten. He had not seen her since that Tap Day. +She had written him soon after—an invitation for a week-end at +her mother's camp in the woods. But he would not go. He sat +in the big chair staring at the fire, this small room in the West, +and thought about it. No, he could not have gone to her house +party—how could he? He had thought, poor lunatic, that there +was an unspoken word between them; that she was different to him +from what she was to the others. Then she had failed him at the +moment of need. He would not be taken back half-way, with the +crowd. He could not. So he had civilly ignored the hand which +had held out several times, in several ways. Hurt and proud, +yet without conceit, he believed that she kept him at a distance, +and would not risk coming too near, and so stayed altogether away. +It happens at times that a big, attractive, self-possessed man +is secretly as shy, as fanciful, as the shyest girl—if he cares. +Once and again indeed the idea flashed into the mind of Johnny +McLean—that perhaps she had been so sorry that she did not dare +look at him. But he flung that aside with a savage half-thought. +</p> + +<p> +"What rot! It's probable that I was important enough for that, +isn't it? You fool!" And about then he was likely to get up with +a spring and attack a new book on pillar and shaft versus the block +system of mining coal. +</p> + +<p> +The busy days went on, and the work grew more absorbing, the +atmosphere more charged with an electricity which foretold +tempest. The president knew that the personality of the young +superintendent almost alone held the electricity in solution +that for months he and his little musical club and his large +popularity had kept off the strike. Till at last a day came +in early May. +</p> + +<p> +We sit at the ends of the earth and sew on buttons and play cards +while fate wipes from existence the thing dearest to us. Johnny's +father that afternoon mounted his new saddle-horse and rode +through the afternoon lights and shadows of spring. The girl, +who had not forgotten, either, went to a luncheon and the theatre +after. And it was not till next morning that Brant, her brother, +called to her, as she went upstairs after breakfast, in a voice +which brought her running back. He had a paper in his hand, +and he held it to her. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, Brant? Something bad?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said, breathing fast. "Awful. It's going to make +you feel badly, for you liked him—poor old Johnny McLean." +</p> + +<p> +"Johnny McLean?" she repeated. Brant went on. +</p> + +<p> +"Yesterday—a mine accident. He went down after the entombed men. +Not a chance." Brant's mouth worked. "He died—like a hero—you +know." The girl stared. +</p> + +<p> +"Died? Is Johnny McLean dead?" +</p> + +<p> +She did fall down, or cry out, but then Brant knew. Swiftly he +came up and put his big, brotherly arm around her. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait, my dear," he said. "There's a ray of hope. Not really +hope, you know—it was certain death he went to—but yet they +haven't found—they don't know, absolutely, that he's dead." +</p> + +<p> +Five minutes later the girl was locked in her room with the paper. +His name was in large letters in the head-lines. She read the +account over many times, with painstaking effort to understand +that this meant Johnny McLean. That he was down there now, while +she breathed pure air. Many times she read it, dazed. Suddenly +she flashed to the window and threw it open and beat on the stone +sill and dragged her hands across it. Then in a turn she felt +this to be worse than useless and dropped on her knees and found +out what prayer is. She read the paper again, then, and faced +things. +</p> + +<p> +It was the oft-repeated, incredible story of men so accustomed to +danger that they throw away their lives in sheer carelessness. +A fire down in the third level, five hundred feet underground; +delay in putting it out; shifting of responsibility of one to +another, mistakes and stupidity; then the sudden discovering +that they were all but cut off; the panic and the crowding for +the shaft, and scenes of terror and selfishness and heroism +down in the darkness and smothering smoke. +</p> + +<p> +The newspaper story told how McLean, the young superintendent, +had come running down the street, bare-headed, with his light, +great pace of an athlete. How, just as he got there, the cage +of six men, which had gone to the third level, had been drawn +up after vague, wild signalling, filled with six corpses. +How, when the crowd had seen that he meant to go down, a storm +of appeal had broken that he should not throw his life away; +how the very women whose husbands and sons were below had clung +to him. Then the paper told of how he had turned at the mouth +of the shaft—the girl could see him standing there tall and broad, +with the light on his boyish blond head. He had snatched a +paper from his pocket and waved it at arm's-length so that everyone +could see. The map of the mine. Gallery 57, on the second level, +where the men now below had been working, was close to gallery 9, +entered from the other shaft a quarter of a mile away. The two +galleries did not communicate, but only six feet of earth divided +them. The men might chop through to 9 and reach the other shaft +and be saved. But the men did not know it. He explained shortly +that he must get to them and tell them. He would go to the second +level and with an oxygen helmet would reach possible air before +he was caught. Quickly, with an unhesitating decision, he talked, +and his buoyancy put courage in to the stricken crowd. With that +a woman's voice lifted. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't go—don't ye go, darlin'," it screamed. "'Tis no frinds +down there. 'Tis Terence O'Hara and his gang—'tis the +strike-makers. Don't be throwin' away your sweet young life +for thim." +</p> + +<p> +The boy laughed. "That's all right. Terence has a right to +his chance." He went on rapidly. "I want five volunteers—quick. +A one-man chance isn't enough to take help. Quick—five." +</p> + +<p> +And twenty men pushed to the boy to follow him into hell. +Swiftly he picked five; they put on the heavy oxygen helmets; +there was a deep silence as the six stepped into the cage and +McLean rang the bell that signaled the engineer to let them down. +That was all. They were the last rescuers to go down, and the +cage had been drawn up empty. That was all, the newspaper said. +The girl read it. All! And his father racing across the +continent, to stand with the shawled women at the head of the +shaft. And she, in the far-off city, going though the motions +of living. +</p> + +<p> +The papers told of the crowds gathering, of the Red Cross, +of the experts come to consider the situation, of the line +of patient women, with shawls over their heads, waiting always, +there at the first gray light, there when night fell; the girl, +gasping at her window, would have given years of her life to +have stood with those women. The second day she read that +they had closed the mouth of the shaft; it was considered that +the one chance for life below lay in smothering the flames. +When the girl read that, a madness came on her. The shawled +women felt that same madness; if the inspectors and the company +officials had insisted they could not have kept the mine closed +long—the people would have opened it by force; it was felt +unendurable to seal their men below; the shaft was unsealed in +twenty-four hours. But the smoke came out, and then the watchers +realized that a wall of flame was worse than a wall of planks +and sand, and the shaft was closed again. +</p> + +<p> +For days there was no news; then the first fruitless descent; +then men went down and brought up heavy shapes rolled in canvas +and bore them to the women; and "each morning the Red Cross +president, lifting the curtain of the car where he slept, would +see at first light the still rows of those muffled figures +waiting in the hopeless daybreak." Not yet had the body of the +young superintendent been found; yet one might not hope because +of that. But when one afternoon the head-lines of the papers +blazed with a huge "Rescued," she could not read it, and she knew +that she had hoped. +</p> + +<p> +It was true. Eighteen men had been brought up alive, and Johnny +McLean was one. Johnny McLean carried out senseless, with an +arm broken, with a gash in his forehead done by a falling beam +as he crawled to hail the rescuers—but Johnny McLean alive. +He was very ill, yet the girl had not a minute's doubt that +he would get well. +</p> + +<p> +And while he lay unconscious, the papers of the country rang +with the story of what he had done, and his father sitting +by his bed read it, through unashamed tears, but Johnny took +no interest. Breathing satisfied him pretty well for a while. +There is no need to tell over what the papers told—how he had +taken the leadership of the demoralized band; how when he found +them cut off from the escape which he had planned he had set +them to work building a barrier across a passage where the air +was fresher; how behind this barrier they had lived for six days, +by the faith and courage of Johnny McLean. How he had kept them +busy playing games, telling stories; had taught them music and +put heart into them to sing glees, down in their tomb; how he had + stood guard over the pitiful supply of water which dripped from<br /> +the rock walls, and found ways of saving every drop and made +each man take his turn; how when Tom Steele went mad and tried +to break out of the barrier on the fifth day, it was McLean who +fought him and kept him from the act which would have let in the +black damp to kill all of them; how it was the fall in the +slippery darkness of that struggle which had broken his arm. +The eighteen told the story, but by bit, as the men grew strong +enough to talk, and the record rounded out, of life and reason +saved by a boy who had risen out of the gray of commonplace +into the red light of heroism. The men who came out of that +burial spoke afterward of McLean as of an inspired being. +</p> + +<p> +At all events the strike question was settled in that week below, +and Johnny McLean held the ringleaders now in the hollow of his +hand. Terence O'Hara opened his eyes and delivered a dictum two +hours after he was carried home. "Tell thim byes," he growled +in weak jerks, "that if any wan of thim says shtrike till that +McLean child drops the hat, they'll fight—O'Hara." +</p> + +<p> +Day after day, while the country was in an uproar of enthusiasm, +Johnny lay unconscious, breathing, and doing no more. And large +engineering affairs were allowed to go and rack and ruin while +Henry McLean watched his son. +</p> + +<p> +On a hot morning such as comes in May, a veteran fly of the year +before buzzed about the dim window of the sick-room and banged +against the half-closed shutters. Half-conscious of the sound +the boy's father read near it, when another sound made his pulse +jump. +</p> + +<p> +"Chase him out," came from the bed in a weak, cheerful voice. +"Don't want any more things shut up for a spell." +</p> + +<p> +An hour later the older man stood over the boy. "Do you know +your next job, Johnny?" he said. "You've got to get well in +three weeks. Your triennial in New Haven is then." +</p> + +<p> +"Holy—mackerel!" exploded the feeble tones. "All right, Henry, +I'll do it." +</p> + +<p><br /></p> + +<p class="t3"> +* * * +</p> + +<p><br /></p> + +<p> +Somewhere in the last days of June, New England is at its +loveliest and it is commencement time at Yale. Under the tall +elms stretch the shady streets, alive eternally with the +ever-new youth of ever-coming hundreds of boys. But at +commencement the pleasant, drowsy ways take on an astonishing +character; it is as if the little city had gone joyfully mad. +Hordes of men of all ages, in startling clothes, appear in all +quarters. Under Phelps Gate-way one meets pirates with long hair, +with ear-rings, with red sashes; crossing the campus comes a band +of Highlanders, in front of the New Haven House are stray +Dutchmen and Japanese and Punchinellos and other flotsam not +expected in a decorous town; down College Street a group of +men in gowns of white swing away through the dappled shadows. +</p> + +<p> +The atmosphere is enchanted; it is full of greetings and reunions +and new beginnings and of old friendship; with the every-day +clothes the boys of old have shed responsibilities and dignities +and are once more irresponsibly the boys of old. From California +and Florida, even from China and France, they come swarming into +the Puritan place, while in and out through the light-hearted +kaleidoscopic crowd hurry slim youngsters in floating black gown +and scholar's cap—the text of all this celebration, the +graduating class. Because of them it is commencement, it is +they who step now over the threshold and carry Yale's honor in +their young hands into the world. But small attention do they get, +the graduating class, at commencement. The classic note of their +grave youthfulness is drowned in the joyful uproar; in the clamor +of a thousand greetings one does not listen to these voices which +say farewell. From the nucleus of these busy, black-clad young +fellows, the folds of their gowns billowing about light, strong +figures, the stern lines of the Oxford cap graciously at odds +with the fresh modelling of their faces—down from these lads +in black, the largest class of all, taper the classes,—fewer, +grayer, as the date is older, till a placard on a tree in the +campus tells that the class of '51, it may be, has its +head-quarters at such a place; a handful of men with white hair +are lunching together—and that is a reunion. +</p> + +<p> +In the afternoon of commencement day there is a base-ball game at +Yale Field. To that the returning classes go in costume, mostly +marching out afoot, each with its band of music, through the gay, +dusty street, by the side of the gay, dusty street, by the side +of the gay, crowded trolley-cars loaded to the last inch of the +last step with a holiday crowd, good-natured, sympathetic, full +of humor as an American crowd is always. The men march laughing, +talking, nodding to friends in the cars, in the motors, in the +carriages which fly past them; the bands play; the houses are +faced with people come to see the show. +</p> + +<p> +The amphitheatre of Yale Field is packed with more than ten +thousand. The seniors are there with their mothers and fathers, +their pretty little sisters and their proud little brothers—the +flower of the country. One looks about and sees everywhere +high-bred faces, strong faces, open-eyed, drinking in this +extraordinary scene. For there is nothing just like it elsewhere. +Across the field where hundreds of automobiles and carriages are +drawn close—beyond that is a gate-way, and through this, at +three o'clock or so, comes pouring a rainbow. A gigantic, +light-filled, motion-swept rainbow of men. The first rays +of vivid color resolve into a hundred Japanese geishas; they +come dancing, waving paper umbrellas down Yale Field; on their +heels press Dutch kiddie, wooden-shod, in scarlet and white, +with wigs of peroxide hair. Then sailors, some of them twirling +oars—the famous victorious crew of fifteen years back; with +these march a dozen lads from fourteen to eight, the sons of +the class, sailor-clad too; up from their midst as they reach +the centre of the field drifts a flight of blue balloons of all +sizes. Then come the men of twenty years ago stately in white +gowns and mortar-boards; then the Triennials, with a class boy +of two years, costumed in miniature and trundled in a go-cart +by a nervous father. The Highlanders stalk by to the skirl of +bagpipes with their contingent of tall boys, the coming sons +of Alma Mater. The thirty-five-year graduates, eighty strong, +the men who are handling the nation, wear a unanimous sudden +growth of rolling gray beard. Class after class they come, +till over a thousand men have marched out to the music of bands, +down Yale Field and past the great circle of the seats, and +have settled in brilliant masses of color on the "bleachers." +Then from across the field rise men's voices singing. They +sing the college songs which their fathers sang, which their +sons and great-grandsons will sing. The rhythm rolls forward +steadily in all those deep voices: +</p> + +<p> +"Nor time nor change can aught avail," the words come, +</p> + +<p> +"To break the friendships formed at Yale." +</p> + +<p> +There is many a breath caught in the crowded multitude to hear +the men sing that. +</p> + +<p> +Then the game—and Yale wins. The classes pour on the field in +a stormy sea of color, and dance quadrilles, and form long lines +hand in hand which sway and cross and play fantastically in a +dizzying, tremendous jubilation which fills all of Yale Field. +The people standing up to go cannot go, but stay and watch them, +these thousand children of many ages, this marvellous show of +light-heartedness and loyalty. Till at last the costumes drift +together in platoons and disappear slowly; and the crowd thins +and the last and most stirring act of the commencement-day drama +is at hand. +</p> + +<p> +It has come to be an institution that after the game the old +graduates should go, class by class, to the house of the president +of Yale, to renew allegiance. It has come to be an institution +that he, standing on the steps of his house, should make a short +speech to each class. The rainbow of men, sweeping gloriously +down the city streets with their bands, dissolves into a whirlwind +at the sight of that well-known, slight, dignified figure on the +doorstep of the modest house—this is a thing which one who has +seen it does not forget; the three-minute speeches, each apt to +its audience, each pointed with a dart straight to the heart of +class pride and sentiment, these are a marvel. Few men living +could come out of a such a test creditably; only this master of +men and of boys could do it as he does. For each class goes away +confident that the president at least shares its conviction that +it is the best class ever graduated. Life might well be worth +living, it would seem, to a man who should hear every year hundreds +of men's voices thundering his name as these men behind the class +banners. +</p> + +<p> +Six weeks after the disaster of the Oriel mine it was commencement +day in New Haven and Johnny McLean, his broken arm in a sling, +a square of adhesive plaster on his forehead, was back for his +Triennial. He was mightily astonished at the greeting he got. +Classmates came up to him and shook his hand and said half a +sentence and stopped, with an arm around his shoulder; people +treated him in a remarkable way, as if he had done something +unheard of. +</p> + +<p> +It gratified him, after a fashion, yet it more than half annoyed +him. He mentioned over and over again in protest that he had done +nothing which "every one of you fellows wouldn't have done just +the same," but they laughed at that and stood staring in a most +embarrassing way. +</p> + +<p> +"Gosh, Johnny McLean," Tim Erwin remarked finally, "wake up and +hear the birdies sing. Do you mean to tell me you don't know +you're the hero of the whole blamed nation?" +</p> + +<p> +And Johnny McLean turned scarlet and replied that he didn't think +it so particularly funny to guy a man who had attended strictly +to his business, and walked off. While Erwin and the others +regarded him astounded. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, if that isn't too much!" gasped Tim. "He actually doesn't know!" +</p> + +<p> +"He's likely to find out before we get through," Neddy Haines, +of Denver, jerked out nasally and they laughed as if at a secret +known together. +</p> + +<p> +So Johnny pursued his way through the two or three days before +commencement, absorbed in meeting friends, embarrassed at times +by their manner, but taking obstinately the modest place in the +class which he had filled in college. It did not enter his mind +that anything he had done could alter his standing with the +"fellows." Moreover, he did not spend time considering that. +So he was one of two hundred Buster Browns who marched to Yale Field +in white Russian blouses with shiny blue belts, in sailor hats +with blue ribbons, and when the Triennials rushed tempestuously +down Trumbull Street in the tracks of the gray-beards of thirty-five +years before, Johnny found himself carried forward so that he +stood close to the iron fence which guards the little yard from +the street. There is always an afternoon tea at the president's +house after the game, to let people see the classes make their +call on the head of the University. The house was full of people; +the yard was filled with gay dresses and men gathered to see the +parade. +</p> + +<p> +On the high stone steps under the arch of the doorway stood the +president and close by him the white, light figure of a little +girl, her black hair tied with a big blue bow. Clustered in the +shadow behind them were other figures. Johnny McLean saw the +little maid and then his gaze was riveted on the president. +It surely was good to see him again; this man who knew how to +make them all swear by him. +</p> + +<p> +"What will he have to say to us," Johnny wondered. "Something +that will please the whole bunch, I'll bet. He always hits it." +</p> + +<p> +"Men of the class of —," the president began, in his deep, +characteristic intonations, "I know that there is only one name +you want to hear me speak; only one thought in all the minds +of your class." +</p> + +<p> +A hoarse murmur which a second's growth would have made into a +wild shout started in the throats of the massed men behind the +class banner. The president held up his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait a minute. We want that cheer; we'll have it; but I've got +a word first. A great speaker who talked to you boys in your +college course said a thing that came to my mind to-day. +'The courage of the commonplace,' he said, 'is greater than the +courage of the crisis.'" +</p> + +<p> +Again that throaty, threatening growl, and again the president's +hand went up—the boys were hard to hold. +</p> + +<p> +"I see a man among you whose life has added a line to that saying, +who has shown to the world that it is the courage of the commonplace +which trains for the courage of the crisis. And that's all I've got +to say, for the nation is saying the rest—except three times three +for the glory of the class of —, the newest name on the honor roll +of Yale, McLean of the Oriel mine." +</p> + +<p> +It is probably a dizzying thing to be snatched into the seventh +heaven. Johnny McLean standing, scarlet, stunned, his eyes glued +on the iron fence between him and the president, knew nothing +except a whirling of his brain and an earnest prayer that he might +not make a fool of himself. With that, even as the thunder of +voices began, he felt himself lifted, swung to men's shoulders, +carried forward. And there he sat in his foolish Buster Brown +costume, with his broken arm in its sling, with the white patch +on his forehead, above his roaring classmates. There he sat +perspiring and ashamed, and faced the head of the University, who, +it must be said, appeared not to miss the humor of the situation, +for he laughed consumedly. And still they cheered and still his +name rang again and again. Johnny, hot and squirming under the +merry presidential eye, wondered if they were going to cheer +all night. And suddenly everything—class-mates, president, +roaring voices—died away. There was just one thing on earth. +In the doorway, in the group behind the president, a girl stood +with her head against the wall and cried as if her heart would +break. Cried frankly, openly, mopping away tears with a +whole-hearted pocket-handkerchief, and cried more to mop away. +As if there were no afternoon tea, no mob of Yale men in the streets, +no world full of people who might, if they pleased, see those tears and +understand. The girl. Herself. Crying. In a flash, by the +light of the happiness that was overwhelming, he found this other +happiness. He understood. The mad idea which had come back and back +to him out there in the West, which he had put down firmly, the idea +that she had cared too much and not too little on that Tap Day four +years ago—that idea was true. She did care. She cared still. +He knew it without a doubt. He sat on the men's shoulders in his +ridiculous clothes, and the heavens opened. Then the tumult and the +shouting died and they let the hero down, and to the rapid succession +of strong emotions came as a relief another emotion—enthusiasm. +They were cheering the president, on the point of bursting +themselves into fragments to do it, it seemed. There were two +hundred men behind the class banner, and each one was converting +what was convertible of his being into noise. Johnny McLean +turned to with a will and thundered into the volume of tone +which sounded over and over the two short syllables of a name +which to a Yale man's idea fits a cheer better than most. +The president stood quiet, under the heaped-up honors of a +brilliant career, smiling and steady under that delirious music +of his own name rising, winged with men's hearts, to the skies. +Then the band was playing again and they were marching off down the +street together, this wonderful class that knew how to turn earth +into heaven for a fellow who hadn't done much of a stunt anyhow, +this grand, glorious, big-hearted lot of chaps who would have done +much more in his place, every soul of them—so Johnny McLean's +thoughts leaped in time with his steps as they marched away. +And once or twice a terror seized him—for he was weak yet from +his illness—that he was going to make "a fool of himself." +He remembered how the girl had cried; he thought of the way the +boys had loaded him with honor and affection; he heard the +president's voice speaking those impossible words about him—about +him—and he would have given a large sum of money at one or two +junctures to bolt and get behind a locked door alone where he might +cry as the girl had. But the unsentimental hilarity all around saved +him and brought him through without a stain on his behavior. Only he +could not bolt—he could not get a moment to himself for love or money. +It was for love he wanted it. He must find her—he could not wait now. +But he had to wait. He had to go into the country to dinner with +them all and be lionized and made speeches at, and made fun of, and +treated as the darling child and the pride and joy and—what was harder +to bear—as the hero and the great man of the class. All the time +growing madder with restlessness, for who could tell if she might +not be leaving town! A remnant of the class ahead crossed them—and +there was Brant, her brother. Diplomacy was not for Johnny +McLean—he was much too anxious. +</p> + +<p> +"Brant, look here," and he drew him into a comparative corner. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is she?" Brant did not pretend not to understand, +but he grinned. +</p> + +<p> +"At the Andersons', of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Now?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I think so." +</p> + +<p> +"Fellows," said Johnny McLean, "I'm sorry, but I've got to sneak. +I'm going back to town." +</p> + +<p> +Sentences and scraps of sentences came flying at him from all over. +"Hold him down"—"Chain him up"—"Going—tommy-rot—can't go!" +"You'll be game for the roundup at eleven—you've got to be." +"Our darling boy—he's got to be," and more language. +</p> + +<p> +"All right for eleven," Johnny agreed. "I'll be at head-quarters +then—but I'm going now," and he went. +</p> + +<p> +He found her in a garden, which is the best place to make love. +Each place is the best. And in some mystical manner all the doubt +and unhappiness which had been gone over in labored volumes of +thoughts by each alone, melted to nothing, at two or three broken +sentences. There seemed to be nothing to say, for everything was +said in a wordless, clear mode of understanding, which lovers and +saints know. There was little plot to it, yet there was no lack +of interest. In fact so light-footed were the swift moments in the +rose-scented dark garden that Johnny McLean forgot, as others have +forgotten before him, that time was. He forgot that magnificent +lot of fellows, his classmates; there was not a circumstance +outside of the shadowy garden which he did not whole-heartedly +forget. Till a shock brought him to. +</p> + +<p> +The town was alive with bands and cheers and shouts and marching; +the distinct noises rose and fell and fused and separated, but kept +their distance. When one body of sound, which unnoticed by the +lovers had been growing less vague, more compact, broke all at +once into loud proximity—men marching, men shouting, men singing. +The two, hand tight in hand, started, looked at each other, +listened—and then a name came in a dozen sonorous voices, +as they used to shout it in college days, across the Berkeley Oval. +</p> + +<p> +"McLean! McLean!" they called. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Johnny McLean!" and "Come out there, oh, Johnny McLean!" +That was Baby Thomas. +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove, they've trapped me," he said, smiling in the dark and +holding the hand tighter as the swinging steps stopped in front +of the house of the garden. "Brant must have told." +</p> + +<p> +"They've certainly found you," the girl said. Her arms, +lifted slowly, went about his neck swiftly. "You're mine—but +you're theirs to-night. I haven't a right to so much of +you even. You're theirs. Go." And she held him. But in a +second she had pushed him away. "Go," she said. "You're +theirs, bless every one of them." +</p> + +<p> +She was standing alone in the dark, sweet garden and there was +a roar in the street which meant that he had opened the door +and they had seen him. And with that there were shouts of +"Put him up"—"Carry him"—"Carry the boy," and laughter and +shouting and then again the measured tread of many men retreating +down the street, and men's voices singing together. The girl +in the dark garden stood laughing, crying, and listened. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Mother of men!"—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +the deep voices sang— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Mother of men grown strong in giving—<br /> + Honor to him thy light have led;<br /> + Rich in the toil of thousands living,<br /> + Proud of the deeds of thousands dead!<br /> + We who have felt thy power, and known thee,<br /> + We in whose lives thy lights avail,<br /> + High, in our hearts enshrined, enthrone thee,<br /> + Mother of men, old Yale!"<br /> +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Courage of the Commonplace, by +Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + +***** This file should be named 5825-h.htm or 5825-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/8/2/5825/ + +Produced by the Literary Preservation Society of Lake Mary +High School, Lake Mary, FL. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + + +</pre> + +</body> + +</html> + + diff --git a/5825.txt b/5825.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcc3166 --- /dev/null +++ b/5825.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1532 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Courage of the Commonplace, by +Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: The Courage of the Commonplace + +Author: Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +Posting Date: October 19, 2014 [EBook #5825] +Release Date: June, 2004 +First Posted: September 10, 2002 +Last Updated: July 7, 2004 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + + + + +Produced by the Literary Preservation Society of Lake Mary +High School, Lake Mary, FL. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +The Courage of the Commonplace + +by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +The girl and her chaperon had been deposited early in the desirable +second-story window in Durfee, looking down on the tree. Brant was +a senior and a "Bones" man, and so had a leading part to play in +the afternoon's drama. He must get the girl and the chaperon +off his hands, and be at his business. This was "Tap Day." It is +perhaps well to explain what "Tap Day" means; there are people +who have not been at Yale or had sons or sweethearts there. + +In New Haven, on the last Thursday of May, toward five in the +afternoon, one becomes aware that the sea of boys which ripples +always over the little city has condensed into a river flowing +into the campus. There the flood divides and re-divides; the +junior class is separating and gathering from all directions +into a solid mass about the nucleus of a large, low-hanging oak +tree inside the college fence in front of Durfee Hall. The three +senior societies of Yale, Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, and +Wolf's Head, choose to-day fifteen members each from the junior +class, the fifteen members of the outgoing senior class making +the choice. Each senior is allotted his man of the juniors, and +must find him in the crowd at the tree and tap him on the shoulder +and give him the order to go to his room. Followed by his sponsor +he obeys and what happens at the room no one but the men of the +society know. With shining face the lad comes back later and is +slapped on the shoulder and told, "good work, old man," cordially +and whole-heartedly by every friend and acquaintance--by lads who +have "made" every honor possible, by lads who have "made" nothing, +just as heartily. For that is the spirit of Yale. + +Only juniors room in Durfee Hall. On Tap Day an outsider is lucky +who has a friend there, for a window is a proscenium box for +the play--the play which is a tragedy to all but forty-five of the +three hundred and odd juniors. The windows of every story of the +gray stone facade are crowded with a deeply interested audience; +grizzled heads of old graduates mix with flowery hats of women; +every one is watching every detail, every arrival. In front of +the Hall is a drive, and room for perhaps a dozen carriages next +the fence--the famous fence of Yale--which rails the campus round. +Just inside it, at the north-east corner, rises the tree. People +stand up in the carriages, women and men; the fence is loaded with +people, often standing, too, to see that tree. + +All over the campus surges a crowd; students of the other classes, +seniors who last year stood in the compact gathering at the tree +and left it sore-hearted, not having been "taken"; sophomores +who will stand there next year, who already are hoping for and +dreading their Tap Day; little freshmen, each one sure that he, +at least, will be of the elect; and again the iron-gray heads, +the interested faces of old Yale men, and the gay spring hats +like bouquets of flowers. + +It is, perhaps, the most critical single day of the four years' +course at the University. It shows to the world whether or no a boy, +after three years of college life, has in the eyes of the student +body "made good." It is a crucial test, a heart-rending test +for a boy of twenty years. + +The girl sitting in the window of Durfee understood thoroughly +the character and the chances of the day. The seniors at the tree +wear derby hats; the juniors none at all; it is easier by this sign +to distinguish the classmen, and to keep track of the tapping. +The girl knew of what society was each black-hatted man who twisted +through the bareheaded throng; in that sea of tense faces she +recognized many; she could find a familiar head almost anywhere +in the mass and tell as much as an outsider might what hope was +hovering over it. She came of Yale people; Brant, her brother, +would graduate this year; she was staying at the house of a Yale +professor; she was in the atmosphere. + +There, near the edge of the pack, was Bob Floyd, captain of +the crew, a fair, square face with quiet blue eyes, whose +tranquil gaze was characteristic. To-day it was not tranquil; +it flashed anxiously here and there, and the girl smiled. She knew +as certainly as if the fifteen seniors had told her that Floyd +would be "tapped for Bones." The crew captain and the foot-ball +captain are almost inevitably taken for Skull and Bones. Yet +five years before Jack Emmett, captain of the crew, had not +been taken; only two years back Bert Connolly, captain of the +foot-ball team, had not been taken. The girl, watching the big +chap's unconscious face, knew well what was in his mind. "What +chance have I against all these bully fellows," he was saying +to himself in his soul, "even if I do happen to be crew captain? +Connolly was a mutt--couldn't take him--but Jack Emmett--there +wasn't any reason to be seen for that. And it's just muscles +I've got--I'm not clever--I don't hit it off with the crowd--I've +done nothing for Yale, but just for the crew. Why the dickens +should they take me?" But the girl knew. + +The great height and refined, supercilious face of another boy +towered near--Lionel Arnold, a born litterateur, and an artist--he +looked more confident than most. It seemed to the girl he felt +sure of being taken; sure that his name and position and, more +than all, his developed, finished personality must count as much + as that. And the girl knew that in the direct, unsophisticated +judgments of the judges these things did not count at all. + +So she gunned over the swarm which gathered to the oak tree as +bees to a hive, able to tell often what was to happen. Even to +her young eyes all these anxious, upturned faces, watching +silently with throbbing pulses for this first vital decision +of their lives, was a stirring sight. + +"I can't bear it for the ones who aren't taken," she cried out, +and the chaperon did not smile. + +"I know," she said. "Each year I think I'll never come again--it's +too heart-rending. It means so much to them, and only +forty-five can go away happy. Numbers are just broken-hearted. +I don't like it--it's brutal." + +"Yes, but it's an incentive to the under-classmen--it holds them +to the mark and gives them ambition, doesn't it?" the girl +argued doubtfully. + +The older woman agreed. "I suppose on the whole it's a good +institution. And it's wonderful what wisdom the boys show. +Of course, they make mistakes, but on the whole they pick the +best men astonishingly. So many times they hit the ones who +come to be distinguished." + +"But so many times they don't," the girl followed her words. +Her father and Brant were Bones men--why was the girl arguing +against senior societies? "So many, Mrs. Anderson. Uncle Ted's +friend, the President of Hardrington College, was in Yale in +the '80's and made no senior society; Judge Marston of the +Supreme Court dined with us the other night--he didn't make +anything; Dr. Hamlin, who is certainly one of the great physicians +of the country, wasn't taken. I know a lot more. And look at +some who've made things. Look at my cousin, Gus Vanderpool--he +made Keys twenty years ago and has never done a thing since. +And that fat Mr. Hough, who's so rich and dull--he's Bones." + +"You've got statistics at your fingers' ends, haven't you?" said +Mrs. Anderson. "Anybody might think you had a brother among the +juniors who you weren't hopeful about." She looked at the girl +curiously. Then: "They must be about all there," she spoke, +leaning out. "A full fifty feet square of dear frightened laddies. +There's Brant, coming across the campus. He looks as if he was +going to make some one president. I suppose he feels so. There's +Johnny McLean. I hope he'll be taken--he's the nicest boy in the +whole junior class--but I'm afraid. He hasn't done anything +in particular." + +With that, a thrill caught the most callous of the hundreds of +spectators; a stillness fixed the shifting crowd; from the tower +of Battell chapel, close by, the college bell clanged the stroke +of five; before it stopped striking the first two juniors +would be tapped. + +The dominating, unhurried note rang, echoed, and began to +die away as they saw Brant's hand fall on Bob Floyd's shoulder. +The crew captain whirled and leaped, unseeing, through the crowd. +A great shout rose; all over the campus the people surged like +a wind-driven wave toward the two rushing figures, and everywhere +some one cried, "Floyd has gone Bones!" and the exciting business +had begun. + +One looks at the smooth faces of boys of twenty and wonders what +the sculptor Life is going to make of them. Those who have known +his work know what sharp tools are in his kit; they know the tragic +possibilities as well as the happy ones of those inevitable strokes; +they shrink a bit as they look at the smooth faces of the boys +and realize how that clay must be moulded in the workshop--how +the strong lines which ought to be there some day must come from +the cutting of pain and the grinding of care and the push and +weight of responsibility. Yet there is service and love, too, +and happiness and the slippery bright blade of success in the +kit of Life the sculptor; so they stand and watch, a bit pitifully +but hopefully, as the work begins, and cannot guide the chisel +but a little way, yet would not, if they could, stop it, for the +finished job is going to be, they trust, a man, and only the +sculptor Life can make such. + +The boy called Johnny McLean glanced up at the window in Durfee; +he met the girl's eyes, and the girl smiled back and made a gay +motion with her hand as if to say, "Keep up your pluck; you'll +be taken." And wished she felt sure of it. For, as Mrs. Anderson +had said, he had done nothing in particular. His marks were good, +he was a fair athlete; good at rowing, good at track work; he had +"heeled" the News for a year, but had not made the board. A gift of +music, which bubbled without effort, had put him on the Glee Club. +Yet that had come to him; it was not a thing he had done; boys +are critical of such distinctions. It is said that Skull and Bones +aims at setting its seal above all else on character. This boy had +sailed buoyantly from term to term delighted with the honors which +came to his friends, friends with the men who carried off honors, +with the best and strongest men in his class, yet never quite +arriving for himself. As the bright, anxious young face looked up +at the window where the women sat, the older one thought she could +read the future in it, and she sighed. It was a face which +attracted, broad-browed, clear-eyed, and honest, but not a strong +face--yet. John McLean had only made beginnings; he had accomplished +nothing. Mrs. Anderson, out of an older experience, sighed, because +she had seen just such winning, lovable boys before, and had seen +them grow into saddened, unsuccessful men. Yet he was full of +possibility; the girl was hoping against hope that Brant and the +fourteen other seniors of Skull and Bones would see it so and take +him on that promise. She was not pretending to herself that anything +but Johnny McLean's fate in it was the point of this Tap Day to her. +She was very young, only twenty also, but there was a maturity in +her to which the boy made an appeal. She felt a strength which +others missed; she wanted him to find it; she wanted passionately +to see him take his place where she felt he belonged, with the men +who counted. + +The play was in full action. Grave and responsible seniors worked +swiftly here and there through the tight mass, searching each one +his man; every two or three minutes a man was found and felt that +thrilling touch and heard the order, "Go to your room." Each time +there was a shout of applause; each time the campus rushed in +a wave. And still the three hundred stood packed, waiting--thinning +a little, but so little. About thirty had been taken now, +and the black senior hats were visibly fewer, but the upturned boy +faces seemed exactly the same. Only they grew more anxious minute +by minute; minute by minute they turned more nervously this way +and that as the seniors worked through the mass. And as another +and another crashed from among them blind and solemn and happy +with his guardian senior close after, the ones who were left seemed +to drop into deeper quiet. And now there were only two black hats +in the throng; the girl looking down saw John McLean standing +stiffly, his gray eyes fixed, his face pale and set; at that +moment the two seniors found their men together. It was all over. +He had not been taken. + +Slowly the two hundred and fifty odd men who had not been good +enough dispersed, pluckily laughing and talking together--all +of them, it is safe to say, with heavy hearts; for Tap Day +counts as much as that at Yale. + +John McLean swung across the diagonal of the campus toward +Welch Hall where he lived. He saw the girl and her chaperon +come out of Durfee; and he lingered to meet them. Two days ago +he had met the girl here with Brant, and she had stopped and +shaken hands. It seemed to him it would help if that should +happen today. She might say a word; anything at all to show that +she was friends all the same with a fellow who wasn't good enough. +He longed for that. With a sick chaos of pain pounding at what +seemed to be his lungs he met her. Mrs. Anderson was between +them, putting out a quick hand; the boy hardly saw her as he +took it. He saw the girl, and the girl did not look at him. +With her head up and her brown eyes fixed on Phelps gate-way she +hurried along--and did not look at him. He could not believe +it--that girl--the girl. But she was gone; she had not looked at him. +Like a shot animal he suddenly began to run. He got to his rooms; +they were empty; Baby Thomas, his "wife," known as Archibald +Babington Thomas on the catalogue, but not elsewhere, had been +taken for Scroll and Key; he was off with the others who were +worth while. This boy went into his tiny bedroom and threw +himself down with his face in his pillow and lay still. Men +and women learn--sometimes--as they grow older, how to shut +the doors against disappointments so that only the vital ones +cut through, but at twenty all doors are open; the iron had come +into his soul, and the girl had given it a twist which had taken +his last ounce of courage. He lay still a long time, enduring--all +he could manage at first. It might have been an hour later +that he got up and went to his desk and sat down in the fading +light, his hands deep in his trousers pockets; his athletic young +figure dropped together listlessly; his eyes staring at the desk +where had worked away so many cheerful hours. Pictures hung +around it; there was a group taken last summer of girls and boys +at his home in the country, the girl was in it--he did not look +at her. His father's portrait stood on the desk, and a painting +of his long-dead mother. He thought to himself hotly that it was +good she was dead rather than see him shamed. For the wound was +throbbing with a fever, and the boy had not got to a sense of +proportion; his future seemed blackened. His father's picture +stabbed him; he was a "Bones" man--all of his family--his +grandfather, and the older brothers who had graduated four and +six years ago--all of them. Except himself. The girl had thought +it such a disgrace that she would not look at him! Then he grew +angry. It wasn't decent, to hit a man when he was down. A woman +ought to be gentle--if his mother had been alive--but then he +was glad she wasn't. With that a sob shook him--startled him. +Angrily he stood up and glared about the place. This wouldn't do; +he must pull himself together. He walked up and down the little +living room, bright with boys' belongings, with fraternity shields +and flags and fencing foils and paddles and pictures; he walked +up and down and he whistled "Dunderbeck," which somehow was in +his head. Then he was singing it: + +"Oh Dunderbeck, Oh Dunderbeck, how could you be so mean +As even to have thought of such a terrible machine! +For bob-tailed rats and pussy-cats shall never more be seen; +They'll all be ground to sausage-meat in Dunderbeck's machine." + +There are times when Camembert cheese is a steadying thing to +think of--or golf balls. "Dunderbeck" answered for John McLean. +It appeared difficult to sing, however--he harked back to +whistling. Then the clear piping broke suddenly. He bit his +lower lip and went and sat down before the desk again and turned +on the electric reading-lamp. Now he had given in long enough; +now he must face the situation; now was the time to find if +there was any backbone in him to "buck up." To fool those chaps +by amounting to something. There was good stuff in this boy that +he applied this caustic and not a salve. His buoyant +lightheartedness whispered that the fellows made mistakes; +that he was only one of many good chaps left; that Dick Harding +had a pull and Jim Stanton had an older brother--excuses came. +But the boy checked them. + +"That's not the point; I didn't make it; I didn't deserve it; +I've been easy on myself; I've got to change; so some day my +people won't be ashamed of me--maybe." Slowly, painfully, +he fought his way to a tentative self-respect. He might not +ever be anything big, a power as his father was, but he could +be a hard worker, he could make a place. A few days before a +famous speaker had given an address on an ethical subject at +Yale. A sentence of it came to the boy's struggling mind. +"The courage of the commonplace is greater than the courage +of the crisis," the orator had said. That was his chance--"the +courage of the commonplace." No fireworks for him, perhaps, +ever, but, by Jove, work and will could do a lot, and he could +prove himself worthy. + +"I'm not through yet, but ginger," he said out loud. "I can do +my best anyhow and I'll show if I'm not fit"--the energetic tone +trailed off--he was only a boy of twenty--"not fit to be looked +at," he finished brokenly. + +It came to him in a vague, comforting way that probably the best +game a man could play with his life would be to use it as a tool +to do work with; to keep it at its brightest, cleanest, most +efficient for the sake of the work. This boy, of no phenomenal +sort, had one marked quality--when he had made a decision he +acted on it. Tonight through the soreness of a bitter +disappointment he put his finger on the highest note of his +character and resolved. All unknown to himself it was a crisis. + +It was long past dinner-time, but he dashed out now and got food, +and when Baby Thomas came in he found his room-mate sleepy, but +quite himself; quite steady in his congratulations as well as +normal in his abuse for "keeping a decent white man awake to +this hour." + +Three years later the boy graduated from the Boston "Tech." +As his class poured from Huntington Hall, he saw his father +waiting for him. He noted with pride, as he always did, the tall +figure, topped with a wonderful head--a mane of gray hair, +a face carved in iron, squared and cut down to the marrow of +brains and force--a man to be seen in any crowd. With that, +as his own met the keen eyes behind the spectacles, he was aware +of a look which startled him. The boy had graduated at the very +head of his class; that light in his father's eyes all at once +made two years of work a small thing. + +"I didn't know you were coming, sir. That's mighty nice of you," +he said, as they walked down Boylston Street together, and his +father waited a moment and then spoke in his usual incisive tone. + +"I wouldn't have liked to miss it, Johnny," he said. "I don't +remember that anything in my life has ever made me as satisfied +as you have to-day." + +With a gasp of astonishment the young man looked at him, looked +away, looked at the tops of the houses, and did not find a word +anywhere. His father had never spoken to him so; never before, +perhaps, had he said anything as intimate to any of his sons. +They knew that the cold manner of the great engineer covered +depths, but they never expected to see the depths uncovered. +But here he was, talking of what he felt, of character, and +honor and effort. + +"I've appreciated what you've been doing," the even voice went on. +"I talk little about personal affairs. But I'm not uninterested; +I watch. I was anxious about you. You were a more uncertain +quantity than Ted and Harry. Your first three years at Yale +were not satisfactory. I was afraid you lacked manliness. +Then came--a disappointment. It was a blow to us--to family +pride. I watched you more closely, and I saw before that year +ended that you were taking your medicine rightly. I wanted to +tell you of my contentment, but being slow of speech I--couldn't. +So"--the iron face broke for a second into a whimsical grin--"so +I offered you a motor. And you wouldn't take it. I knew, +though you didn't explain, that you feared it would interfere +with your studies. I was right?" Johnny nodded. "Yes. And your +last year at college was--was all I could wish. I see now that +you needed a blow in the face to wake you up--and you got it. +And you waked." The great engineer smiled with clean pleasure. +"I have had"--he hesitated--"I have had always a feeling of +responsibility to your mother for you--more than for the others. +You were so young when she died that you seem more her child. +I was afraid I had not treated you well--that it was my fault +if you failed." The boy made a gesture--he could not very well +speak. His father went on: "So when you refused the motor, when +you went into engineer's camp that first summer instead of going +abroad, I was pleased. Your course here has been a satisfaction, +without a drawback--keener, certainly, because I am an engineer, +and could appreciate, step by step, how well you were doing, how +much you were giving up to do it, how much power you were gaining +by that long sacrifice. I've respected you through these years of +commonplace, and I've known how much more courage it meant in a +pleasure-loving lad such as you than it would have meant in a +serious person such as I am--such as Ted and Harry are, to an +extent, also." The older man, proud and strong and reserved, +turned on his son such a shining face as the boy had never seen. +"That boyish failure isn't wiped out, Johnny, for I shall remember +it as the corner-stone of your career, already built over with +an honorable record. You've made good. I congratulate you and +I honor you." + +The boy never knew how he got home. He knocked his shins badly +on a quite visible railing and it was out of the question to +say a single word. But if he staggered it was with an overload +of happiness, and if he was speechless and blind the stricken +faculties were paralyzed with joy. His father walked beside +him and they understood each other. He reeled up the streets +contented. + +That night there was a family dinner, and with the coffee his +father turned and ordered fresh champagne opened. + +"We must have a new explosion to drink to the new superintendent +of the Oriel mine," he said. Johnny looked at him surprised, +and then at the others, and the faces were bright with the same +look of something which they knew and he did not. + +"What's up?" asked Johnny. "Who's the superintendent of the +Oriel mine? Why do we drink to him? What are you all grinning +about, anyway?" The cork flew up to the ceiling, and the butler +poured gold bubbles into the glasses, all but his own. + +"Can't I drink to the beggar, too, whoever he is?" asked Johnny, +and moved his glass and glanced up at Mullins. But his father was +beaming at Mullins in a most unusual way and Johnny got no wine. +With that Ted, the oldest brother, pushed back his chair and +stood and lifted his glass. + +"We'll drink," he said, and bowed formally to Johnny, "to the +gentleman who is covering us all with glory, to the new +superintendent of the Oriel mine, Mr. John Archer McLean," +and they stood and drank the toast. Johnny, more or less dizzy, +more or less scarlet, crammed his hands in his pockets and +started and turned redder, and brought out interrogations in +the nervous English which is acquired at our great institutions +of learning. + +"Gosh! are you all gone dotty?" he asked. And "Is this a merry +jape?" And "Why, for cat's sake, can't you tell a fellow what's +up your sleeve?" While the family sipped champagne and regarded him. + +"Now, if I've squirmed for you enough, I wish you'd explain--father, +tell me!" the boy begged. + +And the tale was told by the family, in chorus, without politeness, +interrupting freely. It seemed that the president of the big mine +needed a superintendent, and wishing young blood and the latest +ideas had written to the head of the Mining Department in the +School of Technology to ask if he would give him the name of the +ablest man in the graduating class--a man to be relied on for +character as much as brains, he specified, for the rough army of +miners needed a general at their head almost more than a scientist. +Was there such a combination to be found, he asked, in a youngster +of twenty-three or twenty-four, such as would be graduating from +the "Tech"? If possible, he wanted a very young man--he wanted the +enthusiasm, he wanted the athletic tendency, he wanted the +plus-strength, he wanted the unmade reputation which would look +for its making to hard work in the mine. The letter was produced +and read to the shamefaced Johnny. "Gosh!" he remarked at intervals +and remarked practically nothing else. There was no need. They were +so proud and so glad that it was almost too much for the boy who +had been a failure three years ago. + +On the urgent insistence of every one he made a speech. He got +to his six-feet-two slowly, and his hands went into his trousers +pockets as usual. "Holy mackerel," he began--"I don't call it +decent to knock the wind out of a man and then hold him up for +remarks. They all said in college that I talked the darnedest +hash in the class, anyway. But you will have it, will you? I +haven't got anything to say, so's you'd notice it, except that +I'll be blamed if I see how this is true. Of course I'm keen +for it--Keen! I should say I was! And what makes me keenest, +I believe, is that I know it's satisfactory to Henry McLean." +He turned his bright face to his father. "Any little plugging +I've done seems like thirty cents compared to that. You're all +peaches to take such an interest, and I thank you a lot. Me, +the superintendent of the Oriel mine! Holy mackerel!" gasped +Johnny, and sat down. + +The proportion of fighting in the battle of life outweighs the +"beer and skittles"; as does the interest. Johnny McLean found +interest in masses, in the drab-and-dun village on the prairie. +He found pleasure, too, and as far as he could reach he tried to +share it; buoyancy and generosity were born in him; strenuousness +he had painfully acquired, and like most converts was a fanatic +about it. He was splendidly fit; he was the best and last output + of the best institution in the country; he went at his work +like a joyful locomotive. Yet more goes to explain what he was +and what he did. He developed a faculty for leading men. The +cold bath of failure, the fire of success had tempered the young +steel of him to an excellent quality; bright and sharp, it cut +cobwebs in the Oriel mine where cobwebs had been thickening for +months. The boy, normal enough, quite unphenomenal, was growing +strong by virtue of his one strong quality: he did what he +resolved to do. For such a character to make a vital decision +rightly is a career. On the night of the Tap Day which had so +shaken him, he had struck the key-note. He had resolved to use +his life as if it were a tool in his hand to do work, and he +had so used it. The habit of bigness, once caught, possesses one +as quickly as the habit of drink; Johnny McLean was as unhampered +by the net of smallnesses which tangle most of us as a hermit; +the freedom gave him a power which was fast making a marked man +of him. + +There was dissatisfaction among the miners; a strike was probable; +the popularity of the new superintendent warded it off from month +to month, which counted unto him for righteousness in the mind +of the president, of which Johnny himself was unaware. Yet the +cobwebs grew; there was an element not reached by, resentful of, +the atmosphere of Johnny's friendliness--"Terence O'Hara's gang." +By the old road of music he had found his way to the hearts of +many. There were good voices among the thousand odd workmen, +and Johnny McLean could not well live without music. He heard +Dennis Mulligan's lovely baritone and Jack Dennison's rolling +bass, as they sang at work in the dim tunnels of the coal-mine, +and it seemed quite simple to him that they and he and others +should meet when work hours were over and do some singing. +Soon it was a club--then a big club; it kept men out of saloons, +which Johnny was glad of, but had not planned. A small kindliness +seems often to be watered and fertilized by magic. Johnny's +music-club grew to be a spell to quiet wild beasts. Yet Terence +O'Hara and his gang had a strong hold; there was storm in the air +and the distant thunder was heard almost continually. + +Johnny, as he swung up the main street of the flat little town, +the brick school-house and the two churches at one end, many +saloons en route, and the gray rock dump and the chimneys and +shaft-towers of the mine at the other, carried a ribbon of +brightness through the sordid place. Women came to the doors to +smile at the handsome young gentleman who took his hat off as if +they were ladies; children ran by his side, and he knocked their +caps over their eyes and talked nonsense to them, and swung on +whistling. But at night, alone in his room, he was serious. +How to keep the men patient; how to use his influence with them; +how to advise the president--for young as he was he had to do +this because of the hold he had gained on the situation; what +concessions were wise--the young face fell into grave lines as +he sat, hands deep in his pockets as usual, and considered these +questions. Already the sculptor Life was chiselling away the +easy curves with the tool of responsibility. + +He thought of other things sometimes as he sat before the wood fire +in his old Morris chair. His college desk was in the corner by the +window, and around it hung photographs ordered much as they had +been in New Haven. The portrait of his father on the desk, the +painting of his mother, and above them, among the boys' faces, +the group of boys and girls of whom she was one, the girl whom +he had not forgotten. He had not seen her since that Tap Day. +She had written him soon after--an invitation for a week-end at +her mother's camp in the woods. But he would not go. He sat +in the big chair staring at the fire, this small room in the West, +and thought about it. No, he could not have gone to her house +party--how could he? He had thought, poor lunatic, that there +was an unspoken word between them; that she was different to him +from what she was to the others. Then she had failed him at the +moment of need. He would not be taken back half-way, with the +crowd. He could not. So he had civilly ignored the hand which +had held out several times, in several ways. Hurt and proud, +yet without conceit, he believed that she kept him at a distance, +and would not risk coming too near, and so stayed altogether away. +It happens at times that a big, attractive, self-possessed man +is secretly as shy, as fanciful, as the shyest girl--if he cares. +Once and again indeed the idea flashed into the mind of Johnny +McLean--that perhaps she had been so sorry that she did not dare +look at him. But he flung that aside with a savage half-thought. + +"What rot! It's probable that I was important enough for that, +isn't it? You fool!" And about then he was likely to get up with +a spring and attack a new book on pillar and shaft versus the block +system of mining coal. + +The busy days went on, and the work grew more absorbing, the +atmosphere more charged with an electricity which foretold +tempest. The president knew that the personality of the young +superintendent almost alone held the electricity in solution +that for months he and his little musical club and his large +popularity had kept off the strike. Till at last a day came +in early May. + +We sit at the ends of the earth and sew on buttons and play cards +while fate wipes from existence the thing dearest to us. Johnny's +father that afternoon mounted his new saddle-horse and rode +through the afternoon lights and shadows of spring. The girl, +who had not forgotten, either, went to a luncheon and the theatre +after. And it was not till next morning that Brant, her brother, +called to her, as she went upstairs after breakfast, in a voice +which brought her running back. He had a paper in his hand, +and he held it to her. + +"What is it, Brant? Something bad?" + +"Yes," he said, breathing fast. "Awful. It's going to make +you feel badly, for you liked him--poor old Johnny McLean." + +"Johnny McLean?" she repeated. Brant went on. + +"Yesterday--a mine accident. He went down after the entombed men. +Not a chance." Brant's mouth worked. "He died--like a hero--you +know." The girl stared. + +"Died? Is Johnny McLean dead?" + +She did fall down, or cry out, but then Brant knew. Swiftly he +came up and put his big, brotherly arm around her. + +"Wait, my dear," he said. "There's a ray of hope. Not really +hope, you know--it was certain death he went to--but yet they +haven't found--they don't know, absolutely, that he's dead." + +Five minutes later the girl was locked in her room with the paper. +His name was in large letters in the head-lines. She read the +account over many times, with painstaking effort to understand +that this meant Johnny McLean. That he was down there now, while +she breathed pure air. Many times she read it, dazed. Suddenly +she flashed to the window and threw it open and beat on the stone +sill and dragged her hands across it. Then in a turn she felt +this to be worse than useless and dropped on her knees and found +out what prayer is. She read the paper again, then, and faced +things. + +It was the oft-repeated, incredible story of men so accustomed to +danger that they throw away their lives in sheer carelessness. +A fire down in the third level, five hundred feet underground; +delay in putting it out; shifting of responsibility of one to +another, mistakes and stupidity; then the sudden discovering +that they were all but cut off; the panic and the crowding for +the shaft, and scenes of terror and selfishness and heroism +down in the darkness and smothering smoke. + +The newspaper story told how McLean, the young superintendent, +had come running down the street, bare-headed, with his light, +great pace of an athlete. How, just as he got there, the cage +of six men, which had gone to the third level, had been drawn +up after vague, wild signalling, filled with six corpses. +How, when the crowd had seen that he meant to go down, a storm +of appeal had broken that he should not throw his life away; +how the very women whose husbands and sons were below had clung +to him. Then the paper told of how he had turned at the mouth +of the shaft--the girl could see him standing there tall and broad, +with the light on his boyish blond head. He had snatched a +paper from his pocket and waved it at arm's-length so that everyone +could see. The map of the mine. Gallery 57, on the second level, +where the men now below had been working, was close to gallery 9, +entered from the other shaft a quarter of a mile away. The two +galleries did not communicate, but only six feet of earth divided +them. The men might chop through to 9 and reach the other shaft +and be saved. But the men did not know it. He explained shortly +that he must get to them and tell them. He would go to the second +level and with an oxygen helmet would reach possible air before +he was caught. Quickly, with an unhesitating decision, he talked, +and his buoyancy put courage in to the stricken crowd. With that +a woman's voice lifted. + +"Don't go--don't ye go, darlin'," it screamed. "'Tis no frinds +down there. 'Tis Terence O'Hara and his gang--'tis the +strike-makers. Don't be throwin' away your sweet young life +for thim." + +The boy laughed. "That's all right. Terence has a right to +his chance." He went on rapidly. "I want five volunteers--quick. +A one-man chance isn't enough to take help. Quick--five." + +And twenty men pushed to the boy to follow him into hell. +Swiftly he picked five; they put on the heavy oxygen helmets; +there was a deep silence as the six stepped into the cage and +McLean rang the bell that signaled the engineer to let them down. +That was all. They were the last rescuers to go down, and the +cage had been drawn up empty. That was all, the newspaper said. +The girl read it. All! And his father racing across the +continent, to stand with the shawled women at the head of the +shaft. And she, in the far-off city, going though the motions +of living. + +The papers told of the crowds gathering, of the Red Cross, +of the experts come to consider the situation, of the line +of patient women, with shawls over their heads, waiting always, +there at the first gray light, there when night fell; the girl, +gasping at her window, would have given years of her life to +have stood with those women. The second day she read that +they had closed the mouth of the shaft; it was considered that +the one chance for life below lay in smothering the flames. +When the girl read that, a madness came on her. The shawled +women felt that same madness; if the inspectors and the company +officials had insisted they could not have kept the mine closed +long--the people would have opened it by force; it was felt +unendurable to seal their men below; the shaft was unsealed in +twenty-four hours. But the smoke came out, and then the watchers +realized that a wall of flame was worse than a wall of planks +and sand, and the shaft was closed again. + +For days there was no news; then the first fruitless descent; +then men went down and brought up heavy shapes rolled in canvas +and bore them to the women; and "each morning the Red Cross +president, lifting the curtain of the car where he slept, would +see at first light the still rows of those muffled figures +waiting in the hopeless daybreak." Not yet had the body of the +young superintendent been found; yet one might not hope because +of that. But when one afternoon the head-lines of the papers +blazed with a huge "Rescued," she could not read it, and she knew +that she had hoped. + +It was true. Eighteen men had been brought up alive, and Johnny +McLean was one. Johnny McLean carried out senseless, with an +arm broken, with a gash in his forehead done by a falling beam +as he crawled to hail the rescuers--but Johnny McLean alive. +He was very ill, yet the girl had not a minute's doubt that +he would get well. + +And while he lay unconscious, the papers of the country rang +with the story of what he had done, and his father sitting +by his bed read it, through unashamed tears, but Johnny took +no interest. Breathing satisfied him pretty well for a while. +There is no need to tell over what the papers told--how he had +taken the leadership of the demoralized band; how when he found +them cut off from the escape which he had planned he had set +them to work building a barrier across a passage where the air +was fresher; how behind this barrier they had lived for six days, +by the faith and courage of Johnny McLean. How he had kept them +busy playing games, telling stories; had taught them music and +put heart into them to sing glees, down in their tomb; how he had + stood guard over the pitiful supply of water which dripped from +the rock walls, and found ways of saving every drop and made +each man take his turn; how when Tom Steele went mad and tried +to break out of the barrier on the fifth day, it was McLean who +fought him and kept him from the act which would have let in the +black damp to kill all of them; how it was the fall in the +slippery darkness of that struggle which had broken his arm. +The eighteen told the story, but by bit, as the men grew strong +enough to talk, and the record rounded out, of life and reason +saved by a boy who had risen out of the gray of commonplace +into the red light of heroism. The men who came out of that +burial spoke afterward of McLean as of an inspired being. + +At all events the strike question was settled in that week below, +and Johnny McLean held the ringleaders now in the hollow of his +hand. Terence O'Hara opened his eyes and delivered a dictum two +hours after he was carried home. "Tell thim byes," he growled +in weak jerks, "that if any wan of thim says shtrike till that +McLean child drops the hat, they'll fight--O'Hara." + +Day after day, while the country was in an uproar of enthusiasm, +Johnny lay unconscious, breathing, and doing no more. And large +engineering affairs were allowed to go and rack and ruin while +Henry McLean watched his son. + +On a hot morning such as comes in May, a veteran fly of the year +before buzzed about the dim window of the sick-room and banged +against the half-closed shutters. Half-conscious of the sound +the boy's father read near it, when another sound made his pulse +jump. + +"Chase him out," came from the bed in a weak, cheerful voice. +"Don't want any more things shut up for a spell." + +An hour later the older man stood over the boy. "Do you know +your next job, Johnny?" he said. "You've got to get well in +three weeks. Your triennial in New Haven is then." + +"Holy--mackerel!" exploded the feeble tones. "All right, Henry, +I'll do it." + + +* * * + + +Somewhere in the last days of June, New England is at its +loveliest and it is commencement time at Yale. Under the tall +elms stretch the shady streets, alive eternally with the +ever-new youth of ever-coming hundreds of boys. But at +commencement the pleasant, drowsy ways take on an astonishing +character; it is as if the little city had gone joyfully mad. +Hordes of men of all ages, in startling clothes, appear in all +quarters. Under Phelps Gate-way one meets pirates with long hair, +with ear-rings, with red sashes; crossing the campus comes a band +of Highlanders, in front of the New Haven House are stray +Dutchmen and Japanese and Punchinellos and other flotsam not +expected in a decorous town; down College Street a group of +men in gowns of white swing away through the dappled shadows. + +The atmosphere is enchanted; it is full of greetings and reunions +and new beginnings and of old friendship; with the every-day +clothes the boys of old have shed responsibilities and dignities +and are once more irresponsibly the boys of old. From California +and Florida, even from China and France, they come swarming into +the Puritan place, while in and out through the light-hearted +kaleidoscopic crowd hurry slim youngsters in floating black gown +and scholar's cap--the text of all this celebration, the +graduating class. Because of them it is commencement, it is +they who step now over the threshold and carry Yale's honor in +their young hands into the world. But small attention do they get, +the graduating class, at commencement. The classic note of their +grave youthfulness is drowned in the joyful uproar; in the clamor +of a thousand greetings one does not listen to these voices which +say farewell. From the nucleus of these busy, black-clad young +fellows, the folds of their gowns billowing about light, strong +figures, the stern lines of the Oxford cap graciously at odds +with the fresh modelling of their faces--down from these lads +in black, the largest class of all, taper the classes,--fewer, +grayer, as the date is older, till a placard on a tree in the +campus tells that the class of '51, it may be, has its +head-quarters at such a place; a handful of men with white hair +are lunching together--and that is a reunion. + +In the afternoon of commencement day there is a base-ball game at +Yale Field. To that the returning classes go in costume, mostly +marching out afoot, each with its band of music, through the gay, +dusty street, by the side of the gay, dusty street, by the side +of the gay, crowded trolley-cars loaded to the last inch of the +last step with a holiday crowd, good-natured, sympathetic, full +of humor as an American crowd is always. The men march laughing, +talking, nodding to friends in the cars, in the motors, in the +carriages which fly past them; the bands play; the houses are +faced with people come to see the show. + +The amphitheatre of Yale Field is packed with more than ten +thousand. The seniors are there with their mothers and fathers, +their pretty little sisters and their proud little brothers--the +flower of the country. One looks about and sees everywhere +high-bred faces, strong faces, open-eyed, drinking in this +extraordinary scene. For there is nothing just like it elsewhere. +Across the field where hundreds of automobiles and carriages are +drawn close--beyond that is a gate-way, and through this, at +three o'clock or so, comes pouring a rainbow. A gigantic, +light-filled, motion-swept rainbow of men. The first rays +of vivid color resolve into a hundred Japanese geishas; they +come dancing, waving paper umbrellas down Yale Field; on their +heels press Dutch kiddie, wooden-shod, in scarlet and white, +with wigs of peroxide hair. Then sailors, some of them twirling +oars--the famous victorious crew of fifteen years back; with +these march a dozen lads from fourteen to eight, the sons of +the class, sailor-clad too; up from their midst as they reach +the centre of the field drifts a flight of blue balloons of all +sizes. Then come the men of twenty years ago stately in white +gowns and mortar-boards; then the Triennials, with a class boy +of two years, costumed in miniature and trundled in a go-cart +by a nervous father. The Highlanders stalk by to the skirl of +bagpipes with their contingent of tall boys, the coming sons +of Alma Mater. The thirty-five-year graduates, eighty strong, +the men who are handling the nation, wear a unanimous sudden +growth of rolling gray beard. Class after class they come, +till over a thousand men have marched out to the music of bands, +down Yale Field and past the great circle of the seats, and +have settled in brilliant masses of color on the "bleachers." +Then from across the field rise men's voices singing. They +sing the college songs which their fathers sang, which their +sons and great-grandsons will sing. The rhythm rolls forward +steadily in all those deep voices: + +"Nor time nor change can aught avail," the words come, + +"To break the friendships formed at Yale." + +There is many a breath caught in the crowded multitude to hear +the men sing that. + +Then the game--and Yale wins. The classes pour on the field in +a stormy sea of color, and dance quadrilles, and form long lines +hand in hand which sway and cross and play fantastically in a +dizzying, tremendous jubilation which fills all of Yale Field. +The people standing up to go cannot go, but stay and watch them, +these thousand children of many ages, this marvellous show of +light-heartedness and loyalty. Till at last the costumes drift +together in platoons and disappear slowly; and the crowd thins +and the last and most stirring act of the commencement-day drama +is at hand. + +It has come to be an institution that after the game the old +graduates should go, class by class, to the house of the president +of Yale, to renew allegiance. It has come to be an institution +that he, standing on the steps of his house, should make a short +speech to each class. The rainbow of men, sweeping gloriously +down the city streets with their bands, dissolves into a whirlwind +at the sight of that well-known, slight, dignified figure on the +doorstep of the modest house--this is a thing which one who has +seen it does not forget; the three-minute speeches, each apt to +its audience, each pointed with a dart straight to the heart of +class pride and sentiment, these are a marvel. Few men living +could come out of a such a test creditably; only this master of +men and of boys could do it as he does. For each class goes away +confident that the president at least shares its conviction that +it is the best class ever graduated. Life might well be worth +living, it would seem, to a man who should hear every year hundreds +of men's voices thundering his name as these men behind the class +banners. + +Six weeks after the disaster of the Oriel mine it was commencement +day in New Haven and Johnny McLean, his broken arm in a sling, +a square of adhesive plaster on his forehead, was back for his +Triennial. He was mightily astonished at the greeting he got. +Classmates came up to him and shook his hand and said half a +sentence and stopped, with an arm around his shoulder; people +treated him in a remarkable way, as if he had done something +unheard of. + +It gratified him, after a fashion, yet it more than half annoyed +him. He mentioned over and over again in protest that he had done +nothing which "every one of you fellows wouldn't have done just +the same," but they laughed at that and stood staring in a most +embarrassing way. + +"Gosh, Johnny McLean," Tim Erwin remarked finally, "wake up and +hear the birdies sing. Do you mean to tell me you don't know +you're the hero of the whole blamed nation?" + +And Johnny McLean turned scarlet and replied that he didn't think +it so particularly funny to guy a man who had attended strictly +to his business, and walked off. While Erwin and the others +regarded him astounded. + +"Well, if that isn't too much!" gasped Tim. "He actually doesn't know!" + +"He's likely to find out before we get through," Neddy Haines, +of Denver, jerked out nasally and they laughed as if at a secret +known together. + +So Johnny pursued his way through the two or three days before +commencement, absorbed in meeting friends, embarrassed at times +by their manner, but taking obstinately the modest place in the +class which he had filled in college. It did not enter his mind +that anything he had done could alter his standing with the +"fellows." Moreover, he did not spend time considering that. +So he was one of two hundred Buster Browns who marched to Yale Field +in white Russian blouses with shiny blue belts, in sailor hats +with blue ribbons, and when the Triennials rushed tempestuously +down Trumbull Street in the tracks of the gray-beards of thirty-five +years before, Johnny found himself carried forward so that he +stood close to the iron fence which guards the little yard from +the street. There is always an afternoon tea at the president's +house after the game, to let people see the classes make their +call on the head of the University. The house was full of people; +the yard was filled with gay dresses and men gathered to see the +parade. + +On the high stone steps under the arch of the doorway stood the +president and close by him the white, light figure of a little +girl, her black hair tied with a big blue bow. Clustered in the +shadow behind them were other figures. Johnny McLean saw the +little maid and then his gaze was riveted on the president. +It surely was good to see him again; this man who knew how to +make them all swear by him. + +"What will he have to say to us," Johnny wondered. "Something +that will please the whole bunch, I'll bet. He always hits it." + +"Men of the class of --," the president began, in his deep, +characteristic intonations, "I know that there is only one name +you want to hear me speak; only one thought in all the minds +of your class." + +A hoarse murmur which a second's growth would have made into a +wild shout started in the throats of the massed men behind the +class banner. The president held up his hand. + +"Wait a minute. We want that cheer; we'll have it; but I've got +a word first. A great speaker who talked to you boys in your +college course said a thing that came to my mind to-day. +'The courage of the commonplace,' he said, 'is greater than the +courage of the crisis.'" + +Again that throaty, threatening growl, and again the president's +hand went up--the boys were hard to hold. + +"I see a man among you whose life has added a line to that saying, +who has shown to the world that it is the courage of the commonplace +which trains for the courage of the crisis. And that's all I've got +to say, for the nation is saying the rest--except three times three +for the glory of the class of --, the newest name on the honor roll +of Yale, McLean of the Oriel mine." + +It is probably a dizzying thing to be snatched into the seventh +heaven. Johnny McLean standing, scarlet, stunned, his eyes glued +on the iron fence between him and the president, knew nothing +except a whirling of his brain and an earnest prayer that he might +not make a fool of himself. With that, even as the thunder of +voices began, he felt himself lifted, swung to men's shoulders, +carried forward. And there he sat in his foolish Buster Brown +costume, with his broken arm in its sling, with the white patch +on his forehead, above his roaring classmates. There he sat +perspiring and ashamed, and faced the head of the University, who, +it must be said, appeared not to miss the humor of the situation, +for he laughed consumedly. And still they cheered and still his +name rang again and again. Johnny, hot and squirming under the +merry presidential eye, wondered if they were going to cheer +all night. And suddenly everything--class-mates, president, +roaring voices--died away. There was just one thing on earth. +In the doorway, in the group behind the president, a girl stood +with her head against the wall and cried as if her heart would +break. Cried frankly, openly, mopping away tears with a +whole-hearted pocket-handkerchief, and cried more to mop away. +As if there were no afternoon tea, no mob of Yale men in the streets, +no world full of people who might, if they pleased, see those tears and +understand. The girl. Herself. Crying. In a flash, by the +light of the happiness that was overwhelming, he found this other +happiness. He understood. The mad idea which had come back and back +to him out there in the West, which he had put down firmly, the idea +that she had cared too much and not too little on that Tap Day four +years ago--that idea was true. She did care. She cared still. +He knew it without a doubt. He sat on the men's shoulders in his +ridiculous clothes, and the heavens opened. Then the tumult and the +shouting died and they let the hero down, and to the rapid succession +of strong emotions came as a relief another emotion--enthusiasm. +They were cheering the president, on the point of bursting +themselves into fragments to do it, it seemed. There were two +hundred men behind the class banner, and each one was converting +what was convertible of his being into noise. Johnny McLean +turned to with a will and thundered into the volume of tone +which sounded over and over the two short syllables of a name +which to a Yale man's idea fits a cheer better than most. +The president stood quiet, under the heaped-up honors of a +brilliant career, smiling and steady under that delirious music +of his own name rising, winged with men's hearts, to the skies. +Then the band was playing again and they were marching off down the +street together, this wonderful class that knew how to turn earth +into heaven for a fellow who hadn't done much of a stunt anyhow, +this grand, glorious, big-hearted lot of chaps who would have done +much more in his place, every soul of them--so Johnny McLean's +thoughts leaped in time with his steps as they marched away. +And once or twice a terror seized him--for he was weak yet from +his illness--that he was going to make "a fool of himself." +He remembered how the girl had cried; he thought of the way the +boys had loaded him with honor and affection; he heard the +president's voice speaking those impossible words about him--about +him--and he would have given a large sum of money at one or two +junctures to bolt and get behind a locked door alone where he might +cry as the girl had. But the unsentimental hilarity all around saved +him and brought him through without a stain on his behavior. Only he +could not bolt--he could not get a moment to himself for love or money. +It was for love he wanted it. He must find her--he could not wait now. +But he had to wait. He had to go into the country to dinner with +them all and be lionized and made speeches at, and made fun of, and +treated as the darling child and the pride and joy and--what was harder +to bear--as the hero and the great man of the class. All the time +growing madder with restlessness, for who could tell if she might +not be leaving town! A remnant of the class ahead crossed them--and +there was Brant, her brother. Diplomacy was not for Johnny +McLean--he was much too anxious. + +"Brant, look here," and he drew him into a comparative corner. + +"Where is she?" Brant did not pretend not to understand, +but he grinned. + +"At the Andersons', of course." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, I think so." + +"Fellows," said Johnny McLean, "I'm sorry, but I've got to sneak. +I'm going back to town." + +Sentences and scraps of sentences came flying at him from all over. +"Hold him down"--"Chain him up"--"Going--tommy-rot--can't go!" +"You'll be game for the roundup at eleven--you've got to be." +"Our darling boy--he's got to be," and more language. + +"All right for eleven," Johnny agreed. "I'll be at head-quarters +then--but I'm going now," and he went. + +He found her in a garden, which is the best place to make love. +Each place is the best. And in some mystical manner all the doubt +and unhappiness which had been gone over in labored volumes of +thoughts by each alone, melted to nothing, at two or three broken +sentences. There seemed to be nothing to say, for everything was +said in a wordless, clear mode of understanding, which lovers and +saints know. There was little plot to it, yet there was no lack +of interest. In fact so light-footed were the swift moments in the +rose-scented dark garden that Johnny McLean forgot, as others have +forgotten before him, that time was. He forgot that magnificent +lot of fellows, his classmates; there was not a circumstance +outside of the shadowy garden which he did not whole-heartedly +forget. Till a shock brought him to. + +The town was alive with bands and cheers and shouts and marching; +the distinct noises rose and fell and fused and separated, but kept +their distance. When one body of sound, which unnoticed by the +lovers had been growing less vague, more compact, broke all at +once into loud proximity--men marching, men shouting, men singing. +The two, hand tight in hand, started, looked at each other, +listened--and then a name came in a dozen sonorous voices, +as they used to shout it in college days, across the Berkeley Oval. + +"McLean! McLean!" they called. + +"Oh, Johnny McLean!" and "Come out there, oh, Johnny McLean!" +That was Baby Thomas. + +"By Jove, they've trapped me," he said, smiling in the dark and +holding the hand tighter as the swinging steps stopped in front +of the house of the garden. "Brant must have told." + +"They've certainly found you," the girl said. Her arms, +lifted slowly, went about his neck swiftly. "You're mine--but +you're theirs to-night. I haven't a right to so much of +you even. You're theirs. Go." And she held him. But in a +second she had pushed him away. "Go," she said. "You're +theirs, bless every one of them." + +She was standing alone in the dark, sweet garden and there was +a roar in the street which meant that he had opened the door +and they had seen him. And with that there were shouts of +"Put him up"--"Carry him"--"Carry the boy," and laughter and +shouting and then again the measured tread of many men retreating +down the street, and men's voices singing together. The girl +in the dark garden stood laughing, crying, and listened. + + "Mother of men!"-- + +the deep voices sang-- + + "Mother of men grown strong in giving-- + Honor to him thy light have led; + Rich in the toil of thousands living, + Proud of the deeds of thousands dead! + We who have felt thy power, and known thee, + We in whose lives thy lights avail, + High, in our hearts enshrined, enthrone thee, + Mother of men, old Yale!" + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Courage of the Commonplace, by +Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + +***** This file should be named 5825.txt or 5825.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/8/2/5825/ + +Produced by the Literary Preservation Society of Lake Mary +High School, Lake Mary, FL. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/5825.zip b/5825.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..809ca0a --- /dev/null +++ b/5825.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8521124 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #5825 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5825) diff --git a/old/courc10.txt b/old/courc10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca37c8f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/courc10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1491 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Courage of the Commonplace +by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Courage of the Commonplace + +Author: Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +Release Date: June, 2004 [EBook #5825] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on September 10, 2002] +[Date last updated: July 7, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + + + + +This etext was produced by the Literary Preservation Society +of Lake Mary High School, Lake Mary, FL. + + + +The Courage of the Commonplace + +by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews + +The girl and her chaperon had been deposited early in the desirable +second-story window in Durfee, looking down on the tree. Brant was +a senior and a "Bones" man, and so had a leading part to play in +the afternoon's drama. He must get the girl and the chaperon +off his hands, and be at his business. This was "Tap Day." It is +perhaps well to explain what "Tap Day" means; there are people +who have not been at Yale or had sons or sweethearts there. + +In New Haven, on the last Thursday of May, toward five in the +afternoon, one becomes aware that the sea of boys which ripples +always over the little city has condensed into a river flowing +into the campus. There the flood divides and re-divides; the +junior class is separating and gathering from all directions +into a solid mass about the nucleus of a large, low-hanging oak +tree inside the college fence in front of Durfee Hall. The three +senior societies of Yale, Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, and +Wolf's Head, choose to-day fifteen members each from the junior +class, the fifteen members of the outgoing senior class making +the choice. Each senior is allotted his man of the juniors, and +must find him in the crowd at the tree and tap him on the shoulder +and give him the order to go to his room. Followed by his sponsor +he obeys and what happens at the room no one but the men of the +society know. With shining face the lad comes back later and is +slapped on the shoulder and told, "good work, old man," cordially +and whole-heartedly by every friend and acquaintance--by lads who +have "made" every honor possible, by lads who have "made" nothing, +just as heartily. For that is the spirit of Yale. + +Only juniors room in Durfee Hall. On Tap Day an outsider is lucky +who has a friend there, for a window is a proscenium box for +the play--the play which is a tragedy to all but forty-five of the +three hundred and odd juniors. The windows of every story of the +gray stone facade are crowded with a deeply interested audience; +grizzled heads of old graduates mix with flowery hats of women; +every one is watching every detail, every arrival. In front of +the Hall is a drive, and room for perhaps a dozen carriages next +the fence--the famous fence of Yale--which rails the campus round. +Just inside it, at the north-east corner, rises the tree. People +stand up in the carriages, women and men; the fence is loaded with +people, often standing, too, to see that tree. + +All over the campus surges a crowd; students of the other classes, +seniors who last year stood in the compact gathering at the tree +and left it sore-hearted, not having been "taken"; sophomores +who will stand there next year, who already are hoping for and +dreading their Tap Day; little freshmen, each one sure that he, +at least, will be of the elect; and again the iron-gray heads, +the interested faces of old Yale men, and the gay spring hats +like bouquets of flowers. + +It is, perhaps, the most critical single day of the four years' +course at the University. It shows to the world whether or no a boy, +after three years of college life, has in the eyes of the student +body "made good." It is a crucial test, a heart-rending test +for a boy of twenty years. + +The girl sitting in the window of Durfee understood thoroughly +the character and the chances of the day. The seniors at the tree +wear derby hats; the juniors none at all; it is easier by this sign +to distinguish the classmen, and to keep track of the tapping. +The girl knew of what society was each black-hatted man who twisted +through the bareheaded throng; in that sea of tense faces she +recognized many; she could find a familiar head almost anywhere +in the mass and tell as much as an outsider might what hope was +hovering over it. She came of Yale people; Brant, her brother, +would graduate this year; she was staying at the house of a Yale +professor; she was in the atmosphere. + +There, near the edge of the pack, was Bob Floyd, captain of +the crew, a fair, square face with quiet blue eyes, whose +tranquil gaze was characteristic. To-day it was not tranquil; +it flashed anxiously here and there, and the girl smiled. She knew +as certainly as if the fifteen seniors had told her that Floyd +would be "tapped for Bones." The crew captain and the foot-ball +captain are almost inevitably taken for Skull and Bones. Yet +five years before Jack Emmett, captain of the crew, had not +been taken; only two years back Bert Connolly, captain of the +foot-ball team, had not been taken. The girl, watching the big +chap's unconscious face, knew well what was in his mind. "What +chance have I against all these bully fellows," he was saying +to himself in his soul, "even if I do happen to be crew captain? +Connolly was a mutt--couldn't take him--but Jack Emmett--there +wasn't any reason to be seen for that. And it's just muscles +I've got--I'm not clever--I don't hit it off with the crowd--I've +done nothing for Yale, but just for the crew. Why the dickens +should they take me?" But the girl knew. + +The great height and refined, supercilious face of another boy +towered near--Lionel Arnold, a born litterateur, and an artist--he +looked more confident than most. It seemed to the girl he felt +sure of being taken; sure that his name and position and, more +than all, his developed, finished personality must count as much + as that. And the girl knew that in the direct, unsophisticated +judgments of the judges these things did not count at all. + +So she gunned over the swarm which gathered to the oak tree as +bees to a hive, able to tell often what was to happen. Even to +her young eyes all these anxious, upturned faces, watching +silently with throbbing pulses for this first vital decision +of their lives, was a stirring sight. + +"I can't bear it for the ones who aren't taken," she cried out, +and the chaperon did not smile. + +"I know," she said. "Each year I think I'll never come again-- +it's too heart-rending. It means so much to them, and only +forty-five can go away happy. Numbers are just broken-hearted. +I don't like it--it's brutal." + +"Yes, but it's an incentive to the under-classmen--it holds them +to the mark and gives them ambition, doesn't it?" the girl +argued doubtfully. + +The older woman agreed. "I suppose on the whole it's a good +institution. And it's wonderful what wisdom the boys show. +Of course, they make mistakes, but on the whole they pick the +best men astonishingly. So many times they hit the ones who +come to be distinguished." + +"But so many times they don't," the girl followed her words. +Her father and Brant were Bones men--why was the girl arguing +against senior societies? "So many, Mrs. Anderson. Uncle Ted's +friend, the President of Hardrington College, was in Yale in +the '80's and made no senior society; Judge Marston of the +Supreme Court dined with us the other night--he didn't make +anything; Dr. Hamlin, who is certainly one of the great physicians +of the country, wasn't taken. I know a lot more. And look at +some who've made things. Look at my cousin, Gus Vanderpool--he +made Keys twenty years ago and has never done a thing since. +And that fat Mr. Hough, who's so rich and dull--he's Bones." + +"You've got statistics at your fingers' ends, haven't you?" said +Mrs. Anderson. "Anybody might think you had a brother among the +juniors who you weren't hopeful about." She looked at the girl +curiously. Then: "They must be about all there," she spoke, +leaning out. "A full fifty feet square of dear frightened laddies. +There's Brant, coming across the campus. He looks as if he was +going to make some one president. I suppose he feels so. There's +Johnny McLean. I hope he'll be taken--he's the nicest boy in the +whole junior class--but I'm afraid. He hasn't done anything +in particular." + +With that, a thrill caught the most callous of the hundreds of +spectators; a stillness fixed the shifting crowd; from the tower +of Battell chapel, close by, the college bell clanged the stroke +of five; before it stopped striking the first two juniors +would be tapped. + +The dominating, unhurried note rang, echoed, and began to +die away as they saw Brant's hand fall on Bob Floyd's shoulder. +The crew captain whirled and leaped, unseeing, through the crowd. +A great shout rose; all over the campus the people surged like +a wind-driven wave toward the two rushing figures, and everywhere +some one cried, "Floyd has gone Bones!" and the exciting business +had begun. + +One looks at the smooth faces of boys of twenty and wonders what +the sculptor Life is going to make of them. Those who have known +his work know what sharp tools are in his kit; they know the tragic +possibilities as well as the happy ones of those inevitable strokes; +they shrink a bit as they look at the smooth faces of the boys +and realize how that clay must be moulded in the workshop--how +the strong lines which ought to be there some day must come from +the cutting of pain and the grinding of care and the push and +weight of responsibility. Yet there is service and love, too, +and happiness and the slippery bright blade of success in the +kit of Life the sculptor; so they stand and watch, a bit pitifully +but hopefully, as the work begins, and cannot guide the chisel +but a little way, yet would not, if they could, stop it, for the +finished job is going to be, they trust, a man, and only the +sculptor Life can make such. + +The boy called Johnny McLean glanced up at the window in Durfee; +he met the girl's eyes, and the girl smiled back and made a gay +motion with her hand as if to say, "Keep up your pluck; you'll +be taken." And wished she felt sure of it. For, as Mrs. Anderson +had said, he had done nothing in particular. His marks were good, +he was a fair athlete; good at rowing, good at track work; he had +"heeled" the News for a year, but had not made the board. A gift of +music, which bubbled without effort, had put him on the Glee Club. +Yet that had come to him; it was not a thing he had done; boys +are critical of such distinctions. It is said that Skull and Bones +aims at setting its seal above all else on character. This boy had +sailed buoyantly from term to term delighted with the honors which +came to his friends, friends with the men who carried off honors, +with the best and strongest men in his class, yet never quite +arriving for himself. As the bright, anxious young face looked up +at the window where the women sat, the older one thought she could +read the future in it, and she sighed. It was a face which +attracted, broad-browed, clear-eyed, and honest, but not a strong +face--yet. John McLean had only made beginnings; he had accomplished +nothing. Mrs. Anderson, out of an older experience, sighed, because +she had seen just such winning, lovable boys before, and had seen +them grow into saddened, unsuccessful men. Yet he was full of +possibility; the girl was hoping against hope that Brant and the +fourteen other seniors of Skull and Bones would see it so and take +him on that promise. She was not pretending to herself that anything +but Johnny McLean's fate in it was the point of this Tap Day to her. +She was very young, only twenty also, but there was a maturity in +her to which the boy made an appeal. She felt a strength which +others missed; she wanted him to find it; she wanted passionately +to see him take his place where she felt he belonged, with the men +who counted. + +The play was in full action. Grave and responsible seniors worked +swiftly here and there through the tight mass, searching each one +his man; every two or three minutes a man was found and felt that +thrilling touch and heard the order, "Go to your room." Each time +there was a shout of applause; each time the campus rushed in +a wave. And still the three hundred stood packed, waiting-- +thinning a little, but so little. About thirty had been taken now, +and the black senior hats were visibly fewer, but the upturned boy +faces seemed exactly the same. Only they grew more anxious minute +by minute; minute by minute they turned more nervously this way +and that as the seniors worked through the mass. And as another +and another crashed from among them blind and solemn and happy +with his guardian senior close after, the ones who were left seemed +to drop into deeper quiet. And now there were only two black hats +in the throng; the girl looking down saw John McLean standing +stiffly, his gray eyes fixed, his face pale and set; at that +moment the two seniors found their men together. It was all over. +He had not been taken. + +Slowly the two hundred and fifty odd men who had not been good +enough dispersed, pluckily laughing and talking together-- +all of them, it is safe to say, with heavy hearts; for Tap Day +counts as much as that at Yale. + +John McLean swung across the diagonal of the campus toward +Welch Hall where he lived. He saw the girl and her chaperon +come out of Durfee; and he lingered to meet them. Two days ago +he had met the girl here with Brant, and she had stopped and +shaken hands. It seemed to him it would help if that should +happen today. She might say a word; anything at all to show that +she was friends all the same with a fellow who wasn't good enough. +He longed for that. With a sick chaos of pain pounding at what +seemed to be his lungs he met her. Mrs. Anderson was between +them, putting out a quick hand; the boy hardly saw her as he +took it. He saw the girl, and the girl did not look at him. +With her head up and her brown eyes fixed on Phelps gate-way she +hurried along--and did not look at him. He could not believe it-- +that girl--the girl. But she was gone; she had not looked at him. +Like a shot animal he suddenly began to run. He got to his rooms; +they were empty; Baby Thomas, his "wife," known as Archibald +Babington Thomas on the catalogue, but not elsewhere, had been +taken for Scroll and Key; he was off with the others who were +worth while. This boy went into his tiny bedroom and threw +himself down with his face in his pillow and lay still. Men +and women learn--sometimes--as they grow older, how to shut +the doors against disappointments so that only the vital ones +cut through, but at twenty all doors are open; the iron had come +into his soul, and the girl had given it a twist which had taken +his last ounce of courage. He lay still a long time, enduring-- +all he could manage at first. It might have been an hour later +that he got up and went to his desk and sat down in the fading +light, his hands deep in his trousers pockets; his athletic young +figure dropped together listlessly; his eyes staring at the desk +where had worked away so many cheerful hours. Pictures hung +around it; there was a group taken last summer of girls and boys +at his home in the country, the girl was in it--he did not look +at her. His father's portrait stood on the desk, and a painting +of his long-dead mother. He thought to himself hotly that it was +good she was dead rather than see him shamed. For the wound was +throbbing with a fever, and the boy had not got to a sense of +proportion; his future seemed blackened. His father's picture +stabbed him; he was a "Bones" man--all of his family--his +grandfather, and the older brothers who had graduated four and +six years ago--all of them. Except himself. The girl had thought +it such a disgrace that she would not look at him! Then he grew +angry. It wasn't decent, to hit a man when he was down. A woman +ought to be gentle--if his mother had been alive--but then he +was glad she wasn't. With that a sob shook him--startled him. +Angrily he stood up and glared about the place. This wouldn't do; +he must pull himself together. He walked up and down the little +living room, bright with boys' belongings, with fraternity shields +and flags and fencing foils and paddles and pictures; he walked +up and down and he whistled "Dunderbeck," which somehow was in +his head. Then he was singing it: + +"Oh Dunderbeck, Oh Dunderbeck, how could you be so mean +As even to have thought of such a terrible machine! +For bob-tailed rats and pussy-cats shall never more be seen; +They'll all be ground to sausage-meat in Dunderbeck's machine." + +There are times when Camembert cheese is a steadying thing to +think of--or golf balls. "Dunderbeck" answered for John McLean. +It appeared difficult to sing, however--he harked back to +whistling. Then the clear piping broke suddenly. He bit his +lower lip and went and sat down before the desk again and turned +on the electric reading-lamp. Now he had given in long enough; +now he must face the situation; now was the time to find if +there was any backbone in him to "buck up." To fool those chaps +by amounting to something. There was good stuff in this boy that +he applied this caustic and not a salve. His buoyant +lightheartedness whispered that the fellows made mistakes; +that he was only one of many good chaps left; that Dick Harding +had a pull and Jim Stanton had an older brother--excuses came. +But the boy checked them. + +"That's not the point; I didn't make it; I didn't deserve it; +I've been easy on myself; I've got to change; so some day my +people won't be ashamed of me--maybe." Slowly, painfully, +he fought his way to a tentative self-respect. He might not +ever be anything big, a power as his father was, but he could +be a hard worker, he could make a place. A few days before a +famous speaker had given an address on an ethical subject at +Yale. A sentence of it came to the boy's struggling mind. +"The courage of the commonplace is greater than the courage +of the crisis," the orator had said. That was his chance-- +"the courage of the commonplace." No fireworks for him, perhaps, +ever, but, by Jove, work and will could do a lot, and he could +prove himself worthy. + +"I'm not through yet, but ginger," he said out loud. "I can do +my best anyhow and I'll show if I'm not fit"--the energetic tone +trailed off--he was only a boy of twenty--"not fit to be looked +at," he finished brokenly. + +It came to him in a vague, comforting way that probably the best +game a man could play with his life would be to use it as a tool +to do work with; to keep it at its brightest, cleanest, most +efficient for the sake of the work. This boy, of no phenomenal +sort, had one marked quality--when he had made a decision he +acted on it. Tonight through the soreness of a bitter +disappointment he put his finger on the highest note of his +character and resolved. All unknown to himself it was a crisis. + +It was long past dinner-time, but he dashed out now and got food, +and when Baby Thomas came in he found his room-mate sleepy, but +quite himself; quite steady in his congratulations as well as +normal in his abuse for "keeping a decent white man awake to +this hour." + +Three years later the boy graduated from the Boston "Tech." +As his class poured from Huntington Hall, he saw his father +waiting for him. He noted with pride, as he always did, the tall +figure, topped with a wonderful head--a mane of gray hair, +a face carved in iron, squared and cut down to the marrow of +brains and force--a man to be seen in any crowd. With that, +as his own met the keen eyes behind the spectacles, he was aware +of a look which startled him. The boy had graduated at the very +head of his class; that light in his father's eyes all at once +made two years of work a small thing. + +"I didn't know you were coming, sir. That's mighty nice of you," +he said, as they walked down Boylston Street together, and his +father waited a moment and then spoke in his usual incisive tone. + +"I wouldn't have liked to miss it, Johnny," he said. "I don't +remember that anything in my life has ever made me as satisfied +as you have to-day." + +With a gasp of astonishment the young man looked at him, looked +away, looked at the tops of the houses, and did not find a word +anywhere. His father had never spoken to him so; never before, +perhaps, had he said anything as intimate to any of his sons. +They knew that the cold manner of the great engineer covered +depths, but they never expected to see the depths uncovered. +But here he was, talking of what he felt, of character, and +honor and effort. + +"I've appreciated what you've been doing," the even voice went on. +"I talk little about personal affairs. But I'm not uninterested; +I watch. I was anxious about you. You were a more uncertain +quantity than Ted and Harry. Your first three years at Yale +were not satisfactory. I was afraid you lacked manliness. +Then came--a disappointment. It was a blow to us--to family +pride. I watched you more closely, and I saw before that year +ended that you were taking your medicine rightly. I wanted to +tell you of my contentment, but being slow of speech I--couldn't. +So"--the iron face broke for a second into a whimsical grin-- +"so I offered you a motor. And you wouldn't take it. I knew, +though you didn't explain, that you feared it would interfere +with your studies. I was right?" Johnny nodded. "Yes. And your +last year at college was--was all I could wish. I see now that +you needed a blow in the face to wake you up--and you got it. +And you waked." The great engineer smiled with clean pleasure. +"I have had"--he hesitated--"I have had always a feeling of +responsibility to your mother for you--more than for the others. +You were so young when she died that you seem more her child. +I was afraid I had not treated you well--that it was my fault +if you failed." The boy made a gesture--he could not very well +speak. His father went on: "So when you refused the motor, when +you went into engineer's camp that first summer instead of going +abroad, I was pleased. Your course here has been a satisfaction, +without a drawback--keener, certainly, because I am an engineer, +and could appreciate, step by step, how well you were doing, how +much you were giving up to do it, how much power you were gaining +by that long sacrifice. I've respected you through these years of +commonplace, and I've known how much more courage it meant in a +pleasure-loving lad such as you than it would have meant in a +serious person such as I am--such as Ted and Harry are, to an +extent, also." The older man, proud and strong and reserved, +turned on his son such a shining face as the boy had never seen. +"That boyish failure isn't wiped out, Johnny, for I shall remember +it as the corner-stone of your career, already built over with +an honorable record. You've made good. I congratulate you and +I honor you." + +The boy never knew how he got home. He knocked his shins badly +on a quite visible railing and it was out of the question to +say a single word. But if he staggered it was with an overload +of happiness, and if he was speechless and blind the stricken +faculties were paralyzed with joy. His father walked beside +him and they understood each other. He reeled up the streets +contented. + +That night there was a family dinner, and with the coffee his +father turned and ordered fresh champagne opened. + +"We must have a new explosion to drink to the new superintendent +of the Oriel mine," he said. Johnny looked at him surprised, +and then at the others, and the faces were bright with the same +look of something which they knew and he did not. + +"What's up?" asked Johnny. "Who's the superintendent of the +Oriel mine? Why do we drink to him? What are you all grinning +about, anyway?" The cork flew up to the ceiling, and the butler +poured gold bubbles into the glasses, all but his own. + +"Can't I drink to the beggar, too, whoever he is?" asked Johnny, +and moved his glass and glanced up at Mullins. But his father was +beaming at Mullins in a most unusual way and Johnny got no wine. +With that Ted, the oldest brother, pushed back his chair and +stood and lifted his glass. + +"We'll drink," he said, and bowed formally to Johnny, "to the +gentleman who is covering us all with glory, to the new +superintendent of the Oriel mine, Mr. John Archer McLean," +and they stood and drank the toast. Johnny, more or less dizzy, +more or less scarlet, crammed his hands in his pockets and +started and turned redder, and brought out interrogations in +the nervous English which is acquired at our great institutions +of learning. + +"Gosh! are you all gone dotty?" he asked. And "Is this a merry +jape?" And "Why, for cat's sake, can't you tell a fellow what's +up your sleeve?" While the family sipped champagne and regarded him. + +"Now, if I've squirmed for you enough, I wish you'd explain-- +father, tell me!" the boy begged. + +And the tale was told by the family, in chorus, without politeness, +interrupting freely. It seemed that the president of the big mine +needed a superintendent, and wishing young blood and the latest +ideas had written to the head of the Mining Department in the +School of Technology to ask if he would give him the name of the +ablest man in the graduating class--a man to be relied on for +character as much as brains, he specified, for the rough army of +miners needed a general at their head almost more than a scientist. +Was there such a combination to be found, he asked, in a youngster +of twenty-three or twenty-four, such as would be graduating from +the "Tech"? If possible, he wanted a very young man--he wanted the +enthusiasm, he wanted the athletic tendency, he wanted the +plus-strength, he wanted the unmade reputation which would look +for its making to hard work in the mine. The letter was produced +and read to the shamefaced Johnny. "Gosh!" he remarked at intervals +and remarked practically nothing else. There was no need. They were +so proud and so glad that it was almost too much for the boy who +had been a failure three years ago. + +On the urgent insistence of every one he made a speech. He got +to his six-feet-two slowly, and his hands went into his trousers +pockets as usual. "Holy mackerel," he began--"I don't call it +decent to knock the wind out of a man and then hold him up for +remarks. They all said in college that I talked the darnedest +hash in the class, anyway. But you will have it, will you? I +haven't got anything to say, so's you'd notice it, except that +I'll be blamed if I see how this is true. Of course I'm keen +for it--Keen! I should say I was! And what makes me keenest, +I believe, is that I know it's satisfactory to Henry McLean." +He turned his bright face to his father. "Any little plugging +I've done seems like thirty cents compared to that. You're all +peaches to take such an interest, and I thank you a lot. Me, +the superintendent of the Oriel mine! Holy mackerel!" gasped +Johnny, and sat down. + +The proportion of fighting in the battle of life outweighs the +"beer and skittles"; as does the interest. Johnny McLean found +interest in masses, in the drab-and-dun village on the prairie. +He found pleasure, too, and as far as he could reach he tried to +share it; buoyancy and generosity were born in him; strenuousness +he had painfully acquired, and like most converts was a fanatic +about it. He was splendidly fit; he was the best and last output + of the best institution in the country; he went at his work +like a joyful locomotive. Yet more goes to explain what he was +and what he did. He developed a faculty for leading men. The +cold bath of failure, the fire of success had tempered the young +steel of him to an excellent quality; bright and sharp, it cut +cobwebs in the Oriel mine where cobwebs had been thickening for +months. The boy, normal enough, quite unphenomenal, was growing +strong by virtue of his one strong quality: he did what he +resolved to do. For such a character to make a vital decision +rightly is a career. On the night of the Tap Day which had so +shaken him, he had struck the key-note. He had resolved to use +his life as if it were a tool in his hand to do work, and he +had so used it. The habit of bigness, once caught, possesses one +as quickly as the habit of drink; Johnny McLean was as unhampered +by the net of smallnesses which tangle most of us as a hermit; +the freedom gave him a power which was fast making a marked man +of him. + +There was dissatisfaction among the miners; a strike was probable; +the popularity of the new superintendent warded it off from month +to month, which counted unto him for righteousness in the mind +of the president, of which Johnny himself was unaware. Yet the +cobwebs grew; there was an element not reached by, resentful of, +the atmosphere of Johnny's friendliness--"Terence O'Hara's gang." +By the old road of music he had found his way to the hearts of +many. There were good voices among the thousand odd workmen, +and Johnny McLean could not well live without music. He heard +Dennis Mulligan's lovely baritone and Jack Dennison's rolling +bass, as they sang at work in the dim tunnels of the coal-mine, +and it seemed quite simple to him that they and he and others +should meet when work hours were over and do some singing. +Soon it was a club--then a big club; it kept men out of saloons, +which Johnny was glad of, but had not planned. A small kindliness +seems often to be watered and fertilized by magic. Johnny's +music-club grew to be a spell to quiet wild beasts. Yet Terence +O'Hara and his gang had a strong hold; there was storm in the air +and the distant thunder was heard almost continually. + +Johnny, as he swung up the main street of the flat little town, +the brick school-house and the two churches at one end, many +saloons en route, and the gray rock dump and the chimneys and +shaft-towers of the mine at the other, carried a ribbon of +brightness through the sordid place. Women came to the doors to +smile at the handsome young gentleman who took his hat off as if +they were ladies; children ran by his side, and he knocked their +caps over their eyes and talked nonsense to them, and swung on +whistling. But at night, alone in his room, he was serious. +How to keep the men patient; how to use his influence with them; +how to advise the president--for young as he was he had to do +this because of the hold he had gained on the situation; what +concessions were wise--the young face fell into grave lines as +he sat, hands deep in his pockets as usual, and considered these +questions. Already the sculptor Life was chiselling away the +easy curves with the tool of responsibility. + +He thought of other things sometimes as he sat before the wood fire +in his old Morris chair. His college desk was in the corner by the +window, and around it hung photographs ordered much as they had +been in New Haven. The portrait of his father on the desk, the +painting of his mother, and above them, among the boys' faces, +the group of boys and girls of whom she was one, the girl whom +he had not forgotten. He had not seen her since that Tap Day. +She had written him soon after--an invitation for a week-end at +her mother's camp in the woods. But he would not go. He sat +in the big chair staring at the fire, this small room in the West, +and thought about it. No, he could not have gone to her house +party--how could he? He had thought, poor lunatic, that there +was an unspoken word between them; that she was different to him +from what she was to the others. Then she had failed him at the +moment of need. He would not be taken back half-way, with the +crowd. He could not. So he had civilly ignored the hand which +had held out several times, in several ways. Hurt and proud, +yet without conceit, he believed that she kept him at a distance, +and would not risk coming too near, and so stayed altogether away. +It happens at times that a big, attractive, self-possessed man +is secretly as shy, as fanciful, as the shyest girl--if he cares. +Once and again indeed the idea flashed into the mind of Johnny +McLean--that perhaps she had been so sorry that she did not dare +look at him. But he flung that aside with a savage half-thought. + +"What rot! It's probable that I was important enough for that, +isn't it? You fool!" And about then he was likely to get up with +a spring and attack a new book on pillar and shaft versus the block +system of mining coal. + +The busy days went on, and the work grew more absorbing, the +atmosphere more charged with an electricity which foretold +tempest. The president knew that the personality of the young +superintendent almost alone held the electricity in solution +that for months he and his little musical club and his large +popularity had kept off the strike. Till at last a day came +in early May. + +We sit at the ends of the earth and sew on buttons and play cards +while fate wipes from existence the thing dearest to us. Johnny's +father that afternoon mounted his new saddle-horse and rode +through the afternoon lights and shadows of spring. The girl, +who had not forgotten, either, went to a luncheon and the theatre +after. And it was not till next morning that Brant, her brother, +called to her, as she went upstairs after breakfast, in a voice +which brought her running back. He had a paper in his hand, +and he held it to her. + +"What is it, Brant? Something bad?" + +"Yes," he said, breathing fast. "Awful. It's going to make +you feel badly, for you liked him--poor old Johnny McLean." + +"Johnny McLean?" she repeated. Brant went on. + +"Yesterday--a mine accident. He went down after the entombed men. +Not a chance." Brant's mouth worked. "He died--like a hero-- +you know." The girl stared. + +"Died? Is Johnny McLean dead?" + +She did fall down, or cry out, but then Brant knew. Swiftly he +came up and put his big, brotherly arm around her. + +"Wait, my dear," he said. "There's a ray of hope. Not really +hope, you know--it was certain death he went to--but yet they +haven't found--they don't know, absolutely, that he's dead." + +Five minutes later the girl was locked in her room with the paper. +His name was in large letters in the head-lines. She read the +account over many times, with painstaking effort to understand +that this meant Johnny McLean. That he was down there now, while +she breathed pure air. Many times she read it, dazed. Suddenly +she flashed to the window and threw it open and beat on the stone +sill and dragged her hands across it. Then in a turn she felt +this to be worse than useless and dropped on her knees and found +out what prayer is. She read the paper again, then, and faced +things. + +It was the oft-repeated, incredible story of men so accustomed to +danger that they throw away their lives in sheer carelessness. +A fire down in the third level, five hundred feet underground; +delay in putting it out; shifting of responsibility of one to +another, mistakes and stupidity; then the sudden discovering +that they were all but cut off; the panic and the crowding for +the shaft, and scenes of terror and selfishness and heroism +down in the darkness and smothering smoke. + +The newspaper story told how McLean, the young superintendent, +had come running down the street, bare-headed, with his light, +great pace of an athlete. How, just as he got there, the cage +of six men, which had gone to the third level, had been drawn +up after vague, wild signalling, filled with six corpses. +How, when the crowd had seen that he meant to go down, a storm +of appeal had broken that he should not throw his life away; +how the very women whose husbands and sons were below had clung +to him. Then the paper told of how he had turned at the mouth +of the shaft--the girl could see him standing there tall and broad, +with the light on his boyish blond head. He had snatched a +paper from his pocket and waved it at arm's-length so that everyone +could see. The map of the mine. Gallery 57, on the second level, +where the men now below had been working, was close to gallery 9, +entered from the other shaft a quarter of a mile away. The two +galleries did not communicate, but only six feet of earth divided +them. The men might chop through to 9 and reach the other shaft +and be saved. But the men did not know it. He explained shortly +that he must get to them and tell them. He would go to the second +level and with an oxygen helmet would reach possible air before +he was caught. Quickly, with an unhesitating decision, he talked, +and his buoyancy put courage in to the stricken crowd. With that +a woman's voice lifted. + +"Don't go--don't ye go, darlin'," it screamed. "'Tis no frinds +down there. 'Tis Terence O'Hara and his gang--'tis the +strike-makers. Don't be throwin' away your sweet young life +for thim." + +The boy laughed. "That's all right. Terence has a right to +his chance." He went on rapidly. "I want five volunteers--quick. +A one-man chance isn't enough to take help. Quick--five." + +And twenty men pushed to the boy to follow him into hell. +Swiftly he picked five; they put on the heavy oxygen helmets; +there was a deep silence as the six stepped into the cage and +McLean rang the bell that signaled the engineer to let them down. +That was all. They were the last rescuers to go down, and the +cage had been drawn up empty. That was all, the newspaper said. +The girl read it. All! And his father racing across the +continent, to stand with the shawled women at the head of the +shaft. And she, in the far-off city, going though the motions +of living. + +The papers told of the crowds gathering, of the Red Cross, +of the experts come to consider the situation, of the line +of patient women, with shawls over their heads, waiting always, +there at the first gray light, there when night fell; the girl, +gasping at her window, would have given years of her life to +have stood with those women. The second day she read that +they had closed the mouth of the shaft; it was considered that +the one chance for life below lay in smothering the flames. +When the girl read that, a madness came on her. The shawled +women felt that same madness; if the inspectors and the company +officials had insisted they could not have kept the mine closed +long--the people would have opened it by force; it was felt +unendurable to seal their men below; the shaft was unsealed in +twenty-four hours. But the smoke came out, and then the watchers +realized that a wall of flame was worse than a wall of planks +and sand, and the shaft was closed again. + +For days there was no news; then the first fruitless descent; +then men went down and brought up heavy shapes rolled in canvas +and bore them to the women; and "each morning the Red Cross +president, lifting the curtain of the car where he slept, would +see at first light the still rows of those muffled figures +waiting in the hopeless daybreak." Not yet had the body of the +young superintendent been found; yet one might not hope because +of that. But when one afternoon the head-lines of the papers +blazed with a huge "Rescued," she could not read it, and she knew +that she had hoped. + +It was true. Eighteen men had been brought up alive, and Johnny +McLean was one. Johnny McLean carried out senseless, with an +arm broken, with a gash in his forehead done by a falling beam +as he crawled to hail the rescuers--but Johnny McLean alive. +He was very ill, yet the girl had not a minute's doubt that +he would get well. + +And while he lay unconscious, the papers of the country rang +with the story of what he had done, and his father sitting +by his bed read it, through unashamed tears, but Johnny took +no interest. Breathing satisfied him pretty well for a while. +There is no need to tell over what the papers told--how he had +taken the leadership of the demoralized band; how when he found +them cut off from the escape which he had planned he had set +them to work building a barrier across a passage where the air +was fresher; how behind this barrier they had lived for six days, +by the faith and courage of Johnny McLean. How he had kept them +busy playing games, telling stories; had taught them music and +put heart into them to sing glees, down in their tomb; how he had + stood guard over the pitiful supply of water which dripped from +the rock walls, and found ways of saving every drop and made +each man take his turn; how when Tom Steele went mad and tried +to break out of the barrier on the fifth day, it was McLean who +fought him and kept him from the act which would have let in the +black damp to kill all of them; how it was the fall in the +slippery darkness of that struggle which had broken his arm. +The eighteen told the story, but by bit, as the men grew strong +enough to talk, and the record rounded out, of life and reason +saved by a boy who had risen out of the gray of commonplace +into the red light of heroism. The men who came out of that +burial spoke afterward of McLean as of an inspired being. + +At all events the strike question was settled in that week below, +and Johnny McLean held the ringleaders now in the hollow of his +hand. Terence O'Hara opened his eyes and delivered a dictum two +hours after he was carried home. "Tell thim byes," he growled +in weak jerks, "that if any wan of thim says shtrike till that +McLean child drops the hat, they'll fight--O'Hara." + +Day after day, while the country was in an uproar of enthusiasm, +Johnny lay unconscious, breathing, and doing no more. And large +engineering affairs were allowed to go and rack and ruin while +Henry McLean watched his son. + +On a hot morning such as comes in May, a veteran fly of the year +before buzzed about the dim window of the sick-room and banged +against the half-closed shutters. Half-conscious of the sound +the boy's father read near it, when another sound made his pulse +jump. + +"Chase him out," came from the bed in a weak, cheerful voice. +"Don't want any more things shut up for a spell." + +An hour later the older man stood over the boy. "Do you know +your next job, Johnny?" he said. "You've got to get well in +three weeks. Your triennial in New Haven is then." + +"Holy--mackerel!" exploded the feeble tones. "All right, Henry, +I'll do it." + + +* * * + + +Somewhere in the last days of June, New England is at its +loveliest and it is commencement time at Yale. Under the tall +elms stretch the shady streets, alive eternally with the +ever-new youth of ever-coming hundreds of boys. But at +commencement the pleasant, drowsy ways take on an astonishing +character; it is as if the little city had gone joyfully mad. +Hordes of men of all ages, in startling clothes, appear in all +quarters. Under Phelps Gate-way one meets pirates with long hair, +with ear-rings, with red sashes; crossing the campus comes a band +of Highlanders, in front of the New Haven House are stray +Dutchmen and Japanese and Punchinellos and other flotsam not +expected in a decorous town; down College Street a group of +men in gowns of white swing away through the dappled shadows. + +The atmosphere is enchanted; it is full of greetings and reunions +and new beginnings and of old friendship; with the every-day +clothes the boys of old have shed responsibilities and dignities +and are once more irresponsibly the boys of old. From California +and Florida, even from China and France, they come swarming into +the Puritan place, while in and out through the light-hearted +kaleidoscopic crowd hurry slim youngsters in floating black gown +and scholar's cap--the text of all this celebration, the +graduating class. Because of them it is commencement, it is +they who step now over the threshold and carry Yale's honor in +their young hands into the world. But small attention do they get, +the graduating class, at commencement. The classic note of their +grave youthfulness is drowned in the joyful uproar; in the clamor +of a thousand greetings one does not listen to these voices which +say farewell. From the nucleus of these busy, black-clad young +fellows, the folds of their gowns billowing about light, strong +figures, the stern lines of the Oxford cap graciously at odds +with the fresh modelling of their faces--down from these lads +in black, the largest class of all, taper the classes,--fewer, +grayer, as the date is older, till a placard on a tree in the +campus tells that the class of '51, it may be, has its +head-quarters at such a place; a handful of men with white hair +are lunching together--and that is a reunion. + +In the afternoon of commencement day there is a base-ball game at +Yale Field. To that the returning classes go in costume, mostly +marching out afoot, each with its band of music, through the gay, +dusty street, by the side of the gay, dusty street, by the side +of the gay, crowded trolley-cars loaded to the last inch of the +last step with a holiday crowd, good-natured, sympathetic, full +of humor as an American crowd is always. The men march laughing, +talking, nodding to friends in the cars, in the motors, in the +carriages which fly past them; the bands play; the houses are +faced with people come to see the show. + +The amphitheatre of Yale Field is packed with more than ten +thousand. The seniors are there with their mothers and fathers, +their pretty little sisters and their proud little brothers--the +flower of the country. One looks about and sees everywhere +high-bred faces, strong faces, open-eyed, drinking in this +extraordinary scene. For there is nothing just like it elsewhere. +Across the field where hundreds of automobiles and carriages are +drawn close--beyond that is a gate-way, and through this, at +three o'clock or so, comes pouring a rainbow. A gigantic, +light-filled, motion-swept rainbow of men. The first rays +of vivid color resolve into a hundred Japanese geishas; they +come dancing, waving paper umbrellas down Yale Field; on their +heels press Dutch kiddie, wooden-shod, in scarlet and white, +with wigs of peroxide hair. Then sailors, some of them twirling +oars--the famous victorious crew of fifteen years back; with +these march a dozen lads from fourteen to eight, the sons of +the class, sailor-clad too; up from their midst as they reach +the centre of the field drifts a flight of blue balloons of all +sizes. Then come the men of twenty years ago stately in white +gowns and mortar-boards; then the Triennials, with a class boy +of two years, costumed in miniature and trundled in a go-cart +by a nervous father. The Highlanders stalk by to the skirl of +bagpipes with their contingent of tall boys, the coming sons +of Alma Mater. The thirty-five-year graduates, eighty strong, +the men who are handling the nation, wear a unanimous sudden +growth of rolling gray beard. Class after class they come, +till over a thousand men have marched out to the music of bands, +down Yale Field and past the great circle of the seats, and +have settled in brilliant masses of color on the "bleachers." +Then from across the field rise men's voices singing. They +sing the college songs which their fathers sang, which their +sons and great-grandsons will sing. The rhythm rolls forward +steadily in all those deep voices: + +"Nor time nor change can aught avail," the words come, + +"To break the friendships formed at Yale." + +There is many a breath caught in the crowded multitude to hear +the men sing that. + +Then the game--and Yale wins. The classes pour on the field in +a stormy sea of color, and dance quadrilles, and form long lines +hand in hand which sway and cross and play fantastically in a +dizzying, tremendous jubilation which fills all of Yale Field. +The people standing up to go cannot go, but stay and watch them, +these thousand children of many ages, this marvellous show of +light-heartedness and loyalty. Till at last the costumes drift +together in platoons and disappear slowly; and the crowd thins +and the last and most stirring act of the commencement-day drama +is at hand. + +It has come to be an institution that after the game the old +graduates should go, class by class, to the house of the president +of Yale, to renew allegiance. It has come to be an institution +that he, standing on the steps of his house, should make a short +speech to each class. The rainbow of men, sweeping gloriously +down the city streets with their bands, dissolves into a whirlwind +at the sight of that well-known, slight, dignified figure on the +doorstep of the modest house--this is a thing which one who has +seen it does not forget; the three-minute speeches, each apt to +its audience, each pointed with a dart straight to the heart of +class pride and sentiment, these are a marvel. Few men living +could come out of a such a test creditably; only this master of +men and of boys could do it as he does. For each class goes away +confident that the president at least shares its conviction that +it is the best class ever graduated. Life might well be worth +living, it would seem, to a man who should hear every year hundreds +of men's voices thundering his name as these men behind the class +banners. + +Six weeks after the disaster of the Oriel mine it was commencement +day in New Haven and Johnny McLean, his broken arm in a sling, +a square of adhesive plaster on his forehead, was back for his +Triennial. He was mightily astonished at the greeting he got. +Classmates came up to him and shook his hand and said half a +sentence and stopped, with an arm around his shoulder; people +treated him in a remarkable way, as if he had done something +unheard of. + +It gratified him, after a fashion, yet it more than half annoyed +him. He mentioned over and over again in protest that he had done +nothing which "every one of you fellows wouldn't have done just +the same," but they laughed at that and stood staring in a most +embarrassing way. + +"Gosh, Johnny McLean," Tim Erwin remarked finally, "wake up and +hear the birdies sing. Do you mean to tell me you don't know +you're the hero of the whole blamed nation?" + +And Johnny McLean turned scarlet and replied that he didn't think +it so particularly funny to guy a man who had attended strictly +to his business, and walked off. While Erwin and the others +regarded him astounded. + +"Well, if that isn't too much!" gasped Tim. "He actually doesn't know!" + +"He's likely to find out before we get through," Neddy Haines, +of Denver, jerked out nasally and they laughed as if at a secret +known together. + +So Johnny pursued his way through the two or three days before +commencement, absorbed in meeting friends, embarrassed at times +by their manner, but taking obstinately the modest place in the +class which he had filled in college. It did not enter his mind +that anything he had done could alter his standing with the +"fellows." Moreover, he did not spend time considering that. +So he was one of two hundred Buster Browns who marched to Yale Field +in white Russian blouses with shiny blue belts, in sailor hats +with blue ribbons, and when the Triennials rushed tempestuously +down Trumbull Street in the tracks of the gray-beards of thirty-five +years before, Johnny found himself carried forward so that he +stood close to the iron fence which guards the little yard from +the street. There is always an afternoon tea at the president's +house after the game, to let people see the classes make their +call on the head of the University. The house was full of people; +the yard was filled with gay dresses and men gathered to see the +parade. + +On the high stone steps under the arch of the doorway stood the +president and close by him the white, light figure of a little +girl, her black hair tied with a big blue bow. Clustered in the +shadow behind them were other figures. Johnny McLean saw the +little maid and then his gaze was riveted on the president. +It surely was good to see him again; this man who knew how to +make them all swear by him. + +"What will he have to say to us," Johnny wondered. "Something +that will please the whole bunch, I'll bet. He always hits it." + +"Men of the class of -," the president began, in his deep, +characteristic intonations, "I know that there is only one name +you want to hear me speak; only one thought in all the minds +of your class." + +A hoarse murmur which a second's growth would have made into a +wild shout started in the throats of the massed men behind the +class banner. The president held up his hand. + +"Wait a minute. We want that cheer; we'll have it; but I've got +a word first. A great speaker who talked to you boys in your +college course said a thing that came to my mind to-day. +'The courage of the commonplace,' he said, 'is greater than the +courage of the crisis.'" + +Again that throaty, threatening growl, and again the president's +hand went up--the boys were hard to hold. + +"I see a man among you whose life has added a line to that saying, +who has shown to the world that it is the courage of the commonplace +which trains for the courage of the crisis. And that's all I've got +to say, for the nation is saying the rest-except three times three +for the glory of the class of -, the newest name on the honor roll +of Yale, McLean of the Oriel mine." + +It is probably a dizzying thing to be snatched into the seventh +heaven. Johnny McLean standing, scarlet, stunned, his eyes glued +on the iron fence between him and the president, knew nothing +except a whirling of his brain and an earnest prayer that he might +not make a fool of himself. With that, even as the thunder of +voices began, he felt himself lifted, swung to men's shoulders, +carried forward. And there he sat in his foolish Buster Brown +costume, with his broken arm in its sling, with the white patch +on his forehead, above his roaring classmates. There he sat +perspiring and ashamed, and faced the head of the University, who, +it must be said, appeared not to miss the humor of the situation, +for he laughed consumedly. And still they cheered and still his +name rang again and again. Johnny, hot and squirming under the +merry presidential eye, wondered if they were going to cheer +all night. And suddenly everything--class-mates, president, +roaring voices--died away. There was just one thing on earth. +In the doorway, in the group behind the president, a girl stood +with her head against the wall and cried as if her heart would +break. Cried frankly, openly, mopping away tears with a +whole-hearted pocket-handkerchief, and cried more to mop away. +As if there were no afternoon tea, no mob of Yale men in the streets, +no world full of people who might, if they pleased, see those tears and +understand. The girl. Herself. Crying. In a flash, by the +light of the happiness that was overwhelming, he found this other +happiness. He understood. The mad idea which had come back and back +to him out there in the West, which he had put down firmly, the idea +that she had cared too much and not too little on that Tap Day four +years ago--that idea was true. She did care. She cared still. +He knew it without a doubt. He sat on the men's shoulders in his +ridiculous clothes, and the heavens opened. Then the tumult and the +shouting died and they let the hero down, and to the rapid succession +of strong emotions came as a relief another emotion--enthusiasm. +They were cheering the president, on the point of bursting +themselves into fragments to do it, it seemed. There were two +hundred men behind the class banner, and each one was converting +what was convertible of his being into noise. Johnny McLean +turned to with a will and thundered into the volume of tone +which sounded over and over the two short syllables of a name +which to a Yale man's idea fits a cheer better than most. +The president stood quiet, under the heaped-up honors of a +brilliant career, smiling and steady under that delirious music +of his own name rising, winged with men's hearts, to the skies. +Then the band was playing again and they were marching off down the +street together, this wonderful class that knew how to turn earth +into heaven for a fellow who hadn't done much of a stunt anyhow, +this grand, glorious, big-hearted lot of chaps who would have done +much more in his place, every soul of them--so Johnny McLean's +thoughts leaped in time with his steps as they marched away. +And once or twice a terror seized him--for he was weak yet from +his illness--that he was going to make "a fool of himself." +He remembered how the girl had cried; he thought of the way the +boys had loaded him with honor and affection; he heard the +president's voice speaking those impossible words about him-- +about him--and he would have given a large sum of money at one or two +junctures to bolt and get behind a locked door alone where he might +cry as the girl had. But the unsentimental hilarity all around saved +him and brought him through without a stain on his behavior. Only he +could not bolt--he could not get a moment to himself for love or money. +It was for love he wanted it. He must find her--he could not wait now. +But he had to wait. He had to go into the country to dinner with +them all and be lionized and made speeches at, and made fun of, and +treated as the darling child and the pride and joy and--what was harder +to bear--as the hero and the great man of the class. All the time +growing madder with restlessness, for who could tell if she might +not be leaving town! A remnant of the class ahead crossed them-- +and there was Brant, her brother. Diplomacy was not for Johnny +McLean--he was much too anxious. + +"Brant, look here," and he drew him into a comparative corner. + +"Where is she?" Brant did not pretend not to understand, +but he grinned. + +"At the Andersons', of course." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, I think so." + +"Fellows," said Johnny McLean, "I'm sorry, but I've got to sneak. +I'm going back to town." + +Sentences and scraps of sentences came flying at him from all over. +"Hold him down"--"Chain him up"--"Going--tommy-rot--can't go!" +"You'll be game for the roundup at eleven--you've got to be." +"Our darling boy--he's got to be," and more language. + +"All right for eleven," Johnny agreed. "I'll be at head-quarters +then--but I'm going now," and he went. + +He found her in a garden, which is the best place to make love. +Each place is the best. And in some mystical manner all the doubt +and unhappiness which had been gone over in labored volumes of +thoughts by each alone, melted to nothing, at two or three broken +sentences. There seemed to be nothing to say, for everything was +said in a wordless, clear mode of understanding, which lovers and +saints know. There was little plot to it, yet there was no lack +of interest. In fact so light-footed were the swift moments in the +rose-scented dark garden that Johnny McLean forgot, as others have +forgotten before him, that time was. He forgot that magnificent +lot of fellows, his classmates; there was not a circumstance +outside of the shadowy garden which he did not whole-heartedly +forget. Till a shock brought him to. + +The town was alive with bands and cheers and shouts and marching; +the distinct noises rose and fell and fused and separated, but kept +their distance. When one body of sound, which unnoticed by the +lovers had been growing less vague, more compact, broke all at +once into loud proximity--men marching, men shouting, men singing. +The two, hand tight in hand, started, looked at each other, +listened--and then a name came in a dozen sonorous voices, +as they used to shout it in college days, across the Berkeley Oval. + +"McLean! McLean!" they called. + +"Oh, Johnny McLean!" and "Come out there, oh, Johnny McLean!" +That was Baby Thomas. + +"By Jove, they've trapped me," he said, smiling in the dark and +holding the hand tighter as the swinging steps stopped in front +of the house of the garden. "Brant must have told." + +"They've certainly found you," the girl said. Her arms, +lifted slowly, went about his neck swiftly. "You're mine-- +but you're theirs to-night. I haven't a right to so much of +you even. You're theirs. Go." And she held him. But in a +second she had pushed him away. "Go," she said. "You're +theirs, bless every one of them." + +She was standing alone in the dark, sweet garden and there was +a roar in the street which meant that he had opened the door +and they had seen him. And with that there were shouts of +"Put him up"--"Carry him"--"Carry the boy," and laughter and +shouting and then again the measured tread of many men retreating +down the street, and men's voices singing together. The girl +in the dark garden stood laughing, crying, and listened. + +"Mother of men!"-- + +the deep voices sang-- + +"Mother of men grown strong in giving-- +Honor to him thy light have led; +Rich in the toil of thousands living, +Proud of the deeds of thousands dead! +We who have felt thy power, and known thee, +We in whose lives thy lights avail, +High, in our hearts enshrined, enthrone thee, +Mother of men, old Yale!" + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE COURAGE OF THE COMMONPLACE *** + +This file should be named courc10.txt or courc10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, courc11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, courc10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/courc10.zip b/old/courc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c494e80 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/courc10.zip |