Old Times In Middle Georgia

OLD TIMES IN MIDDLE GEORGIA - 1897 - 1 Century Ma.gazine. PAQE MR. CUMMINS ELINQUISHMENT . . 23 Century Magazine. MR. PATES ONLY INFIRBITY . . 39 Centuy dfagazine. SHADOWY FOES . . 67 Century 113agazine. THEIR COUSIN LETIIY . . 76 OLD LADY LAZENBERRY . Century Magazine. . 97 Century Mctgazine. OUR WITCH ., 116 Century Magazine. EPHE . . 155 The Outlook. A CASE OF SPITE . . 171 The Independent. MR. PEA NEARLY NONPLUSSED . . 187 Northwestern Miller. LOST . . 199 McCZures Syndicate. v CONTENTS PAGE IUTUAL SCHOOLMASTERS . . 207 Afc Clures Syndicate. MISS CLISBYS ROMANCE . . 215 Frank Leslies bfagazine. ISIJXAEL . . 233 Lippincotts Afagazine. MR. EBEN BULLS INVESTMENTS MR. EBEN BULLS INVESTMENTS A STORY OF PHILEMON PERCH For most men till by losing rendered sager Will back their own opinions by a wager. - BEPPO. SOMETIMES, when I hear people speaking of investments, I am reminded of some that, to a limited degree and without great ostentation, were wont, when I was a schoolboy of thirteen and there along, to be hazarded by a gentleman of our village in one of which, apparently promising quick and good dividends, I ventured to take a chance for myself. The Dukesborough school, kept by Mr. Whitcomb, a gentleman from Vermont, had a hundred pupils, boys and girls, the greater portion of whom were boarders. Althougli neither very strong nor well grown, I had been, during all the previous session, the swiftest runner among the boys, and it pleased me much to coincide with the general belief that I could not be overcome in a foot-race by any other boy near my age, no matter where he came from. Among the new boys who had come in at the opening of the present term was Jack Withers, a year older thanmyself, but not any taller. He had been reared thus far upon a plantation border- ing on Fulsoms Creek, seven or eight miles south of the village. If it had not been that I had come to like him so well before our trial of speed, I might have enjoyed more keenly the certain prospect of the defeat which must befall this champion of the new boys, between whom and the old there always was a rivalry which was as animated as it was brief in duration. He proved himself to be such a fine fellow that afterward I was thankful for having been so courteous in my first attentions. Having showed himself the equal of the best of the olds at all other sports, he beat, but only by a necks length, the second best of our runners. After this he was notified that on the following Friday evening, if he should choose to do so, he might contest with the best nag that the olds had to present. The liking I had for this new boy led me to say to my friends that I hoped the contest might be had quietly beneath the red- oaks and hickories in the academy yard. But no. A champion, however inclined to be mod- est and forbearing, cannot control the solemn behests and mandates of his party, especially when it is ruled by such a man as Mr. Eben Bull. Since that time, long ago, I have travelled somewhat extensively both in the United States and abroad, and I can say with assurance, that I have never made acquaintance with a longer, slimmer, straighter, darker, more solemn-looking and more solemn-speaking person than Mr. Eben Bull. Not that, in point of fact, he was so very, very solemn...