CHAPTER XXVI.

IN HONOR OF THE RECONCILIATION.

There was evidently a conspiracy to make a rich man of me; and, if there had been any more magnates in the vicinity, I should certainly have expected a contribution from all of them. Vast as were the sums bestowed upon me, a poor boy, these were really but drops in the bucket to the _millionnaires_ who gave them. I could find no excuse for the liberality of Major Toppleton, but I concluded not to quarrel with my destiny. The magnate of Middleport was certainly in condition to do business when he made the gift, and I was not willing to hurt his feelings by declining the princely present.

On the trip down to Ucayga I completed the programme for the new line. The trip from one end of the lake to the other was to be run in less than three hours, with time enough to spare to make up for a ten minutes’ detention in both steamer and the railroad. The Ucayga was to leave Hitaca at seven in the morning, which was quite a reasonable hour. Connecting with the train at Middleport at nine, passengers were to reach Ucayga in ample time for the trains. On the return of the cars at eleven, the boat was to leave Middleport for Hitaca, and come back immediately, leaving Middleport for the last trip up the lake at five, and arriving at seven. The ferries were to convey passengers across the lake from Ruoara and Centreport. I was abundantly pleased with the programme, and was sure it would give satisfaction to all parties.

On the arrival of the boat at Ucayga, I was rather surprised to see a couple of brass field-pieces on the wharf, ready to be rolled on board. The appearance of Tommy Toppleton explained the meaning of them, though they were to be allowed to speak for themselves in the course of the day. Tommy, who was in full uniform as the colonel of the regiment, came up to me, on the hurricane deck. He was as lively and cheerful as the occasion required. He had seen Waddie, and the regiment was to form at Centreport in season for the festivities. He had procured the services of a detachment of the Ucayga Artillery to fire the salutes, which Waddie had suggested.

“We are going to make a big time of it,” said Tommy, with enthusiasm. “We have engaged the band here, besides the one that belongs to the regiment-- There they come. Waddie is going to have a grand collation in the grove near his father’s house. If we don’t wake things up, it will be because we haven’t spunk enough to do it.”

“It’s a big thing, Tommy,” I mildly suggested.

“That’s so, Wolf; and more than anybody else, you have brought it about.”

“Well, we have all been peacemakers,” I modestly added.

“I never expected to see the day when my father and Colonel Wimpleton would shake hands and dine together. We will let off a hundred guns at six o’clock, when the two families sit down to supper,” added Tommy. “By the way, Wolf, this is a splendid thing for me.”

“It is for all of us.”

“Well, I mean for me in particular,” replied he, significantly.

“Why?”

“You needn’t try to be dull, Wolf. Wasn’t Colonel Wimpleton after me with a sharp stick the day we went down to Grass Springs?”

“O, you mean Miss Minnie?”

“To be sure I do--you are not stupid. I think Minnie is the prettiest girl in the state, and if I ever marry anybody, she will be my wife--that is, if she consents;” and Tommy’s under jaw dropped a little, as though he realized that he had been talking too fast.

I told him I would guarantee her consent for one and a half per cent. of two and sixpence, whereat his face livened up again. I asked him into the state-room to examine the programme of the new line. He indorsed it on the part of the Railroad Company.

As the boat approached Centreport we saw that there was an unusual stir on the wharf. The battalion from Middleport was landing, and the other was drawn up on the shore. Tommy prinked up his uniform, threw back his shoulders, and looked as soldierly as possible. His sorrel pony stood waiting for him, and Waddie was already mounted. As soon as the steamer touched the wharf I left her, and hastened to see the preparations for the great occasion.

“You are to ride in the barouche with the Toppletons, Wolf,” said Waddie, dashing his fiery steed up to me as soon as I appeared, so furious that I trembled for my corns, for these military people are always very impressive.

“Thank you, Waddie. I suppose I could walk, on a pinch.”

“No pinch about it; you must be escorted up to the house with our guests.”

“All right; I surrender,” I replied; when a toot from a trumpet startled his horse, and again imperilled my corns.

Tom Walton was sailing the Toppletons over in the Belle, which had nearly reached the shore. I was not posted in regard to the order of exercises, and I watched the proceedings with interest. The regiment was drawn up in line, with the band at the head. Colonel Wimpleton’s barouche was at the end of the wharf, ready to receive the honored guests. The field officers were all mounted, and they kept flashing up and down the line, just as though something would burst if they did not make haste, and look especially savage. They could not have been more impressive if they had been engaged in a great battle upon which the fate of the nation depended.

As the Belle drew near the landing stairs, I hastened to greet the Toppletons. I had never seen Grace look prettier or more interesting, and the smile she bestowed upon me was a rapture to me. I assisted her out of the boat and up the steps to the carriage. Mrs. Toppleton and Grace occupied the back seat, while the major and myself sat on the front seat. Adjutant Briscoe mounted the box, to see that the driver complied with all the military forms.

“Present--arms!” shouted Colonel Tommy Toppleton, as the carriage started.

The major and I uncovered, while the ladies waved their handkerchiefs. The band played “Hail to the Chief,” though who the particular chief was I had no means of knowing. We passed the line, and the adjutant in charge of our party directed the driver to draw up at the side of the road. Half the regiment then marched by us, and a guard of honor, composed of twelve sergeants, was stationed on each side of the barouche.

“Forward--march!” shouted Colonel Tommy Toppleton.

“Drive on,” added Briscoe; and the procession moved off.

Somewhat to the annoyance, perhaps, of the major and his lady, the line of march was through the principal streets of Centreport, and of course the sensation was tremendous. But, as the young peacemakers desired to make this display, no objection was offered by the guests, and in the carriage we voted that we were first-class lions. The procession entered the grounds of Colonel Wimpleton, and when the carriage stopped at the door of the mansion, the magnate and his lady appeared to welcome their guests. It was the first time the wives of the two magnates had met for many years; and, as they had not shared in the enmity of their husbands, the occasion was a joyful one to them. We were ushered into the drawing-room, and as the clock struck six, dinner was announced. At this moment, Colonel Tommy Toppleton and Lieutenant Colonel Waddie Wimpleton entered the room.

“Bang! bang!” spoke the guns which had been stationed in the grove, with a concussion that shook the windows of the house, and was rather trying to the nerves of the ladies.

At the same time the Ucayga band struck up “Met again,” a familiar Sunday school air, known to everybody in that vicinity. Colonel Wimpleton gave his arm to Mrs. Toppleton, and Major Toppleton escorted Mrs. Wimpleton to the dinner table. Tommy took Miss Minnie, and I offered my arm to Miss Grace. Waddie, who seemed to be out in the cold, conducted one of his younger sisters, while the clergyman who had been invited led the other. When the party were seated, the minister said grace, in which he briefly alluded to the reconciliation, while the booming guns and the melodious strains still celebrated the happy event.

The dinner was a splendid affair, and, for one, I did full justice to it, for I have a weakness for good dinners, especially when they are given in honor of great events. The conversation soon became general, and the best feeling in the world prevailed. We talked of the events of the past, as well as of the present, and the reconciliation was perfect. I need not attempt to tell how much I enjoyed the society of Grace, who sat at my side.

After dinner, the party walked out into the grove, where the gallant soldiers of the regiment were banqueting in honor of the occasion. Grace leaned on my arm, and we had a delightful chat. When she called me Mr. Wolf, I asked her to omit the “Mr.,” which she was kind enough to do.

“I suppose you know, Wolf, that you have done more than any one else to bring about this happy event,” said she.

“I know that I have had it in my mind for several years. Your father wanted to continue the railroad to Hitaca, or build a new steamer; but I always advised him to do neither. I have tried to prevent quarrels; but, Grace, I think you have been the inspiration, in part at least, of my conduct. If you only approve it, I am happy.”

“I do approve it, with all my heart,” she replied, blushing.

I had not the courage to utter all that I felt, but I was sure that she had a very kind regard for me.

At eight o’clock the regiment again formed in line, and we were escorted down to the wharf, where we embarked in the Belle for Centreport. Major Toppleton had invited the Wimpletons to dine with him the next day, and the invitation had been accepted. I was not neglected.

With this happy occasion my story ought to close. The peace which was made that day was a lasting one, though, as is always the case even among the dearest friends, it was sometimes necessary for them to “BEAR AND FORBEAR.” The two families dined together, the next day, at the major’s, and the same programme was repeated, even to the parade of the regiment, the music, and the guns, that the Middleporters might make no possible mistake in regard to the reconciliation.

Handbills, announcing the new arrangement of the “Union Line,” as I called it, were immediately issued, and on the following Monday all the Wimpletons and all the Toppletons went over the new route. We went Through by Daylight; the Lightning Express was On Time, and we did not find it necessary to Switch Off or Brake Up, in the moral sense, though both were done on the Lake Shore Railroad. The travelling public were pleased with the new arrangement, and even those who had to cross the lake in the ferries did not growl, for they were amply compensated for the extra trouble by the better time.

We heard nothing more of Nick Van Wolter for two months, though he turned up at the end of that time. I had a long talk with his father about him, and he acknowledged to me that the young man’s mother was too ambitious in regard to him. Certainly her husband had proved to her that a faithful discharge of his duty in his own humble sphere was the safer course.

Colonel Wimpleton was true to his noble resolution. He drank no more; and the change in his morals was as great as in his manners. While his nature was the same, it was not depraved by intemperance, and he was a different man, though he was not always gentle and courteous.

When you find yourself indulging as he did in a bad habit, when you find your course of life is wrong in any respect, do as he did--“BRAKE UP.”

Transcriber’s Notes

• Italics represented with surrounding _underscores_.

• Small caps converted to ALL CAPS.

• Illustrations relocated close to related content.

• Page number references in illustration captions removed.

• Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.