as I happen to know, has repaid the money which George lent him wherewith to finish his education in Germany.  The estimable matrons of Lincoln who made so much ado over George’s ruining these young men,—­who had such bright intellects and might have been expected to do something but for that dreadfully well read lawyer’s awful influence,—­these women do not consider it worth their while now, in the face of the facts as they have turned out, to remember their predictions, but confine themselves to making their dismal prophecies anew in regard to the three young fellows whom George has of late taken up.  But then I remember how they went on about Perry Tomson and me in the early part of our Junior year, when we began to enjoy the favor of George’s friendship; and if their miserable croaking never does any good, I fancy it will never work any very great harm:  so one might as well let them croak in peace.  In fact, one would more easily dam the waters of Niagara than stop them, and George, I know, doesn’t care the cork of an empty beer-bottle what they say of him.

I have never tried to analyze the influence for good George had over us, or account for it in any way, nor do I care to.  I have always considered his friendship for me as one of the pleasantest and most profitable experiences of my life in Lincoln.  Perry and I were always more close and loving friends, and cared for George with a silent but abiding sense of gratitude in addition to the other sources of our affection for him, after he showed us the boyish foolishness of our quarrel about Lucretia Knowles.  Of course I ought not to have grown angry at Perry’s good-natured cynicism; for how could he have imagined that I cared for her?  Though I sometimes think, even now, that Perry was indeed anxious lest I should fall in love with her, and wanted to ridicule me out of the notion, and I fear, in spite of his acquaintance, that he disapproves of our engagement.  I wonder if he will ever get over his prejudice against women.  The dear old fellow! if he would only consent to know Lucretia better I am sure he would.

One night in the winter before we graduated, Perry and I went with George to the Third House, which is a mock session of the legislature that the political wags of the State take advantage of to display their wit and quickness at repartee and ability to make artistic fools of themselves.  If it happens to be a year for the election of a senator, as it was in this case, the different candidates are in turn made fun of and held up to ridicule or approval; and the chief issues of the time are handled without gloves in a way that is always amusing and often worth while in showing the ridiculous nature of some of them.  The Third House is usually held on some evening during the first or second week of the session, and is opened by the Speaker calling the house to order with a thundering racket of the gavel—­“made from the wood of trees grown on the prairies of the State”—­and