Cherry

CONTENTS: IntroductionLoveThe Human IntellectMr. Sudgeberry's Reckless HumorThe Dogs of WarMr. Sudgeberry And The Cherry Ribbons a selection from the INTRODUCTION: ACROSS the most vital precincts of the mind a flippant sprite of memory will sometimes skip, to the dismay of all philosophy. So it was with me no longer ago than last night; for, as I sat engaged in the composition of a treatise upon a subject worthy of the profoundest concentration, there suddenly fluttered before my mental eye some cherry-colored ribbons; and, quite inexplicably, at the same time, it became clear to me that the most charming morning of my life was that sunshiny one, in 1762, when Miss Sylvia Gray and I went walking. It may be there are some who will declare that an aging person would do better to get forward with his treatise than to waste the treasure of his talent upon a narrative of the follies of youth; but this I refute. The flicker of cherry color having caused my pen to wander and me to have dreams all night--I never dream--what better than to seek relief by setting down the bewildering circumstances connected with the ribbons? Let me say that I have found through many experiences that writing out a thing works to lighten the burden of it, as a full-worded person must be bled of his words, or they coagulate within him and choke the veins of his mind, a condition which, in my younger days, was often near bringing me to the very italics of suffering. Very early on the sunshiny morning to which allusion has been made, I found Miss Sylvia at her gate, waiting to take the walk she had promised me. It was then, even before we set out, that I noticed the ribbons she wore that day. The fact that I remember a detail of this insignificance so great a number of years after is the more uncommon because I do not think that at the time I particularly noticed the ribbons, my mind being occupied with considerations of the lady's mental and moral attributes. However, it may not be gainsaid that this twinkling of bright colors seemed to me most befitting her appearance. I had arrived at my father's house in the country but two days before, repairing thither upon finishing my third year of study at Nassau Hall, and I had proceeded at once to renew my pleasing acquaintance with Miss Gray, an acquaintance begun in childhood on account of our parents being neighbors, and continued later because of various betokenings of a feeling of growing admiration and reciprocal regard, clearly apparent, I think, between the maiden and myself. There was another lady of the neighborhood. Miss Amelia Robbins t who attracted me by the delicacy of her appreciation of my attentions, but at the time of which I speak my greater pleasure was in Miss Sylvia's company I might put it: my infinitely greater pleasure.