" We
all placed ourselves in a listening attitude, and the old man began as
follows: "I was born in the town of Littleton in this State, and when a
boy, I had one school-mate, whom I could have loved no better had he
been a brother. His name was Arthur Sinclair. And the affectionate
intimacy which existed between us for many years is yet to me a green
spot in the waste of memory. I was about twelve years of age when
Arthur's parents came to reside in Littleton. That now large and
thriving village then contained but a few houses, and when the Sinclairs
became our neighbours, we soon formed a very pleasing acquaintance. I
was an only child, and had never been much given to making companions of
the neighbouring boys of my own age; but from the first I felt strongly
attracted toward Arthur Sinclair. He was two years younger than myself.
At the time when I first met him he was the most perfect specimen of
childish beauty I ever saw, and added to this he possessed a most
winning and affectionate disposition, and in a short time we became
almost inseparable companions. My nature was distant and reserved, but
if once I made a friend, my affection for him was deep and abiding. We
occupied the same desk in the village school, and often conned our daily
lessons from the same book, and out of school hours, shared the same
sports; and I remember once hearing our teacher laughingly remark to my
parents, that he believed, should he find it necessary to correct one of
us, the other would beg to share the punishment.
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