A grand figure Perry would have made in Tantallion's towers. I forgot
the school, and the village and the valley, as I sat there looking out of
the window into the sky. I am in those towers when Marmion stops to bid
adieu, but in place of the proud Scottish noble, Perry Thomas stands
confronting the English warrior. What a pair they make--the knight armed
cap-a-pie, at his charger's side, and Perry in that close-fitting, shiny
coat that has seen so many great occasions in the valley. There is a
gracious bigness about the Englishman forgetting the cold respect with
which he has been treated and offering a mailed hand in farewell. But
Perry buttons his Prince Albert, waves his brown derby under the very
vizor of the departing guest, rests easily on his right leg, bends the
left knee slightly, folds his arms and speaks. "Burned Marmion's swarthy
cheek like fire." Little wonder! If Perry Thomas spoke to me like that
I'd cleave his head. But Marmion spares proud Angus. He beards the
Doogulus in his hall. He dashes the rowels in his steed, dodges the
portcullis, and gallops over the draw. And Perry Thomas is left standing
with folded arms, gazing through the chalk-dust haze into the solemn,
wide open eyes of the children of Six Stars.

[Illustration: Perry Thomas stands confronting the English warrior.]




IX

Perry's head was close to mine, over my table. The school was studying
louder than ever, and our voices could not have gone beyond the
platform; but my friend was cautious. The scholars might well have