the following afternoon a eulogy would be delivered
on me in the chapel.

The eulogy was delivered before members of our society and others,
the next afternoon, in the chapel. I need not say that I was present.
Indeed, I was perched on the desk within reach of the speaker's hand.
The apotheosis was pronounced by my most intimate friend, Timmins, and
I must say he did me ample justice. He never was accustomed to "draw it
very mild" (to use a vulgarism which I dislike) when he had his head,
and on this occasion he entered into the matter with the zeal of a true
friend, and a young man who never expected to have another occasion
to sing a public "In Memoriam." It made my hair stand on
end,--metaphorically, of course. From my childhood I had been extremely
precocious. There were anecdotes of preternatural brightness, picked
up, Heaven knows where, of my eagerness to learn, of my adventurous,
chivalrous young soul, and of my arduous struggles with chill penury,
which was not able (as it appeared) to repress my rage, until I entered
this institution, of which I had been ornament, pride, cynosure, and
fair promising bud blasted while yet its fragrance was mingled with the
dew of its youth. Once launched upon my college days, Timmins went
on with all sails spread. I had, as it were, to hold on to the pulpit
cushion. Latin, Greek, the old literatures, I was perfect master of; all
history was merely a light repast to me; mathematics I glanced at, and
it disappeared; in the clouds of modern philosophy I was wrapped but not
obscured; over the field of light literature I familiarly roamed as
the honey-bee over the wide fields of clover which blossom white in the
Junes of this world! My life was pure, my character spotless, my name
was inscribed among the names of those deathless few who were not born
to die!

It was a noble eulogy, and I felt before he finished, though I had
misgivings at the beginning, that I deserved it all. The effect on the
audience was a little different. They said it was a "strong" oration,
and I think Timmins got more credit by it than I did. After the
performance they stood about the chapel, talking in a subdued tone, and
seemed to be a good deal impressed by what they had heard, or perhaps by
thoughts of the departed. At least they all soon went over to Austin's
and called for beer. My particular friends called for it twice. Then
they all lit pipes. The old grocery keeper was good enough to say that
I wa