REDDY ARMSTRONG'S REFORMATION
principally for that ever since his great-grandfather came over the mountains from Virginia for more room and fresh blue-grass. He knew no other sort of boyhood, and he did not know what to think of the boys he met when he first came North to school.
Because he was small, and ugly, and mischievous, and witty, and generous to excess, and quick to think and act, and everything else that red-headed Freshmen are expected to be, he was well known and liked in the class, from the first night of the term, when he turned his trustful blue eyes toward the Sophomore standing over him in the corner, and said in sweet, sad, Southern tones: "I declare, I'm mighty sorry I can't sing. But that big fellow over there can."
He became well loved, too, by those who got near enough to him to see the good stuff in him. But it did not become deep respect and universal regard until he was an upper-classman, and became a well-known orator in Whig Hall. But that was not until after his reformation.
Certain well-meaning members of the
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