A shorthand writer, my work was now to take down letters from dictation,
a remove only for the better from the old way of writing from pencilled
drafts.
Now it was that I made my first sincere and lasting friendship, a
friendship true and deep, but which was destined to last for only ten
short years. Tom was never robust and Death's cold hand closed all too
soon a loveable and useful life. Our friendship was close and intimate,
such as is formed in the warmth of youth and which the grave alone
dissolves. To me, during those short years, it lent brightness and
gaiety to existence; and, in the days that have followed, its memory has
been, and is now, a rich possession.
With both Tom and me it was friendship at first sight, and nothing until
the final severance came ever disturbed its course. He came from Lincoln
and joined the office I was in. He was two years my senior and had the
advantage of several years' experience in station work which I had not.
We were much alike in our tastes and habits, yet there was enough of
difference between us to impart a relish to our friendship. Indifferent
health, for he was delicate too, was one of the bonds between us.
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