diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:46 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:46 -0700 |
| commit | 56e887cae54a4ec3bbe259f83b206a630f08acc5 (patch) | |
| tree | f78ea6bdf2e87dec6931e0bf64b0b1e4c35510b1 /3243-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '3243-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3243-h/3243-h.htm | 9086 |
1 files changed, 9086 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3243-h/3243-h.htm b/3243-h/3243-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..53cf87f --- /dev/null +++ b/3243-h/3243-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9086 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Glengarry School Days, by Ralph Connor</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Glengarry School Days, by Ralph Connor</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Glengarry School Days</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ralph Connor</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 28, 2001 [eBook #3243]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 3, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Donald Lainson and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLENGARRY SCHOOL DAYS ***</div> + + <h1> + GLENGARRY SCHOOL DAYS + </h1> + <h2> + <br /> A STORY OF THE EARLY DAYS IN GLENGARRY <br /> <br /> By Ralph Connor + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. THE SPELLING-MATCH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. THE DEEPOLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. THE EXAMINATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. THE NEW MASTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. THE CRISIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. “ONE THAT RULETH WELL HIS OWN HOUSE”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. FOXY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. FOXY'S PARTNER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. HUGHIE'S EMANCIPATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. THE BEAR HUNT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. JOHN CRAVEN'S METHOD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. THE DOWNFALL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. THE FIRST ROUND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTER XIV. THE FINAL ROUND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. THE RESULT</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + <hr /> + + <h2> + GLENGARRY SCHOOL DAYS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE SPELLING-MATCH + </h3> + <p> + The “Twentieth” school was built of logs hewn on two sides. The cracks + were chinked and filled with plaster, which had a curious habit of falling + out during the summer months, no one knew how; but somehow the holes + always appeared on the boys' side, and being there, were found to be most + useful, for as looking out of the window was forbidden, through these + holes the boys could catch glimpses of the outer world—glimpses + worth catching, too, for all around stood the great forest, the playground + of boys and girls during noon-hour and recesses; an enchanted land, + peopled, not by fairies, elves, and other shadowy beings of fancy, but + with living things, squirrels, and chipmunks, and weasels, chattering + ground-hogs, thumping rabbits, and stealthy foxes, not to speak of a host + of flying things, from the little gray-bird that twittered its happy + nonsense all day, to the big-eyed owl that hooted solemnly when the moon + came out. A wonderful place this forest, for children to live in, to know, + and to love, and in after days to long for. + </p> + <p> + It was Friday afternoon, and the long, hot July day was drawing to a weary + close. Mischief was in the air, and the master, Archibald Munro, or + “Archie Murro,” as the boys called him, was holding himself in with a very + firm hand, the lines about his mouth showing that he was fighting back the + pain which had never quite left him from the day he had twisted his knee + out of joint five years ago, in a wrestling match, and which, in his weary + moments, gnawed into his vitals. He hated to lose his grip of himself, for + then he knew he should have to grow stern and terrifying, and rule these + young imps in the forms in front of him by what he called afterwards, in + his moments of self-loathing, “sheer brute force,” and that he always + counted a defeat. + </p> + <p> + Munro was a born commander. His pale, intellectual face, with its square + chin and firm mouth, its noble forehead and deep-set gray eyes, carried a + look of such strength and indomitable courage that no boy, however big, + ever thought of anything but obedience when the word of command came. He + was the only master who had ever been able to control, without at least + one appeal to the trustees, the stormy tempers of the young giants that + used to come to school in the winter months. + </p> + <p> + The school never forgot the day when big Bob Fraser “answered back” in + class. For, before the words were well out of his lips, the master, with a + single stride, was in front of him, and laying two swift, stinging cuts + from the rawhide over big Bob's back, commanded, “Hold out your hand!” in + a voice so terrible, and with eyes of such blazing light, that before Bob + was aware, he shot out his hand and stood waiting the blow. The school + never, in all its history, received such a thrill as the next few moments + brought; for while Bob stood waiting, the master's words fell clear-cut + upon the dead silence, “No, Robert, you are too big to thrash. You are a + man. No man should strike you—and I apologize.” And then big Bob + forgot his wonted sheepishness and spoke out with a man's voice, “I am + sorry I spoke back, sir.” And then all the girls began to cry and wipe + their eyes with their aprons, while the master and Bob shook hands + silently. From that day and hour Bob Fraser would have slain any one + offering to make trouble for the master, and Archibald Munro's rule was + firmly established. + </p> + <p> + He was just and impartial in all his decisions, and absolute in his + control; and besides, he had the rare faculty of awakening in his pupils + an enthusiasm for work inside the school and for sports outside. + </p> + <p> + But now he was holding himself in, and with set teeth keeping back the + pain. The week had been long and hot and trying, and this day had been the + worst of all. Through the little dirty panes of the uncurtained windows + the hot sun had poured itself in a flood of quivering light all the long + day. Only an hour remained of the day, but that hour was to the master the + hardest of all the week. The big boys were droning lazily over their + books, the little boys, in the forms just below his desk, were bubbling + over with spirits—spirits of whose origin there was no reasonable + ground for doubt. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Hughie Murray, the minister's boy, a very special imp, held up + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hughie,” said the master, for the tenth time within the hour + replying to the signal. + </p> + <p> + “Spelling-match!” + </p> + <p> + The master hesitated. It would be a vast relief, but it was a little like + shirking. On all sides, however, hands went up in support of Hughie's + proposal, and having hesitated, he felt he must surrender or become + terrifying at once. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he said; “Margaret Aird and Thomas Finch will act as + captains.” At once there was a gleeful hubbub. Slates and books were slung + into desks. + </p> + <p> + “Order! or no spelling-match.” The alternative was awful enough to quiet + even the impish Hughie, who knew the tone carried no idle threat, and who + loved a spelling-match with all the ardor of his little fighting soul. + </p> + <p> + The captains took their places on each side of the school, and with + careful deliberation, began the selecting of their men, scanning anxiously + the rows of faces looking at the maps or out of the windows and bravely + trying to seem unconcerned. Chivalry demanded that Margaret should have + first choice. “Hughie Murray!” called out Margaret; for Hughie, though + only eight years old, had preternatural gifts in spelling; his mother's + training had done that for him. At four he knew every Bible story by + heart, and would tolerate no liberties with the text; at six he could read + the third reader; at eight he was the best reader in the fifth; and to do + him justice, he thought no better of himself for that. It was no trick to + read. If he could only run, and climb, and swim, and dive, like the big + boys, then he would indeed feel uplifted; but mere spelling and reading, + “Huh! that was nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Ranald Macdonald!” called Thomas Finch, and a big, lanky boy of fifteen + or sixteen rose and marched to his place. He was a boy one would look at + twice. He was far from handsome. His face was long, and thin, and dark, + with a straight nose, and large mouth, and high cheek-bones; but he had + fine black eyes, though they were fierce, and had a look in them that + suggested the woods and the wild things that live there. But Ranald, + though his attendance was spasmodic, and dependent upon the suitability or + otherwise of the weather for hunting, was the best speller in the school. + </p> + <p> + For that reason Margaret would have chosen him, and for another which she + would not for worlds have confessed, even to herself. And do you think she + would have called Ranald Macdonald to come and stand up beside her before + all these boys? Not for the glory of winning the match and carrying the + medal for a week. But how gladly would she have given up glory and medal + for the joy of it, if she had dared. + </p> + <p> + At length the choosing was over, and the school ranged in two opposing + lines, with Margaret and Thomas at the head of their respective forces, + and little Jessie MacRae and Johnnie Aird, with a single big curl on the + top of his head, at the foot. It was a point of honor that no blood should + be drawn at the first round. To Thomas, who had second choice, fell the + right of giving the first word. So to little Jessie, at the foot, he gave + “Ox.” + </p> + <p> + “O-x, ox,” whispered Jessie, shyly dodging behind her neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “In!” said Margaret to Johnnie Aird. + </p> + <p> + “I-s, in,” said Johnnie, stoutly. + </p> + <p> + “Right!” said the master, silencing the shout of laughter. “Next word.” + </p> + <p> + With like gentle courtesies the battle began; but in the second round the + little A, B, C's were ruthlessly swept off the field with second-book + words, and retired to their seats in supreme exultation, amid the applause + of their fellows still left in the fight. After that there was no mercy. + It was a give-and-take battle, the successful speller having the right to + give the word to the opposite side. The master was umpire, and after his + “Next!” had fallen there was no appeal. But if a mistake were made, it was + the opponent's part and privilege to correct with all speed, lest a second + attempt should succeed. + </p> + <p> + Steadily, and amid growing excitement, the lines grew less, till there + were left on one side, Thomas, with Ranald supporting him, and on the + other Margaret, with Hughie beside her, his face pale, and his dark eyes + blazing with the light of battle. + </p> + <p> + Without varying fortune the fight went on. Margaret, still serene, and + with only a touch of color in her face, gave out her words with even + voice, and spelled her opponent's with calm deliberation. Opposite her + Thomas stood, stolid, slow, and wary. He had no nerves to speak of, and + the only chance of catching him lay in lulling him off to sleep. + </p> + <p> + They were now among the deadly words. + </p> + <p> + “Parallelopiped!” challenged Hughie to Ranald, who met it easily, giving + Margaret “hyphen” in return. + </p> + <p> + “H-y-p-h-e-n,” spelled Margaret, and then, with cunning carelessness, gave + Thomas “heifer.” (“Hypher,” she called it.) + </p> + <p> + Thomas took it lightly. + </p> + <p> + “H-e-i-p-h-e-r.” + </p> + <p> + Like lightning Hughie was upon him. “H-e-i-f-e-r.” + </p> + <p> + “F-e-r,” shouted Thomas. The two yells came almost together. + </p> + <p> + There was a deep silence. All eyes were turned upon the master. + </p> + <p> + “I think Hughie was first,” he said, slowly. A great sigh swept over the + school, and then a wave of applause. + </p> + <p> + The master held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “But it was so very nearly a tie, that if Hughie is willing—” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” cried Hughie, eager for more fight. + </p> + <p> + But Thomas, in sullen rage, strode to his seat muttering, “I was just as + soon anyway.” Every one heard and waited, looking at the master. + </p> + <p> + “The match is over,” said the master, quietly. Great disappointment showed + in every face. + </p> + <p> + “There is just one thing better than winning, and that is, taking defeat + like a man.” His voice was grave, and with just a touch of sadness. The + children, sensitive to moods, as is the characteristic of children, felt + the touch and sat subdued and silent. + </p> + <p> + There was no improving of the occasion, but with the same sad gravity the + school was dismissed; and the children learned that day one of life's + golden lessons—that the man who remains master of himself never + knows defeat. + </p> + <p> + The master stood at the door watching the children go down the slope to + the road, and then take their ways north and south, till the forest hid + them from his sight. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he muttered, stretching up his arms and drawing a great breath, + “it's over for another week. A pretty near thing, though.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + THE DEEPOLE + </h3> + <p> + Archibald Munro had a steady purpose in life—to play the man, and to + allow no pain of his—and pain never left him long—to spoil his + work, or to bring a shadow to the life of any other. And though he had his + hard times, no one who could not read the lines about his mouth ever knew + how hard they were. + </p> + <p> + It was this struggle for self-mastery that made him the man he was, and + taught him the secrets of nobleness that he taught his pupils with their + three “R's”; and this was the best of his work for the Twentieth school. + </p> + <p> + North and south in front of the school the road ran through the deep + forest of great pines, with underbrush of balsam and spruce and + silver-birch; but from this main road ran little blazed paths that led to + the farm clearings where lay the children's homes. Here and there, set in + their massive frames of dark green forest, lay the little farms, the tiny + fenced fields surrounding the little log houses and barns. These were the + homes of a people simple of heart and manners, but sturdy, clean living, + and clear thinking, with their brittle Highland courage toughened to + endurance by their long fight with the forest, and with a self-respect + born of victory over nature's grimmest of terrors. + </p> + <p> + A mile straight south of the school stood the manse, which was Hughie's + home; two miles straight west Ranald lived; and Thomas Finch two miles + north; while the other lads ought to have taken some of the little paths + that branched east from the main road. But this evening, with one accord, + the boys chose a path that led from the school-house clearing straight + southwest through the forest. + </p> + <p> + What a path that was! Beaten smooth with the passing of many bare feet, it + wound through the brush and round the big pines, past the haunts of + squirrels, black, gray, and red, past fox holes and woodchuck holes, under + birds' nests and bee-trees, and best of all, it brought up at last at the + Deep Hole, or “Deepole,” as the boys called it. + </p> + <p> + There were many reasons why the boys should have gone straight home. They + were expected home. There were cows to get up from the pasture and to + milk, potatoes that needed hoeing, gardens to weed, not to speak of + messages and the like. But these were also excellent reasons why the boys + should unanimously choose the cool, smooth-beaten, sweet-scented, shady + path that wound and twisted through the trees and brush, but led straight + to the Deepole. Besides, this was Friday night, it was hot, and they were + tired out; the mere thought of the long walk home was intolerable. The + Deepole was only two miles away, and “There was lots of time” for anything + else. So, with wild whoops, they turned into the shady path and sped + through the forest, the big boys in front, with Ranald easily leading, for + there was no runner so swift and tireless in all the country-side, and + Hughie, with the small boys, panting behind. + </p> + <p> + On they went, a long, straggling, yelling line, down into the cedar swamp, + splashing through the “Little Crick” and up again over the beech ridge, + where, in the open woods, the path grew indistinct and was easy to lose; + then again among the great pines, where the underbrush was so thick that + you could not tell what might be just before, till they pulled up at the + old Lumber Camp. The boys always paused at the ruins of the old Lumber + Camp. A ruin is ever a place of mystery, but to the old Lumber Camp + attached an awful dread, for behind it, in the thickest part of the + underbrush, stood the cabin of Alan Gorrach. + </p> + <p> + Alan's was a name of terror among all the small children of the section. + Mothers hushed their crying with, “Alan Gorrach will get you.” Alan was a + small man, short in the legs, but with long, swinging, sinewy arms. He had + a gypsy face, and tangled, long, black hair; and as he walked through the + forest he might be heard talking to himself, with wild gesticulations. He + was an itinerant cooper by trade, and made for the farmers' wives their + butter-tubs and butter-ladles, mincing-bowls and coggies, and for the men, + whip-stalks, axe handles, and the like. But in the boys' eyes he was + guilty of a horrible iniquity. He was a dog-killer. His chief business was + the doing away with dogs of ill-repute in the country; vicious dogs, + sheep-killing dogs, egg-sucking dogs, were committed to Alan's dread + custody, and often he would be seen leading off his wretched victims to + his den in the woods, whence they never returned. It was a current report + that he ate them, too. No wonder the boys regarded him with horror mingled + with fearful awe. + </p> + <p> + In broad day, upon the high road, the small boys would boldly fling taunts + and stones at Alan, till he would pull out his long, sharp cooper's knife + and make at them. But if they met him in the woods they would walk past in + trembling and respectful silence, or slip off into hiding in the bush, + till he was out of sight. + </p> + <p> + It was always part of the programme in the exploring of the Lumber Camp + for the big boys to steal down the path to Alan's cabin, and peer + fearfully through the brush, and then come rushing back to the little boys + waiting in the clearing, and crying in terror-stricken stage whispers, + “He's coming! He's coming!” set off again through the bush like hunted + deer, followed by the panting train of youngsters, with their small hearts + thumping hard against their ribs. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes the pine woods, with its old Lumber Camp and Alan's + fearsome cabin, were left behind; and then down along the flats where the + big elms were, and the tall ash-trees, and the alders, the flying, panting + line sped on in a final dash, for they could smell the river. In a moment + more they were at the Deepole. + </p> + <p> + O! that Deepole! Where the big creek took a great sweep around before it + tore over the rapids and down into the gorge. It was always in cool shade; + the great fan-topped elm-trees hung far out over it, and the alders and + the willows edged its banks. How cool and clear the dark brown waters + looked! And how beautiful the golden mottling on their smooth, flowing + surface, where the sun rained down through the over-spreading elm boughs! + And the grassy sward where the boys tore off their garments, and whence + they raced and plunged, was so green and firm and smooth under foot! And + the music of the rapids down in the gorge, and the gurgle of the water + where it sucked in under the jam of dead wood before it plunged into the + boiling pool farther down! Not that the boys made note of all these + delights accessory to the joys of the Deepole itself, but all these helped + to weave the spell that the swimming-hole cast over them. Without the + spreading elms, without the mottled, golden light upon the cool, deep + waters, and without the distant roar of the little rapid, and the soft + gurgle at the jam, the Deepole would still have been a place of purest + delight, but I doubt if, without these, it would have stolen in among + their day dreams in after years, on hot, dusty, weary days, with power to + waken in them a vague pain and longing for the sweet, cool woods and the + clear, brown waters. Oh, for one plunge! To feel the hug of the waters, + their soothing caress, their healing touch! These boys are men now, such + as are on the hither side of the darker river, but not a man of them can + think, on a hot summer day, of that cool, shaded, mottled Deepole, without + a longing in his heart and a lump in his throat. + </p> + <p> + The last quarter of a mile was always a dead race, for it was a point of + distinction to be the first to plunge, and the last few seconds of the + race were spent in the preliminaries of the disrobing. A single brace + slipped off the shoulder, a flutter of a shirt over the head, a kick of + the trousers, and whoop! plunge! “Hurrah! first in.” The little boys + always waited to admire the first series of plunges, for there were many + series before the hour was over, and then they would off to their own + crossing, going through a similar performance on a small scale. + </p> + <p> + What an hour it was! What contests of swimming and diving! What water + fights and mud fights! What careering of figures, stark naked, through the + rushes and trees! What larks and pranks! + </p> + <p> + And then the little boys would dress. A simple process, but more difficult + by far than the other, for the trousers would stick to the wet feet—no + boy would dream of a towel, nor dare to be guilty of such a piece of + “stuck-upness”—and the shirt would get wrong side out, or would + bundle round the neck, or would cling to the wet shoulders till they had + to get on their knees almost to squirm into it. But that over, all was + over. The brace, or if the buttons were still there, the braces were + easily jerked up on the shoulders, and there you were. Coats, boots, and + stockings were superfluous, collars and ties utterly despised. + </p> + <p> + Then the little ones would gather on the grassy bank to watch the big ones + get out, which was a process worth watching. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm going out, boys,” one would say. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw! let's have another plunge.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. But it's the last, though.” + </p> + <p> + Then a long stream of naked figures would scramble up the bank and rush + for the last place. “First out, last in,” was the rule, for the boys would + much rather jump on some one else than be jumped on themselves. After the + long line of naked figures had vanished into the boiling water, one would + be seen quietly stealing out and up the bank kicking his feet clean as he + stepped off the projecting root onto the grass, when, plunk! a mud ball + caught him, and back he must come. It took them full two hours to escape + clean from the water, and woe betide the boy last out. On all sides stood + boys, little and big, with mud balls ready to fling, till, out of sheer + pity, he would be allowed to come forth clean. Then, when all were + dressed, and blue and shivering—for two amphibious hours, even on a + July day, make one blue—more games would begin, leap-frog, or tag, + or jumping, or climbing trees, till they were warm enough to set out for + home. + </p> + <p> + It was as the little ones were playing tag that Hughie came to grief. He + was easily king of his company and led the game. Quick as a weasel, swift + and wary, he was always the last to be caught. Around the trees, and out + and in among the big boys, he led the chase, much to Tom Finch's disgust, + who had not forgotten the spelling-match incident. Not that he cared for + the defeat, but he still felt the bite in the master's final words, and he + carried a grudge against the boy who had been the occasion of his + humiliation. + </p> + <p> + “Keep off!” he cried, angrily, as Hughie swung himself round him. But + Hughie paid no heed to Tom's growl, unless, indeed, to repeat his offense, + with the result that, as he flew off, Tom caught him a kick that hastened + his flight and laid him flat on his back amid the laughter of the boys. + </p> + <p> + “Tom,” said Hughie, gravely and slowly, so that they all stood listening, + “do you know what you kick like?” + </p> + <p> + The boys stood waiting. + </p> + <p> + “A h-e-i-p-h-e-r.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment Tom had him by the neck, and after a cuff or two, sent him + flying, with a warning to keep to himself. + </p> + <p> + But Hughie, with a saucy answer, was off again on his game, circling as + near Tom Finch as he dared, and being as exasperating as possible, till + Tom looked as if he would like a chance to pay him off. The chance came, + for Hughie, leading the “tag,” came flying past Tom and toward the water. + Hardly realizing what he was doing, Tom stuck out his foot and caught him + flying past, and before any one knew how it had happened, poor Hughie shot + far out into the Deepole, lighting fair on his stomach. There was a great + shout of laughter, but in a moment every one was calling, “Swim, Hughie!” + “Keep your hands down!” “Don't splash like that, you fool!” “Paddle + underneath!” But Hughie was far too excited or too stunned by his fall to + do anything but splash and sputter, and sink, and rise again, only to sink + once more. In a few moments the affair became serious. + </p> + <p> + The small boys began to cry, and some of the bigger ones to undress, when + there was a cry from the elm-tree overhanging the water. + </p> + <p> + “Run out that board, Don. Quick!” + </p> + <p> + It was Ranald, who had been swinging up in the highest branches, and had + seen what had happened, and was coming down from limb to limb like a + squirrel. As he spoke, he dropped from the lowest limb into the water + close to where Hughie was splashing wildly. + </p> + <p> + In an instant, as he rose to the surface, Hughie's arms went round his + neck and pulled his head under water. But he was up again, and tugging at + Hughie's hands, he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Hughie! let go! I'll pull you out. Let go!” But Hughie, + half-insensible with terror and with the water he had gulped in, clung + with a death-grip. + </p> + <p> + “Hughie!” gasped Ranald, “you'll drown us both. Oh, Hughie man, let me + pull you out, can't you?” + </p> + <p> + Something in the tone caught Hughie's ear, and he loosed his hold, and + Ranald, taking him under the chin, looked round for the board. + </p> + <p> + By this time Don Cameron was in the water and working the board slowly + toward the gasping boys. But now a new danger threatened. The current had + gradually carried them toward the log jam, under which the water sucked to + the falls below. Once under the jam, no power on earth could save. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry up, Don!” called out Ranald, anxiously. Then, feeling Hughie + beginning to clutch again, he added, cheerily, “It's all right. You'll get + us.” But his face was gray and his eyes were staring, for over his + shoulder he could see the jam and he could feel the suck of the water on + his legs. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ranald, you can't do it,” sobbed Hughie. “Will I paddle underneath?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, paddle hard, Hughie,” said Ranald, for the jam was just at his + back. + </p> + <p> + But as he spoke, there was a cry, “Ranald, catch it!” Over the slippery + logs of the jam came Tom Finch pushing out a plank. + </p> + <p> + “Catch it!” he cried, “I'll hold this end solid.” And Ranald caught and + held fast, and the boys on the bank gave a mighty shout. Soon Don came up + with his board, and Tom, catching the end, hauled it up on the rolling + logs. + </p> + <p> + “Hold steady there now!” cried Tom, lying at full length upon the logs; + “we'll get you in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the other boys had pulled a number of boards and planks out + of the jam, and laying them across the logs, made a kind of raft upon + which the exhausted swimmers were gradually hauled, and then brought safe + to shore. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ranald,” said Tom, almost weeping, “I didn't mean to—I never + thought—I'm awfully sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Ranald, who was taking off Hughie's shirt preparatory to + wringing it, “I know. Besides, it was you who pulled us out. You were + doing your best, Don, of course, but we would have gone under the jam but + for Tom.” + </p> + <p> + For ten minutes the boys stood going over again the various incidents in + the recent dramatic scene, extolling the virtues of Ranald, Don, and + Thomas in turn, and imitating, with screams of laughter, Hughie's gulps + and splashings while he was fighting for his life. It was their way of + expressing their emotions of gratitude and joy, for Hughie was dearly + loved by all, though no one would have dared to manifest such weakness. + </p> + <p> + As they were separating, Hughie whispered to Ranald, “Come home with me, + Ranald. I want you.” And Ranald, looking down into the little white face, + went. It would be many a day before he would get rid of the picture of the + white face, with the staring black eyes, floating on the dark brown water + beside him, and that was why he went. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the path to the manse clearing Ranald and Hughie were + alone. For some minutes Hughie followed Ranald in silence on a dog-trot, + through the brule, dodging round stumps and roots and climbing over fallen + trees, till they came to the pasture-field. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Ranald,” panted Hughie, putting on a spurt and coming up even + with his leader. + </p> + <p> + “Are you warm enough?” asked Ranald, looking down at the little flushed + face. + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you dry?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh, huh.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, you are not too dry,” said Ranald, feeling his wet shirt and + trousers, “and your mother will be wondering.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell her,” said Hughie, in a tone of exulting anticipation. + </p> + <p> + “What!” Ranald stood dead still. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell her,” replied Hughie. “She'll be awful glad. And she'll be + awful thankful to you, Ranald.” + </p> + <p> + Ranald looked at him in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I think I will jist be going back now,” he said, at length. But Hughie + seized him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ranald, you must come with me.” + </p> + <p> + He had pictured himself telling his mother of Ranald's exploit, and + covering his hero with glory. But this was the very thing that Ranald + dreaded and hated, and was bound to prevent. + </p> + <p> + “You will not be going to the Deepole again, I warrant you,” Ranald said, + with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Not go to the Deepole?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. Your mother will put an end to that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother! Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “She will not be wanting to have you drowned.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie laughed scornfully. “You don't know my mother. She's not afraid of—of + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “But she will be telling your father.” + </p> + <p> + This was a matter serious enough to give Hughie pause. His father might + very likely forbid the Deepole. + </p> + <p> + “There is no need for telling,” suggested Ranald. “And I will just go in + for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you stay for supper?” + </p> + <p> + Ranald shook his head. The manse kitchen was a bright place, and to see + the minister's wife and to hear her talk was to Ranald pure delight. But + then, Hughie might tell, and that would be too awful to bear. + </p> + <p> + “Do, Ranald,” pleaded Hughie. “I'll not tell.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure as death!” + </p> + <p> + Still Ranald hesitated. Hughie grew desperate. + </p> + <p> + “God may kill me on the spot!” he cried, using the most binding of all + oaths known to the boys. This was satisfactory, and Ranald went. + </p> + <p> + But Hughie was not skilled in deceiving, and especially in deceiving his + mother. They were great friends, and Hughie shared all his secrets with + her and knew that they were safe, unless they ought to be told. And so, + when he caught sight of his mother waiting for him before the door, he + left Ranald, and thrilling with the memory of the awful peril through + which he had passed, rushed at her, and crying, “Oh, mother!” he flung + himself into her arms. “I am so glad to see you again!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Hughie, my boy, what's the matter?” said his mother, holding her + arms tight about him. “And you are all wet! What is it?” But Hughie held + her fast, struggling with himself. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked again, turning to Ranald. + </p> + <p> + “We were running pretty fast—and it is a hot day—and—” + But the clear gray-brown eyes were upon him, and Ranald found it difficult + to go on. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, you mustn't ask,” cried Hughie; “I promised not to tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to tell me, Hughie?” The surprise in the voice was quite too much for + Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, we did not want to frighten you—and—I promised.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must keep your promise. Come away in, my boy. Come in, Ranald.” + </p> + <p> + It was her boy's first secret from her. Ranald saw the look of pain in the + sweet face, and could not endure it. + </p> + <p> + “It was just nothing, Mrs. Murray,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Did you promise, too, Ranald?” + </p> + <p> + “No, that I did not. And there is nothing much to tell, only Hughie fell + into the Deepole and the boys pulled him out!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother!” exclaimed Hughie, “it was Ranald. He jumped right down from + the tree right into the water, and kept me up. You told yourself, Ranald,” + he continued, delighted to be relieved of his promise; and on he went to + give his mother, in his most picturesque style, a description of the whole + scene, while Ranald stood looking miserable and ashamed. + </p> + <p> + “And Ranald was ashamed for me to tell you, and besides, he said you + wouldn't let me go to the Deepole again. But you will, won't you mother? + And you won't tell father, will you?” + </p> + <p> + The mother stood listening, with face growing whiter and whiter, till he + was done. Then she stooped down over the eager face for some moments, + whispering, “My darling, my darling,” and then coming to Ranald she held + her hand on his shoulder for a moment, while she said, in a voice bravely + struggling to be calm, “God reward you, Ranald. God grant my boy may + always have so good and brave a friend when he needs.” + </p> + <p> + And from that day Ranald's life was different, for he had bound to him by + a tie that nothing could ever break, a friend whose influence followed + him, and steadied and lifted him up to greatness, long after the grave had + hidden her from men's sight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + THE EXAMINATION + </h3> + <p> + The two years of Archibald Munro's regime were the golden age of the + school, and for a whole generation “The Section” regarded that period as + the standard for comparison in the following years. Munro had a genius for + making his pupils work. They threw themselves with enthusiasm into all + they undertook—studies, debate nights, games, and in everything the + master was the source of inspiration. + </p> + <p> + And now his last examination day had come, and the whole Section was + stirred with enthusiasm for their master, and with grief at his departure. + </p> + <p> + The day before examination was spent in “cleaning the school.” This + semi-annual event, which always preceded the examination, was almost as + enjoyable as the examination day itself, if indeed it was not more so. The + school met in the morning for a final polish for the morrow's recitations. + Then after a speech by the master the little ones were dismissed and + allowed to go home though they never by any chance took advantage of this + permission. Then the master and the bigger boys and girls set to work to + prepare the school for the great day. The boys were told off in sections, + some to get dry cedar boughs from the swamp for the big fire outside, over + which the iron sugar-kettle was swung to heat the scrubbing water; others + off into the woods for balsam-trees for the evergreen decorations; others + to draw water and wait upon the scrubbers. + </p> + <p> + It was a day of delightful excitement, but this year there was below the + excitement a deep, warm feeling of love and sadness, as both teacher and + pupils thought of to-morrow. There was an additional thrill to the + excitement, that the master was to be presented with a gold watch and + chain, and that this had been kept a dead secret from him. + </p> + <p> + What a day it was! With wild whoops the boys went off for the dry cedar + and the evergreens, while the girls, looking very housewifely with skirts + tucked back and sleeves rolled up, began to sweep and otherwise prepare + the room for scrubbing. + </p> + <p> + The gathering of the evergreens was a delightful labor. High up in the + balsam-trees the more daring boys would climb, and then, holding by the + swaying top, would swing themselves far out from the trunk and come + crashing through the limbs into the deep, soft snow, bringing half the + tree with them. What larks they had! What chasing of rabbits along their + beaten runways! What fierce and happy snow fights! And then, the triumph + of their return, laden with their evergreen trophies, to find the big fire + blazing under the great iron kettle and the water boiling, and the girls + well on with the scrubbing. + </p> + <p> + Then, while the girls scrubbed first the benches and desks, and last of + all, the floors, the boys washed the windows and put up the evergreen + decorations. Every corner had its pillar of green, every window had its + frame of green, the old blackboard, the occasion of many a heartache to + the unmathematical, was wreathed into loveliness; the maps, with their + bewildering boundaries, rivers and mountains, capes, bays and islands, + became for once worlds of beauty under the magic touch of the greenery. On + the wall just over his desk, the master wrought out in evergreen an + arching “WELCOME,” but later on, the big girls, with some shy blushing, + boldly tacked up underneath an answering “FAREWELL.” By the time the short + afternoon had faded into the early evening, the school stood, to the eyes + of all familiar with the common sordidness of its everyday dress, a + picture of artistic loveliness. And after the master's little speech of + thanks for their good work that afternoon, and for all their goodness to + him, the boys and girls went their ways with that strangely unnameable + heart-emptiness that brings an ache to the throat, but somehow makes + happier for the ache. + </p> + <p> + The examination day was the great school event of the year. It was the + social function of the Section as well. Toward this event all the school + life moved, and its approach was attended by a deepening excitement, + shared by children and parents alike, which made a kind of holiday feeling + in the air. + </p> + <p> + The school opened an hour later than ordinarily, and the children came all + in their Sunday clothes, the boys feeling stiff and uncomfortable, and + regarding each other with looks half shy and half contemptuous, realizing + that they were unnatural in each other's sight; the girls with hair in + marvelous frizzes and shiny ringlets, with new ribbons, and white aprons + over their home-made winsey dresses, carried their unwonted grandeur with + an ease and delight that made the boys secretly envy but apparently + despise them. The one unpardonable crime with all the boys in that country + was that of being “proud.” The boy convicted of “shoween off,” was utterly + contemned by his fellows. Hence, any delight in new clothes or in a finer + appearance than usual was carefully avoided. + </p> + <p> + Ranald always hated new clothes. He felt them an intolerable burden. He + did not mind his new homespun, home-made flannel check shirt of mixed red + and white, but the heavy fulled-cloth suit made by his Aunt Kirsty felt + like a suit of mail. He moved heavily in it and felt queer, and knew that + he looked as he felt. The result was that he was in no genial mood, and + was on the alert for any indication of levity at his expense. + </p> + <p> + Hughie, on the contrary, like the girls, delighted in new clothes. His new + black suit, made down from one of his father's, with infinite planning and + pains by his mother, and finished only at twelve o'clock the night before, + gave him unmixed pleasure. And handsome he looked in it. All the little + girls proclaimed that in their shy, admiring glances, while the big girls + teased and petted and threatened to kiss him. Of course the boys all + scorned him and his finery, and tried to “take him down,” but Hughie was + so unfeignedly pleased with himself, and moved so easily and naturally in + his grand attire, and was so cheery and frank and happy, that no one + thought of calling him “proud.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after ten the sleighloads began to arrive. It was a mild winter day, + when the snow packed well, and there fluttered down through the still air + a few lazy flakes, large, soft, and feathery, like bits of the clouds + floating white against the blue sky. The sleighs were driven up to the + door with a great flourish and jingle of bells, and while the master + welcomed the ladies, the fathers and big brothers drove the horses to the + shelter of the thick-standing pines, and unhitching them, tied them to the + sleigh-boxes, where, blanketed and fed, they remained for the day. + </p> + <p> + Within an hour the little school-house was packed, the children crowded + tight into the long desks, and the visitors on the benches along the walls + and in the seats of the big boys and girls. On the platform were such of + the trustees as could muster up the necessary courage—old Peter + MacRae, who had been a dominie in the Old Country, the young minister and + his wife, and the schoolteacher from the “Sixteenth.” + </p> + <p> + First came the wee tots, who, in wide-eyed, serious innocence, went + through their letters and their “ox” and “cat” combinations and + permutations with great gusto and distinction. Then they were dismissed to + their seats by a series of mental arithmetic questions, sums of varying + difficulty being propounded, until little white-haired, blue-eyed Johnnie + Aird, with the single big curl on the top of his head, was left alone. + </p> + <p> + “One and one, Johnnie?” said the master, smiling down at the rosy face. + </p> + <p> + “Three,” promptly replied Johnnie, and retired to his seat amid the + delighted applause of visitors and pupils, and followed by the proud, + fond, albeit almost tearful, gaze of his mother. He was her baby, born + long after her other babies had grown up into sturdy youth, and all the + dearer for that. + </p> + <p> + Then up through the Readers, till the Fifth was reached, the examination + progressed, each class being handed over to the charge of a visitor, who + forthwith went upon examination as truly as did the class. + </p> + <p> + “Fifth class!” In due order the class marched up to the chalk line on the + floor in front of the master's desk, and stood waiting. + </p> + <p> + The reading lesson was Fitz-Greene Halleck's “Marco Bozzaris,” a selection + of considerable dramatic power, and calling for a somewhat spirited + rendering. The master would not have chosen this lesson, but he had laid + down the rule that there was to be no special drilling of the pupils for + an exhibition, but that the school should be seen doing its every-day + work; and in the reading, the lessons for the previous day were to be + those of the examination day. By an evil fortune, the reading for the day + was the dramatic “Marco Bozzaris.” The master shivered inwardly as he + thought of the possibility of Thomas Finch, with his stolidly monotonous + voice, being called upon to read the thrilling lines recording the + panic-stricken death-cry of the Turk: “To arms! They come! The Greek! The + Greek!” But Thomas, by careful plodding, had climbed to fourth place, and + the danger lay in the third verse. + </p> + <p> + “Will you take this class, Mr. MacRae?” said the master, handing him the + book. He knew that the dominie was not interested in the art of reading + beyond the point of correct pronunciation, and hence he hoped the class + might get off easily. The dominie took the book reluctantly. What he + desired was the “arith-MET-ic” class, and did not care to be “put off” + with mere reading. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ranald, let us hear you,” he rather growled. Ranald went at his + work with quiet confidence; he knew all the words. + </p> + <p> + “Page 187, Marco Bozzaris. + </p> +<p class="poem"> +“At midnight in his guarded tent,<br /> +The Turk lay dreaming of the hour<br /> +When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,<br /> +Should tremble at his power.” + </p> + <p> + And so on steadily to the end of his verse. + </p> + <p> + “Next!” + </p> + <p> + The next was “Betsy Dan,” the daughter of Dan Campbell, of “The Island.” + Now, Betsy Dan was very red in hair and face, very shy and very nervous, + and always on the point of giggles. It was a trial to her to read on + ordinary days, but to-day it was almost more than she could bear. To make + matters worse, sitting immediately behind her, and sheltered from the eye + of the master, sat Jimmie Cameron, Don's youngest brother. Jimmie was + always on the alert for mischief, and ever ready to go off into fits of + laughter, which he managed to check only by grabbing tight hold of his + nose. Just now he was busy pulling at the strings of Betsy Dan's apron + with one hand, while with the other he was hanging onto his nose, and + swaying in paroxysms of laughter. + </p> + <p> + Very red in the face, Betsy Dan began her verse. + </p> + <p> + “At midnight in the forest shades, Bozzaris—” + </p> + <p> + Pause, while Betsy Dan clutched behind her. + </p> + <p> + “—Bozzaris ranged—” + </p> + <p> + (“Tchik! tchik!”) a snicker from Jimmie in the rear. + </p> + <p> + “—his Suliote band, True as the steel of—” + </p> + <p> + (“im-im,”) Betsy Dan struggles with her giggles. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth!” The master's voice is stern and sharp. + </p> + <p> + Betsy Dan bridles up, while Jimmie is momentarily sobered by the master's + tone. + </p> +<p class="poem"> +“True as the steel of their tried blades,<br /> +Heroes in heart and hand.<br /> +There had the Persians thousands stood—” + </p> + <p> + (“Tchik! tchik! tchik,”) a long snicker from Jimmie, whose nose cannot be + kept quite in control. It is becoming too much for poor Betsy Dan, whose + lips begin to twitch. + </p> + <p> + “There—” + </p> + <p> + (“im-im, thit-tit-tit,”) Betsy Dan is making mighty efforts to hold in her + giggles. + </p> + <p> + “—had the glad earth (tchik!) drunk their blood, On old + Pl-a-a-t-t-e-a-'s day.” + </p> + <p> + Whack! whack! + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Campbell!” The master's tone was quite terrible. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care! He won't leave me alone. He's just—just (sob) pu—pulling + at me (sob) all the time.” + </p> + <p> + By this time Betsy's apron was up to her eyes, and her sobs were quite + tempestuous. + </p> + <p> + “James, stand up!” Jimmie slowly rose, red with laughter, and covered with + confusion. + </p> + <p> + “I-I-I di-dn't touch her!” he protested. + </p> + <p> + “O—h!” said little Aleck Sinclair, who had been enjoying Jimmie's + prank hugely; “he was—” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do, Aleck, I didn't ask you. James is quite able to tell me + himself. Now, James!” + </p> + <p> + “I-I-I was only just doing that,” said Jimmie, sober enough now, and + terrified at the results of his mischief. + </p> + <p> + “Doing what?” said the master, repressing a smile at Jimmie's woebegone + face. + </p> + <p> + “Just-just that!” and Jimmie touched gingerly with the point of his finger + the bows of Betsy Dan's apron-strings. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. You were annoying Elizabeth while she was reading. No wonder + she found it difficult. Now, do you think that was very nice?” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie twisted himself into a semicircle. + </p> + <p> + “N-o-o.” + </p> + <p> + “Come here, James!” Jimmie looked frightened, came round the class, and up + to the master. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” continued the master, facing Jimmie round in front of Betsy + Dan, who was still using her apron upon her eyes, “tell Elizabeth you are + sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie stood in an agony of silent awkwardness, curving himself in varying + directions. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sorry?” + </p> + <p> + “Y-e-e-s.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell her so.” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie drew a long breath and braced himself for the ordeal. He stood a + moment or two, working his eyes up shyly from Betsy Dan's shoes to her + face, caught her glancing at him from behind her apron, and began, + “I-I-I'm (tchik! tchik) sor-ry,” (tchik). Betsy Dan's look was too much + for the little chap's gravity. + </p> + <p> + A roar swept over the school-house. Even the grim dominie's face relaxed. + </p> + <p> + “Go to your seat and behave yourself,” said the master, giving Jimmie a + slight cuff. “Now, Margaret, let us go on.” + </p> + <p> + Margaret's was the difficult verse. But to Margaret's quiet voice and + gentle heart, anything like shriek or battle-cry was foreign enough, so + with even tone, and unmodulated by any shade of passion, she read the cry, + “To arms! They come! The Greek! The Greek!” Nor was her voice to be moved + from its gentle, monotonous flow even by the battle-cry of Bozzaris, + “Strike! till the last armed foe expires!” + </p> + <p> + “Next,” said the dominie, glad to get on with his task. + </p> + <p> + The master breathed freely, when, alas for his hopes, the minister spoke + up. + </p> + <p> + “But, Margaret, do you think Bozzaris cheered his men in so gentle a voice + as that?” + </p> + <p> + Margaret smiled sweetly, but remained silent, glad to get over the verse. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't you like to try it again?” suggested the minister. + </p> + <p> + Margaret flushed up at once. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said his wife, who had noticed Margaret's flushing face. “Girls + are not supposed to be soldiers, are they, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + Margaret flashed a grateful look at her. + </p> + <p> + “That's a boy's verse.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay! that it is,” said the old dominie; “and I would wish very much that + Mrs. Murray would conduct this class.” + </p> + <p> + But the minister's wife would not hear of it, protesting that the dominie + could do it much better. The old man, however, insisted, saying that he + had no great liking for this part of the examination, and would wish to + reserve himself, with the master's permission, for the “arith-MET-ic” + class. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murray, seeing that it would please the dominie, took the book, with + a spot of color coming in her delicate, high-bred face. + </p> + <p> + “You must all do your best now, to help me,” she said, with a smile that + brought an answering smile flashing along the line. Even Thomas Finch + allowed his stolid face a gleam of intelligent sympathy, which, however, + he immediately suppressed, for he remembered that the next turn was his, + and that he must be getting himself into the appearance of dogged + desperation which he considered suitable to a reading exercise. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thomas,” said the minister's wife, sweetly, and Thomas plunged + heavily. + </p> + <p> + “They fought like brave men, long—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Thomas, I think we will try that man's verse again, with the cries of + battle in it, you know. I am sure you can do that well.” + </p> + <p> + It was all the same to Thomas. There were no words he could not spell, and + he saw no reason why he should not do that verse as well as any other. So, + with an extra knitting of his eyebrows, he set forth doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “An-hour-passed-on-the-Turk-awoke-that-bright-dream-was-his-last.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas's voice fell with the unvarying regularity of the beat of a + trip-hammer. + </p> + <p> + “He-woke-to-hear-his-sentries-shriek-to-arms-they-come-the-Greek + the-Greek-he-woke—” + </p> + <p> + “But, Thomas, wait a minute. You see you must speak these words, 'To arms! + They come!' differently from the others. These words were shrieked by the + sentries, and you must show that in your reading.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak them out, man,” said the minister, sharply, and a little nervously, + fearing that his wife had undertaken too great a task, and hating to see + her defeated. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thomas,” said Mrs. Murray, “try again. And remember the sentries + shrieked these words, 'To arms!' and so on.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas squared his shoulders, spread his feet apart, added a wrinkle to + his frown, and a deeper note of desperation to his tone, and began again. + </p> + <p> + “An-hour-passed-on-the-Turk-awoke-that-bright-dream-was—” + </p> + <p> + The master shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thomas, excuse me. That's better, but we can improve that yet.” Mrs. + Murray was not to be beaten. The attention of the whole school, even to + Jimmie Cameron, as well as that of the visitors, was now concentrated upon + the event. + </p> + <p> + “See,” she went on, “each phrase by itself. 'An hour passed on: the Turk + awoke.' Now, try that far.” + </p> + <p> + Again Thomas tried, this time with complete success. The visitors + applauded. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's it, Thomas. I was sure you could do it.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas relaxed a little, but not unduly. He was not sure what was yet + before him. + </p> + <p> + “Now we will get that 'sentries shriek.' See, Thomas, like this a little,” + and she read the words with fine expression. + </p> + <p> + “You must put more pith, more force, into those words, Thomas. Speak out, + man!” interjected the minister, who was wishing it was all over. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thomas, I think this will be the last time. You have done very well, + but I feel sure you can do better.” + </p> + <p> + The minister's wife looked at Thomas as she said this, with so fascinating + a smile that the frown on Thomas' face deepened into a hideous scowl, and + he planted himself with a do-or-die expression in every angle of his solid + frame. Realizing the extreme necessity of the moment, he pitched his voice + several tones higher than ever before in his life inside a house and + before people, and made his final attempt. + </p> + <p> + “An-hour-passed-on: the-Turk-awoke: That-bright-dream-WAS-his-last.” + </p> + <p> + And now, feeling that the crisis was upon him, and confusing speed with + intensity, and sound with passion, he rushed his words, with + ever-increasing speed, into a wild yell. + </p> + <p> + “He-woke-to-hear-his-sentries-shriek-to-arms-they + come-the-Greek-THE-GREEK!” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of startled stillness, then, “tchik! tchik!” It was + Jimmie again, holding his nose and swaying in a vain effort to control a + paroxysm of snickers at Thomas' unusual outburst. + </p> + <p> + It was like a match to powder. Again the whole school burst into a roar of + uncontrollable laughter. Even the minister, the master, and the dominie, + could not resist. The only faces unmoved were those of Thomas Finch and + the minister's wife. He had tried his best, and it was to please her, and + she knew it. + </p> + <p> + A swift, shamed glance round, and his eyes rested on her face. That face + was sweet and grave as she leaned toward him, and said, “Thank you, + Thomas. That was well done.” And Thomas, still looking at her, flushed to + his hair roots and down the back of his neck, while the scowl on his + forehead faded into a frown, and then into smoothness. + </p> + <p> + “And if you always try your best like that, Thomas, you will be a great + and good man some day.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was low and soft, as if intended for him alone, but in the + sudden silence that followed the laughter it thrilled to every heart in + the room, and Thomas was surprised to find himself trying to swallow a + lump in his throat, and to keep his eyes from blinking; and in his face, + stolid and heavy, a new expression was struggling for utterance. “Here, + take me,” it said; “all that I have is thine,” and later days brought the + opportunity to prove it. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the reading lesson passed without incident. Indeed, there + pervaded the whole school that feeling of reaction which always succeeds + an emotional climax. The master decided to omit the geography and grammar + classes, which should have immediately followed, and have dinner at once, + and so allow both children and visitors time to recover tone for the + spelling and arithmetic of the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was an elaborate and appalling variety of pies and cakes, + served by the big girls and their sisters, who had recently left school, + and who consequently bore themselves with all proper dignity and + importance. Two of the boys passed round a pail of water and a tin cup, + that all the thirsty might drink. From hand to hand, and from lip to lip + the cup passed, with a fine contempt of microbes. The only point of + etiquette insisted upon was that no “leavings” should be allowed to remain + in the cup or thrown back into the pail, but should be carefully flung + upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + There had been examination feasts in pre-historic days in the Twentieth + school, when the boys indulged in free fights at long range, using as + missiles remnants of pie crust and cake, whose consistency rendered them + deadly enough to “bloody” a nose or black an eye. But these barbaric + encounters ceased with Archie Munro's advent, and now the boys vied with + each other in “minding their manners.” Not only was there no snatching of + food or exhibition of greediness, but there was a severe repression of any + apparent eagerness for the tempting dainties, lest it should be suspected + that such were unusual at home. Even the little boys felt that it would be + bad manners to take a second piece of cake or pie unless specially + pressed; but their eager, bulging eyes revealed only too plainly their + heart's desire, and the kindly waiters knew their duty sufficiently to + urge a second, third, and fourth supply of the toothsome currant or berry + pie, the solid fruit cake, or the oily doughnut, till the point was + reached where desire failed. + </p> + <p> + “Have some more, Jimmie. Have a doughnut,” said the master, who had been + admiring Jimmie's gastronomic achievements. + </p> + <p> + “He's had ten a'ready,” shouted little Aleck Sinclair, Jimmie's special + confidant. + </p> + <p> + Jimmie smiled in conscious pride, but remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “What! eaten ten doughnuts?” asked the master, feigning alarm. + </p> + <p> + “He's got four in his pocket, too,” said Aleck, in triumph. + </p> + <p> + “He's got a pie in his own pocket,” retorted Jimmie, driven to retaliate. + </p> + <p> + “A pie!” exclaimed the master. “Better take it out. A pocket's not the + best place for a pie. Why don't you eat it, Aleck?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't,” lamented Aleck. “I'm full up.” + </p> + <p> + “He said he's nearly busted,” said Jimmie, anxiously. “He's got a pain + here,” pointing to his left eye. The bigger boys and some of the visitors + who had gathered round shouted with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw, Aleck!” said the master, encouragingly, “that's all right. As + long as the pain is as high up as your eye you'll recover. I tell you + what, put your pie down on the desk here, Jimmie will take care of it, and + run down to the gate and tell Don I want him.” + </p> + <p> + Aleck, with great care and considerable difficulty, extracted from his + pocket a segment of black currant pie, hopelessly battered, but still + intact. He regarded it fondly for a moment or two, and then, with a very + dubious look at Jimmie, ran away on his errand for the master. + </p> + <p> + It took him some little time to find Don, and meanwhile the master's + attention was drawn away by his duty to the visitors. The pie left to + Jimmie's care had an unfortunately tempting fringe of loose pieces about + it that marred its symmetry. Jimmie proceeded to trim it into shape. So + absorbed did he become in this trimming process, that before he realized + what he was about, he woke suddenly to the startling fact that the pie had + shrunk into a comparatively insignificant size. It would be worse than + useless to save the mutilated remains for Aleck; there was nothing for it + now but to get the reproachful remnant out of the way. He was so busily + occupied with this praiseworthy proceeding that he failed to notice Aleck + enter the room, flushed with his race, eager and once more empty. + </p> + <p> + Arriving at his seat, he came upon Jimmie engaged in devouring the pie + left in his charge. With a cry of dismay and rage he flung himself upon + the little gourmand, and after a short struggle, secured the precious pie; + but alas, bereft of its most delicious part—it was picked clean of + its currants. For a moment he gazed, grief-stricken, at the leathery, + viscous remnant in his hand. Then, with a wrathful exclamation, “Here, + then, you can just take it then, you big pig, you!” He seized Jimmie by + the neck, and jammed the sticky pie crust on his face, where it stuck like + an adhesive plaster. Jimmie, taken by surprise, and rendered nerveless by + the pangs of an accusing conscience, made no resistance, but set up a howl + that attracted the attention of the master and the whole company. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Jimmie!” exclaimed the master, removing the doughy mixture from the + little lad's face, “what on earth are you trying to do? What is wrong, + Aleck?” + </p> + <p> + “He ate my pie,” said Aleck, defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “Ate it? Well, apparently not. But never mind, Aleck, we shall get you + another pie.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any more,” said Aleck, mournfully; “that was the last piece.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, we shall find something else just as good,” said the master, + going off after one of the big girls; and returning with a doughnut and a + peculiarly deadly looking piece of fruit cake, he succeeded in comforting + the disappointed and still indignant Aleck. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon was given to the more serious part of the school work—writing, + arithmetic, and spelling, while, for those whose ambitions extended beyond + the limits of the public school, the master had begun a Euclid class, + which was at once his despair and his pride. In the Twentieth school of + that date there was no waste of the children's time in foolish and + fantastic branches of study, in showy exercises and accomplishments, whose + display was at once ruinous to the nerves of the visitors, and to the + self-respect and modesty of the children. The ideal of the school was to + fit the children for the struggle into which their lives would thrust + them, so that the boy who could spell and read and cipher was supposed to + be ready for his life work. Those whose ambition led them into the + subtleties of Euclid's problems and theorems were supposed to be in + preparation for somewhat higher spheres of life. + </p> + <p> + Through the various classes of arithmetic the examination proceeded, the + little ones struggling with great seriousness through their addition and + subtraction sums, and being wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement + by their contest for the first place. By the time the fifth class was + reached, the air was heavy with the feeling of battle. Indeed, it was + amazing to note how the master had succeeded in arousing in the whole + school an intense spirit of emulation. From little Johnnie Aird up to + Thomas Finch, the pupils carried the hearts of soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Through fractions, the “Rule of Three,” percentages, and stocks, the + senior class swept with a trail of glory. In vain old Peter MacRae strewed + their path with his favorite posers. The brilliant achievements of the + class seemed to sink him deeper and deeper into the gloom of discontent, + while the master, the minister and his wife, as well as the visitors, + could not conceal their delight. As a last resort the old dominie sought + to stem their victorious career with his famous problem in Practice, and + to his huge enjoyment, one after another of the class had to acknowledge + defeat. The truth was, the master had passed lightly over this rule in the + arithmetic, considering the solution of problems by the method of Practice + as a little antiquated, and hardly worthy of much study. The failure of + the class, however, brought the dominie his hour of triumph, and so + complete had been the success of the examination that the master was + abundantly willing that he should enjoy it. + </p> + <p> + Then followed the judging of the copy-books. The best and cleanest book in + each class was given the proud distinction of a testimonial written upon + the first blank page, with the date of the examination and the signatures + of the examiners attached. It was afterwards borne home in triumph by the + happy owner, to be stored among the family archives, and perhaps among the + sacred things that mothers keep in their holy of holies. + </p> + <p> + After the copy-books had been duly appraised, there followed an hour in + which the excitement of the day reached its highest mark. The whole + school, with such of the visitors as could be persuaded to join, were + ranged in opposing ranks in the deadly conflict of a spelling-match. The + master, the teacher from the Sixteenth, and even the minister's wife, + yielded to the tremendous pressure of public demand that they should enter + the fray. The contest had a most dramatic finish, and it was felt that the + extreme possibility of enthusiasm and excitement was reached when the + minister's wife spelled down the teacher from the Sixteenth, who every one + knew, was the champion speller of all the country that lay toward the + Front, and had a special private armory of deadly missiles laid up against + just such a conflict as this. The tumultuous triumph of the children was + not to be controlled. Again and again they followed Hughie in wild yells, + not only because his mother was a great favorite with them all, but + because she had wrested a victory from the champion of the Front, for the + Front, in all matters pertaining to culture and fashion, thought itself + quite superior to the more backwoods country of the Twentieth. + </p> + <p> + It was with no small difficulty that the master brought the school to such + a degree of order that the closing speeches could be received with + becoming respect and attention. The trustees, according to custom, were + invited to express their opinion upon the examination, and upon school + matters generally. The chairman, John Cameron, “Long John,” as he was + called, broke the ice after much persuasion, and slowly rising from the + desk into which he had compressed his long, lank form, he made his speech. + Long John was a great admirer of the master, but for all that, and perhaps + because of that, he allowed himself no warmer words of commendation than + that he was well pleased with the way in which the children had conducted + themselves. “They have done credit to themselves,” he said, “and to their + teacher. And indeed I am sorry he is leaving us, for, so far, I have heard + no complaints in the Section.” + </p> + <p> + The other trustees followed in the path thus blazed out for them by Long + John. They were all well pleased with the examination, and they were all + sorry to lose the master, and they had heard no complaints. It was + perfectly understood that no words of praise could add to the high + testimony that they “had heard no complaints.” + </p> + <p> + The dominie's speech was a little more elaborate. Somewhat reluctantly he + acknowledged that the school had acquitted itself with “very considerable + credit,” especially the “arith-MET-ic” class, and indeed, considering all + the circumstances, Mr. Munro was to be congratulated upon the results of + his work in the Section. But the minister's warm expression of delight at + the day's proceedings, and of regret at the departure of the master, more + than atoned for the trustees' cautious testimony, and the dominie's + somewhat grudging praise. + </p> + <p> + Then came the moment of the day. A great stillness fell upon the school as + the master rose to make his farewell speech. But before he could say a + word, up from their seats walked Betsy Dan and Thomas Finch, and ranged + themselves before him. The whole assemblage tingled with suppressed + excitement. The great secret with which they had been burdening themselves + for the past few weeks was now to be out. Slowly Thomas extracted the + manuscript from his trousers pocket, and smoothed out its many folds, + while Betsy Dan waited nervously in the rear. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why did they set Thomas to this?” whispered the minister's wife, who + had a profound sense of humor. The truth was, the choice of the school had + fallen upon Ranald and Margaret Aird. Margaret was quite willing to act, + but Ranald refused point-blank, and privately persuaded Thomas to accept + the honor in his stead. To this Thomas agreed, all the more readily that + Margaret, whom he adored from a respectful distance, was to be his + partner. But Margaret, who would gladly have been associated with Ranald, + on the suggestion that Thomas should take his place, put up her lower lip + in that symbol of scorn so effective with girls, but which no boy has ever + yet accomplished, and declared that indeed, and she would see that Tom + Finch far enough, which plainly meant “no.” Consequently they had to fall + back upon Betsy Dan, who, in addition to being excessively nervous, was + extremely good-natured. And Thomas, though he would greatly have preferred + Margaret as his assistant, was quite ready to accept Betsy Dan. + </p> + <p> + The interval of waiting while Thomas deliberately smoothed out the creases + of the paper was exceedingly hard upon Betsy Dan, whose face grew redder + each moment. Jimmie Cameron, too, who realized that the occasion was one + of unusual solemnity, was gazing at Thomas with intense interest growing + into amusement, and was holding his fingers in readiness to seize his + nose, and so check any explosion of snickers. Just as Thomas had got the + last fold of his paper straightened out, and was turning it right end up, + it somehow slipped through his fingers to the floor. This was too much for + Jimmie, who only saved himself from utter disgrace by promptly seizing his + nose and holding on for dear life. Thomas gave Jimmie a passing glare and + straightened himself up for his work. With a furious frown he cleared his + throat and began in a solemn, deep-toned roar, “Dear teacher, learning + with regret that you are about to sever your connection,” etc., etc. All + went well until he came to the words, “We beg you to accept this gift, not + for its intrinsic value,” etc., which was the cue for Betsy Dan. But Betsy + Dan was engaged in terrorizing Jimmie, and failed to come in, till, after + an awful pause, Thomas gave her a sharp nudge, and whispered audibly, + “Give it to him, you gowk.” Poor Betsy Dan, in sudden confusion, whipped + her hand out from under her apron, and thrusting a box at the master, said + hurriedly, “Here it is, sir.” As Thomas solemnly concluded his address, a + smile ran round the room, while Jimmie doubled himself up in his efforts + to suppress a tempest of snickers. + </p> + <p> + The master, however, seemed to see nothing humorous in the situation, but + bowing gravely to Thomas and Betsy Dan, he said, kindly, “Thank you, + Thomas! Thank you, Elizabeth!” Something in his tone brought the school to + attention, and even Jimmie forgot to have regard to his nose. For a few + moments the master stood looking upon the faces of his pupils, dwelling + upon them one by one, till his eyes rested upon the wee tots in the front + seat, looking at him with eyes of innocent and serious wonder. Then he + thanked the children for their gift in a few simple words, assuring them + that he should always wear the watch with pride and grateful remembrance + of the Twentieth school, and of his happy days among them. + </p> + <p> + But when he came to say his words of farewell, and to thank them for their + goodness to him, and their loyal backing of him while he was their + teacher, his voice grew husky, and for a moment wavered. Then, after a + pause, he spoke of what had been his ideal among them. “It is a good thing + to have your minds trained and stored with useful knowledge, but there are + better things than that. To learn honor, truth, and right; to be manly and + womanly; to be self-controlled and brave and gentle—these are better + than all possible stores of learning; and if I have taught you these at + all, then I have done what I most wished to do. I have often failed, and I + have often been discouraged, and might have given up were it not for the + help I received at my worst times from our minister and from Mrs. Murray, + who often saved me from despair.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden flush tinged the grave, beautiful face of the minister's young + wife. A light filled her eyes as the master said these words, for she + remembered days when the young man's pain was almost greater than he could + bear, and when he was near to giving up. + </p> + <p> + When the master ceased, the minister spoke a few words in appreciation of + the work he had done in the school, and in the whole Section, during his + three years' stay among them, and expressed his conviction that many a + young lad would grow into a better man because he had known Archibald + Munro, and some of them would never forget what he had done for them. + </p> + <p> + By this time all the big girls and many of the visitors were openly + weeping. The boys were looking straight in front of them, their faces set + in an appearance of savage gloom, for they knew well how near they were to + “acting like the girls.” + </p> + <p> + After a short prayer by the minister, the children filed out past the + master, who stood at the door and shook hands with them one by one. When + the big boys, and the young men who had gone to school in the winter + months, came to say good by, they shook hands silently, and then stood + close about him as if hating to let him go. He had caught for them in many + a close base-ball match; he had saved their goal in many a fierce shinny + fight with the Front; and while he had ruled them with an iron rule, he + had always treated them fairly. He had never failed them; he had never + weakened; he had always been a man among them. No wonder they stood close + about him and hated to lose him. Suddenly big Bob Fraser called out in a + husky voice, “Three cheers for the captain!” and every one was glad of the + chance to let himself out in a roar. And that was the last of the + farewells. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + THE NEW MASTER + </h3> + <p> + Right in front of the school door, and some little distance from it, in + the midst of a clump of maples, stood an old beech-tree with a dead top, + and half-way down where a limb had once been and had rotted off, a hole. + Inside this hole two very respectable but thoroughly impudent red + squirrels had made their nest. The hole led into the dead heart of the + tree, which had been hollowed out with pains so as to make a roomy, cosy + home, which the squirrels had lined with fur and moss, and which was well + stored with beechnuts from the tree, their winter's provisions. + </p> + <p> + Between the boys and the squirrels there existed an armed neutrality. It + was understood among the boys that nothing worse than snowballs was to be + used in their war with the squirrels, while with the squirrels it was a + matter of honor that they should put reasonable limits to their profanity. + But there were times when the relations became strained, and hence the + holidays were no less welcome to the squirrels than to the boys. + </p> + <p> + To the squirrels this had been a day of unusual anxiety, for the school + had taken up again after its two weeks' holidays, and the boys were a + little more inquisitive than usual, and unfortunately, the snow happened + to be good for packing. It had been a bad day for nerves, and Mr. Bushy, + as the boys called him, found it impossible to keep his tail in one + position for more than one second at a time. It was in vain that his more + sedate and self-controlled partner in life remonstrated with him and urged + a more philosophic mind. + </p> + <p> + “It's all very well for you, my dear,” Mr. Bushy was saying, rather + crossly I am afraid, “to urge a philosophic mind, but if you had the + responsibility of the family upon you—Goodness gracious! Owls and + weasels! What in all the woods is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't be the wolves,” said Mrs. Bushy, placidly, “it's too early for + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Might have known,” replied her husband, quite crossly; “of course it's + those boys. I wonder why they let them out of school at all. Why can't + they keep them in where it is warm? It always seems to me a very silly + thing anyway, for them to keep rushing out of their hole in that stupid + fashion. What they do in there I am sure I don't know. It isn't the least + like a nest. I've seen inside of it. There isn't a thing to eat, nor a bit + of hair or moss. They just go in and out again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear,” said his wife, soothingly, “you can hardly expect them to + know as much as people with a wider outlook. We must remember they are + only ground people.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it!” grumbled Mr. Bushy. “I only wish they would just keep to + themselves and on the ground where they belong, but they have the + impudence to come lumbering up here into our tree.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” replied his partner, calmly, “you must acknowledge they do not + disturb our nest.” + </p> + <p> + “And a good thing for them, too,” chattered Mr. Bushy, fiercely, smoothing + out his whiskers and showing his sharp front teeth, at which Mrs. Bushy + smiled gently behind her tail. + </p> + <p> + “But what are they doing now?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they are going off into the woods,” said Mr. Bushy, who had issued + from his hole and was sitting up on a convenient crotch. “And I declare!” + he said, in amazed tones, “they haven't thrown one snowball at me. + Something must be badly wrong with them. Wonder what it is? This is quite + unprecedented.” + </p> + <p> + At this Mrs. Bushy ventured carefully out to observe the extraordinary + phenomenon, for the boys were actually making their way to the gate, the + smaller ones with much noisy shouting, but the big boys soberly enough + engaged in earnest conversation. It was their first day of the new master, + and such a day as quite “flabbergastrated,” as Don Cameron said, even the + oldest of them. But of course Mr. and Mrs. Bushy knew nothing of this, and + could only marvel. + </p> + <p> + “Murdie,” cried Hughie to Don's big brother, who with Bob Fraser, Ranald + Macdonald, and Thomas Finch was walking slowly toward the gate, “you won't + forget to ask your pa for an excuse if you happen to be late to-morrow, + will you?” + </p> + <p> + Murdie paid no attention. + </p> + <p> + “You won't forget your excuse, Murdie,” continued Hughie, poking him in + the back. + </p> + <p> + Murdie suddenly turned, caught him by the neck and the seat of his + trousers, and threw him head first into a drift, from which he emerged + wrathful and sputtering. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope you do,” continued Hughie, “and then you'll catch it. And + mind you,” he went on, circling round to get in front of him, “if you want + to ask big Bob there for his knife, mind you hold up your hand first.” + Murdie only grinned at him. + </p> + <p> + The new master had begun the day by enunciating the regulations under + which the school was to be administered. They made rather a formidable + list, but two of them seemed to the boys to have gone beyond the limits of + all that was outrageous and absurd. There was to be no speaking during + school hours, and if a boy should desire to ask a question of his + neighbor, he was to hold up his hand and get permission from the master. + But worse than all, and more absurd than all, was the regulation that all + late comers and absentees were to bring written excuses from parents or + guardians. + </p> + <p> + “Guardian,” Thomas Finch had grunted, “what's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Your grandmother,” whispered Don back. + </p> + <p> + It was not Don's reply that brought Thomas into disgrace this first day of + the new master's rule, it was the vision of big Murdie Cameron walking up + to the desk with an excuse for lateness, which he had obtained from Long + John, his father. This vision breaking suddenly in upon the solemnity of + Thomas Finch's mind, had sent him into a snort of laughter, not more to + the surprise of the school than of himself. The gravity of the school had + not been greatly helped by Thomas sheepish answer to the master's + indignant question, “What did you do that for, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't; it did itself.” + </p> + <p> + On the whole, the opening day had not been a success. As a matter of fact, + it was almost too much to expect that it should be anything but a failure. + There was a kind of settled if unspoken opinion among the children that no + master could ever fill Archibald Munro's place in the school. Indeed, it + was felt to be a kind of impertinence for any man to attempt such a thing. + And further, there was a secret sentiment among the boys that loyalty to + the old master's memory demanded an attitude of unsympathetic opposition + to the one who came to take his place. It did not help the situation that + the new master was unaware of this state of mind. He was buoyed up by the + sentiments of enthusiastic admiration and approval that he carried with + him in the testimonials from his last board of trustees in town, with + which sentiments he fully agreed, and hence he greeted the pupils of the + little backwoods school with an airy condescension that reduced the school + to a condition of speechless and indignant astonishment. The school was + prepared to tolerate the man who should presume to succeed their former + master, if sufficiently humble, but certainly not to accept airy + condescension from him. + </p> + <p> + “Does he think we're babies?” asked Don, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “And did you see him trying to chop at recess?” (REE'cis, Hughie called + it.) “He couldn't hit twice in the same place.” + </p> + <p> + “And he asked me if that beech there was a maple,” said Bob Fraser, in + deep disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up your gab!” said Ranald, suddenly. “Give the man a chance, + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Will YOU bring an excuse when you're absent, Ranald?” asked Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “And where would I be getting it?” asked Ranald, grimly, and all the boys + realized the absurdity of expecting a written excuse for Ranald's absence + from his father. Macdonald Dubh was not a man to be bothered with such + trifles. + </p> + <p> + “You might get it from your Aunt Kirsty, Ranald,” said Don, slyly. The + boys shouted at the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “And she could do it well enough if it would be necessary,” said Ranald, + facing square round on Don, and throwing up his head after his manner when + battle was in the air, while the red blood showed in his dark cheek and + his eyes lit up with a fierce gleam. Don read the danger signal. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not saying she couldn't,” he hurried to say, apologetically, “but it + would be funny, wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Ranald, relenting and smiling a little, “it would be keeping + her busy at times.” + </p> + <p> + “When the deer are running, eh, Ranald,” said Murdie, good-naturedly. “But + Ranald's right, boys,” he continued, “give the man a chance, say I.” + </p> + <p> + “There's our bells,” cried Thomas Finch, as the deep, musical boom of the + Finch's sleigh-bells came through the bush. “Come on, Hughie, we'll get + them at the cross.” And followed by Hughie and the boys from the north, he + set off for the north cross-roads, where they would meet the Finch's + bob-sleighs coming empty from the saw-mill, to the great surprise and + unalloyed delight of Mr. and Mrs. Bushy, who from their crotch in the old + beech had watched with some anxiety the boys' unusual conduct. + </p> + <p> + “There they are, Hughie,” called Thomas, as the sleighs came out into the + open at the crossroads. “They'll wait for us. They know you're coming,” he + yelled, encouragingly, for the big boys had left the smaller ones, a + panting train, far in the rear, and were piling themselves upon the + Finch's sleighs, with never a “by your leave” to William John—familiarly + known as Billy Jack—Thomas' eldest brother, who drove the Finch's + team. + </p> + <p> + Thomas' home lay a mile north and another east from the Twentieth + cross-roads, but the winter road by which they hauled saw-logs to the + mill, cut right through the forest, where the deep snow packed hard into a + smooth track, covering roots and logs and mud holes, and making a perfect + surface for the sleighs, however heavily loaded, except where here and + there the pitch-holes or cahots came. These cahots, by the way, though + they became, especially toward the spring, a serious annoyance to + teamsters, only added another to the delights that a sleigh-ride held for + the boys. + </p> + <p> + To Hughie, the ride this evening was blissful to an unspeakable degree. He + was overflowing with new sensations. He was going to spend the night with + Thomas, for one thing, and Thomas as his host was quite a new and + different person from the Thomas of the school. The minister's wife, ever + since the examination day, had taken a deeper interest in Thomas, and + determined that something should be made out of the solemn, stolid, + slow-moving boy. Partly for this reason she had yielded to Hughie's eager + pleading, backing up the invitation brought by Thomas himself and + delivered in an agony of red-faced confusion, that Hughie should be + allowed to go home with him for the night. Partly, too, because she was + glad that Hughie should see something of the Finch's home, and especially + of the dark-faced, dark-eyed little woman who so silently and + unobtrusively, but so efficiently, administered her home, her family, and + their affairs, and especially her husband, without suspicion on his part + that anything of the kind was being done. + </p> + <p> + In addition to the joy that Hughie had in Thomas in his new role as host, + this winter road was full of wonder and delight, as were all roads and + paths that wound right through the heart of the bush. The regular made-up + roads, with the forest cut back beyond the ditches at the sides, were a + great weariness to Hughie, except indeed, in the springtime, when these + ditches were running full with sun-lit water, over the mottled clay bottom + and gravelly ripples. But the bush roads and paths, summer and winter, + were filled with things of wonder and of beauty, and this particular + winter road of the Finch's was best of all to Hughie, for it was quite new + to him, and besides, it led right through the mysterious, big pine swamp + and over the butternut ridge, beyond which lay the Finch's farm. + Balsam-trees, tamarack, spruce, and cedar made up the thick underbrush of + the pine swamp, white birch, white ash, and black were thickly sprinkled + through it, but high above these lesser trees towered the white pines, + lifting their great, tufted crests in lonely grandeur, seeming like kings + among meaner men. Here and there the rabbit runways, packed into hard + little paths, crossed the road and disappeared under the thick spruces and + balsams; here and there, the sly, single track of the fox, or the deep + hoof-mark of the deer, led off into unknown depths on either side. Hughie, + sitting up on the bolster of the front bob beside Billy Jack, for even the + big boys recognized his right, as Thomas' guest, to that coveted place, + listened with eager face and wide-open eyes to Billy Jack's remarks upon + the forest and its strange people. + </p> + <p> + One thing else added to Hughie's keen enjoyment of the ride. Billy Jack's + bays were always in the finest of fettle, and pulled hard on the lines, + and were rarely allowed the rapture of a gallop. But when the swamp was + passed and the road came to the more open butternut ridge, Billy Jack + shook the lines over their backs and let them out. Their response was + superb to witness, and brought Hughie some moments of ecstatic rapture. + Along the hard-packed road that wound about among the big butternuts, the + rangey bays sped at a flat gallop, bounding clear over the cahots, the + booming of the bells and the rattling of the chains furnishing an + exhilarating accompaniment to the swift, swaying motion, while the + children clung for dear life to the bob-sleighs and to each other. It was + all Billy Jack could do to get his team down to a trot by the time they + reached the clearing, for there the going was perilous, and besides, it + was just as well that his father should not witness any signs on Billy + Jack's part of the folly that he was inclined to attribute to the rising + generation. So steadily enough the bays trotted up the lane and between + long lines of green cordwood on one side and a hay-stack on the other, + into the yard, and swinging round the big straw-stack that faced the open + shed, and was flanked on the right by the cow-stable and hog-pen, and on + the left by the horse-stable, came to a full stop at their own stable + door. + </p> + <p> + “Thomas, you take Hughie into the house to get warm, till I unhitch,” said + Billy Jack, with the feeling that courtesy to the minister's son demanded + this attention. But Hughie, rejecting this proposition with scorn, pushed + Thomas aside and set himself to unhitch the S-hook on the outside trace of + the nigh bay. It was one of Hughie's grievances, and a very sore point + with him, that his father's people would insist on treating him in the + privileged manner they thought proper to his father's son, and his chief + ambition was to stand upon his own legs and to fare like other boys. So he + scorned Billy Jack's suggestion, and while some of the children scurried + about the stacks for a little romp before setting off for their homes, + which some of them, for the sake of the ride, had left far behind, Hughie + devoted himself to the unhitching of the team with Billy Jack. And so + quick was he in his movements, and so fearless of the horses, that he had + his side unhitched and was struggling with the breast-strap before Billy + Jack had finished with his horse. + </p> + <p> + “Man! you're a regular farmer,” said Billy Jack, admiringly, “only you're + too quick for the rest of us.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie, still struggling with the breast-strap, found his heart swell with + pride. To be a farmer was his present dream. + </p> + <p> + “But that's too heavy for you,” continued Billy Jack. “Here, let down the + tongue first.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Hughie, disgusted at his exhibition of ignorance, “I knew + that tongue ought to come out first, but I forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, it's just as good that way, but not quite so easy,” said Billy + Jack, with doubtful consistency. + </p> + <p> + It took Hughie but a few minutes after the tongue was let down to unfasten + his end of the neck-yoke and the cross-lines, and he was beginning at his + hame-strap, always a difficult buckle, when Billy Jack called out, “Hold + on there! You're too quick for me. We'll make them carry their own harness + into the stable. Don't believe in making a horse of myself.” Billy Jack + was something of a humorist. + </p> + <p> + The Finch homestead was a model of finished neatness. Order was its law. + Outside, the stables, barns, stacks, the very wood-piles, evidenced that + law. Within, the house and its belongings and affairs were perfect in + their harmonious arrangement. The whole establishment, without and within, + gave token of the unremitting care of one organizing mind, for, from dark + to dark, while others might have their moments of rest and careless ease, + “the little mother,” as Billy Jack called her, was ever on guard, and all + the machinery of house and farm moved smoothly and to purpose because of + that unsleeping care. She was last to bed and first to stir, and Billy + Jack declared that she used to put the cats to sleep at night, and waken + up the roosters in the morning. And through it all her face remained + serene, and her voice flowed in quiet tones. Billy Jack adored her with + all the might of his big heart and body. Thomas, slow of motion as of + expression, found in her the center of his somewhat sluggish being. + Jessac, the little dark-faced maiden of nine years, whose face was the + very replica of her mother's, knew nothing in the world dearer, albeit in + her daily little housewifely tasks she felt the gentle pressure of that + steadfast mind and unyielding purpose. Her husband regarded her with a + curious mingling of reverence and defiance, for Donald Finch was an + obstinate man, with a man's love of authority, and a Scotchman's sense of + his right to rule in his own house. But while he talked much about his + authority, and made a great show of absolutism with his family, he was + secretly conscious that another will than his had really kept things + moving about the farm; for he had long ago learned that his wife was + always right, while he might often be wrong, and that, withal her soft + words and gentle ways, hers was a will like steel. + </p> + <p> + Besides the law of order, another law ruled in the Finch household—the + law of work. The days were filled with work, for they each had their share + to do, and bore the sole responsibility for its being well done. If the + cows failed in their milk, or the fat cattle were not up to the mark, the + father felt the reproach as his; to Billy Jack fell the care and handling + of the horses; Thomas took charge of the pigs, and the getting of wood and + water for the house; little Jessac had her daily task of “sorting the + rooms,” and when the days were too stormy or the snow too deep for school, + she had in addition her stent of knitting or of winding the yarn for the + weaver. To the mother fell all the rest. At the cooking and the cleaning, + and the making and the mending, all fine arts with her, she diligently + toiled from long before dawn till after all the rest were abed. But + besides these and other daily household duties there were, in their + various seasons, the jam and jelly, the pumpkin and squash preserves, the + butter-making and cheese-making, and more than all, the long, long work + with the wool. Billy Jack used to say that the little mother followed that + wool from the backs of her sheep to the backs of her family, and hated to + let the weaver have his turn at it. What with the washing and the oiling + of it, the carding and the spinning, the twisting and the winding, she + never seemed to be done. And then, when it came back from the weaver in + great webs of fulled-cloth and flannel and winsey, there was all the + cutting, shaping, and sewing before the family could get it on their + backs. True, the tailor was called in to help, but though he declared he + worked no place else as he worked at the Finch's, it was Billy Jack's + openly expressed opinion that “he worked his jaw more than his needle, for + at meal-times he gave his needle a rest.” + </p> + <p> + But though Hughie, of course, knew nothing of this toiling and moiling, he + was distinctly conscious of an air of tidiness and comfort and quiet, and + was keenly alive to the fact that there was a splendid supper waiting him + when he got in from the stables with the others, “hungry as a wild-cat,” + as Billy jack expressed it. And that WAS a supper! Fried ribs of fresh + pork, and hashed potatoes, hot and brown, followed by buckwheat pancakes, + hot and brown, with maple syrup. There was tea for the father and mother + with their oat cakes, but for the children no such luxury, only the choice + of buttermilk or sweet milk. Hughie, it is true, was offered tea, but he + promptly declined, for though he loved it well enough, it was sufficient + reason for him that Thomas had none. It took, however, all the grace out + of his declining, that Mr. Finch remarked in gruff pleasantry, “What would + a boy want with tea!” The supper was a very solemn meal. They were all too + busy to talk, at least so Hughie felt, and as for himself, he was only + afraid lest the others should “push back” before he had satisfied the + terrible craving within him. + </p> + <p> + After supper the books were taken, and in Gaelic, for though Donald Finch + was perfectly able in English for business and ordinary affairs of life, + when it came to the worship of God, he found that only in the ancient + mother tongue could he “get liberty.” As Hughie listened to the solemn + reading, and then to the prayer that followed, though he could understand + only a word now and again, he was greatly impressed with the rhythmic, + solemn cadence of the voice, and as he glanced through his fingers at the + old man's face, he was surprised to find how completely it had changed. It + was no longer the face of the stern and stubborn autocrat, but of an + earnest, humble, reverent man of God; and Hughie, looking at him, wondered + if he would not be altogether nicer with his wife and boys after that + prayer was done. He had yet to learn how obstinate and even hard a man can + be and still have a great “gift in prayer.” + </p> + <p> + From the old man's face, Hughie's glance wandered to his wife's, and there + was held fascinated. For the first time Hughie thought it was beautiful, + and more than that, he was startled to find that it reminded him of his + mother's. At once he closed his eyes, for he felt as if he had been prying + where he had no right. + </p> + <p> + After the prayer was over they all drew about the glowing polished kitchen + stove with the open front, and set themselves to enjoy that hour which, + more than any other, helps to weave into the memory the thoughts and + feelings that in after days are associated with home. Old Donald drew + forth his pipe, a pleased expectation upon his face, and after cutting + enough tobacco from the black plug which he pulled from his trousers + pocket, he rolled it fine, with deliberation, and packed it carefully into + his briar-root pipe, from which dangled a tin cap; then drawing out some + live coals from the fire, he with a quick motion picked one up, set it + upon the top of the tobacco, and holding it there with his bare finger + until Hughie was sure he would burn himself, puffed with hard, smacking + puffs, but with a more comfortable expression than Hughie had yet seen him + wear. Then, when it was fairly lit, he knocked off the coal, packed down + the tobacco, put on the little tin cap, and sat back in his covered + arm-chair, and came as near beaming upon the world as ever he allowed + himself to come. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Jessac,” he said to the little dark-faced maiden slipping about the + table under the mother's silent direction. Jessac glanced at her mother + and hesitated. Then, apparently reading her mother's face, she said, “In a + minute, da,” and seizing the broom, which was much taller than herself, + she began to brush up the crumbs about the table with amazing deftness. + This task completed, and the crumbs being thrown into the pig's barrel + which stood in the woodshed just outside the door, Jessac set her broom in + the corner, hung up the dust-pan on its proper nail behind the stove, and + then, running to her father, climbed up on his knee and snuggled down into + his arms for an hour's luxurious laziness before the fire. Hughie gazed in + amazement at her temerity, for Donald Finch was not a man to take + liberties with; but as he gazed, he wondered the more, for again the face + of the stern old man was transformed. + </p> + <p> + “Be quaet now, lassie. Hear me now, I am telling you,” he admonished the + little girl in his arms, while there flowed over his face a look of + half-shamed delight that seemed to fill up and smooth out all its severe + lines. + </p> + <p> + Hughie was still gazing and wondering when the old man, catching his + earnest, wide-open gaze, broke forth suddenly, in a voice nearly jovial, + “Well, lad, so you have taken up the school again. You will be having a + fine time of it altogether.” + </p> + <p> + The lad, startled more by the joviality of his manner than by the + suddenness of his speech, hastily replied, “Indeed, we are not, then.” + </p> + <p> + “What! what!” replied the old man, returning to his normal aspect of + severity. “Do you not know that you have great privileges now?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted Hughie. “If we had Archie Munro again.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is wrong with the new man?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know. He's not a bit nice. He's—” + </p> + <p> + “Too many rules,” said Thomas, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said his father, with a note of triumph in his tone; “so that's it, + is it? He will be bringing you to the mark, I warrant you. And indeed it's + high time, for I doubt Archie Munro was just a little soft with you.” + </p> + <p> + The old man's tone was aggravating enough, but his reference to the old + master was too much for Hughie, and even Thomas was moved to words more + than was his wont in his father's presence. + </p> + <p> + “He has too many rules,” repeated Thomas, stolidly, “and they will not be + kept.” + </p> + <p> + “And he is as proud as he can be,” continued Hughie. “Comes along with his + cane and his stand-up collar, and lifts his hat off to the big girls, and—and—och! + he's just as stuck-up as anything!” Hughie's vocabulary was not equal to + his contempt. + </p> + <p> + “There will not be much wrong with his cane in the Twentieth School, I + dare say,” went on the old man, grimly. “As for lifting his hat, it is + time some of them were learning manners. When I was a boy we were made to + mind our manners, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “So are we!” replied Hughie, hotly; “but we don't go shoween off like + that! And then himself and his rules!” Hughie's disgust was quite + unutterable. + </p> + <p> + “Rules!” exclaimed the old man. “Ay, that is what is the trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Hughie, with a spice of mischief, “if Thomas is late for + school he will have to bring a note of excuse.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good indeed. And why should he be late at all?” + </p> + <p> + “And if any one wants a pencil he can't ask for it unless he gets + permission from the master.” + </p> + <p> + “Capital!” said the old man, rubbing his hands delightedly. “He's the + right sort, whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you keep Thomas home a day or a week, you will have to write to + the master about it,” continued Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “And what for, pray?” said the old man, hastily. “May I not keep—but—Yes, + that's a very fine rule, too. It will keep the boys from the woods, I am + thinking.” + </p> + <p> + “But think of big Murdie Cameron holding up his hand to ask leave to speak + to Bob Fraser!” + </p> + <p> + “And why not indeed? If he's not too big to be in school he's not too big + for that. Man alive! you should have seen the master in my school days lay + the lads over the forms and warm their backs to them.” + </p> + <p> + “As big as Murdie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and bigger. And what's more, he would send for them to their homes, + and bring them strapped to a wheel-barrow. Yon was a master for you!” + </p> + <p> + Hughie snorted. “Huh! I tell you what, we wouldn't stand that. And we + won't stand this man either.” + </p> + <p> + “And what will you be doing now, Hughie?” quizzed the old man. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Hughie, reddening at the sarcasm, “I will not do much, but + the big boys will just carry him out.” + </p> + <p> + “And who will be daring to do that, Hughie?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Murdie, and Bob Fraser, and Curly Ross, and Don, and—and + Thomas, there,” added Hughie, fearing to hurt Thomas' feelings by leaving + him out. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said the old man, shutting his lips tight on his pipestem and + puffing with a smacking noise, “let me catch Thomas at that!” + </p> + <p> + “And I would help, too,” said Hughie, valiantly, fearing he had exposed + his friend, and wishing to share his danger. + </p> + <p> + “Well, your father would be seeing to that,” said the old man, with great + satisfaction, feeling that Hughie's discipline might be safely left in the + minister's hands. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause of a few moments, and then a quiet voice inquired + gently, “He will be a very big man, Hughie, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just ordinary,” said Hughie, innocently, turning to Mrs. Finch. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, they will not be requiring you and Thomas, I am thinking, to + carry him out.” At which Hughie and Billy Jack and Jessac laughed aloud, + but Thomas and his father only looked stolidly into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Thomas,” said his mother, “take your fiddle a bit. Hughie will like + a tune.” There was no need of any further discussing the new master. + </p> + <p> + But Thomas was very shy about his fiddle, and besides he was not in a mood + for it; his father's words had rasped him. It took the united persuasions + of Billy Jack and Jessac and Hughie to get the fiddle into Thomas' hands, + but after a few tuning scrapes all shyness and moodiness vanished, and + soon the reels and strathspeys were dropping from Thomas' flying fingers + in a way that set Hughie's blood tingling. But when the fiddler struck + into Money Musk, Billy Jack signed Jessac to him, and whispering to her, + set her out on the middle of the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, I don't like to,” said Jessac, twisting her apron into her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Come away, Jessac,” said her mother, quietly, “do your best.” And Jessac, + laying aside shyness, went at her Highland reel with the same serious + earnestness she gave to her tidying or her knitting. Daintily she tripped + the twenty-four steps of that intricate, ancient dance of the Celt people, + whirling, balancing, poising, snapping her fingers, and twinkling her feet + in the true Highland style, till once more her father's face smoothed out + its wrinkles, and beamed like a harvest moon. Hughie gazed, uncertain + whether to allow himself to admire Jessac's performance, or to regard it + with a boy's scorn, as she was only a girl. And yet he could not escape + the fascination of the swift, rhythmic movement of the neat, twinkling + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well done, Jessac, lass,” said her father, proudly. “But what would the + minister be saying at such frivolity?” he added, glancing at Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! he can do it himself well enough,” said Hughie, “and I tell you + what, I only wish I could do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll show you,” said Jessac, shyly, but for the first time in his life + Hughie's courage failed, and though he would have given much to be able to + make his feet twinkle through the mazes of the Highland reel, he could not + bring himself to accept teaching from Jessac. If it had only been Thomas + or Billy Jack who had offered, he would soon enough have been on the + floor. For a moment he hesitated, then with a sudden inspiration, he + cried, “All right. Do it again. I'll watch.” But the mother said quietly, + “I think that will do, Jessac. And I am afraid your father will be going + with cold hands if you don't hurry with those mitts.” And Jessac put up + her lip with the true girl's grimace and went away for her knitting, to + Hughie's disappointment and relief. + </p> + <p> + Soon Billy Jack took down the tin lantern, pierced with holes into curious + patterns, through which the candle-light rayed forth, and went out to bed + the horses. In spite of protests from all the family, Hughie set forth + with him, carrying the lantern and feeling very much the farmer, while + Billy Jack took two pails of boiled oats and barley, with a mixture of + flax-seed, which was supposed to give to the Finch's team their famous and + superior gloss. When they returned from the stable they found in the + kitchen Thomas, who was rubbing a composition of tallow and bees-wax into + his boots to make them water-proof, and the mother, who was going about + setting the table for the breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad you have to go to bed, mother,” said Billy Jack, struggling with + his boot-jack. “You might just go on getting the breakfast, and what a + fine start that would give you for the day.” + </p> + <p> + “You hurry, William John, to bed with that poor lad. What would his mother + say? He must be fairly exhausted.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a bit tired,” said Hughie, brightly, his face radiant with the + delight of his new experiences. + </p> + <p> + “You will need all your sleep, my boy,” said the mother, kindly, “for we + rise early here. But,” she added, “you will lie till the boys are through + with their work, and Thomas will waken you for your breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, no! I'm going to get up,” announced Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “But, Hughie,” said Billy Jack, seriously, “if you and Thomas are going to + carry out that man to-morrow, you will need a mighty lot of sleep + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, William John,” said the mother to her eldest son, “you mustn't + tease Hughie. And it's not good to be saying such things, even in fun, to + boys like Thomas and Hughie.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true, mother, for they're rather fierce already.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, they are not that. And I am sure they will do nothing that will + shame their parents.” + </p> + <p> + To this Hughie made no reply. It was no easy matter to harmonize the + thought of his parents with the exploit of ejecting the master from the + school, so he only said good night, and went off with the silent Thomas to + bed. But in the visions of his head which haunted him the night long, + racing horses and little girls with tossing curls and twinkling feet were + strangely mingled with wild conflicts with the new master; and it seemed + to him that he had hardly dropped off to sleep, when he was awake again to + see Thomas standing beside him with a candle in his hand, announcing that + breakfast was ready. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been out to the stable?” he eagerly inquired, and Thomas nodded. + In great disappointment and a little shamefacedly he made his appearance + at the breakfast-table. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Hughie as if it must be still the night before, for it was + quite dark outside. He had never had breakfast by candle-light before in + his life, and he felt as if it all were still a part of his dreams, until + he found himself sitting beside Billy Jack on a load of saw-logs, waving + good by to the group at the door, the old man, whose face in the gray + morning light had resumed its wonted severe look, the quiet, little + dark-faced woman, smiling kindly at him and bidding him come again, and + the little maid at her side with the dark ringlets, who glanced at him + from behind the shelter of her mother's skirts, with shy boldness. + </p> + <p> + As Hughie was saying his good bys, he was thinking most of the twinkling + feet and the tossing curls, and so he added to his farewells, “Good by, + Jessac. I'm going to learn that reel from you some day,” and then, turning + about, he straight-way forgot all about her and her reel, for Billy Jack's + horses were pawing to be off, and rolling their solemn bells, while their + breath rose in white clouds above their heads, wreathing their manes in + hoary rime. + </p> + <p> + “Git-ep, lads,” said Billy Jack, hauling his lines taut and flourishing + his whip. The bays straightened their backs, hung for a few moments on + their tugs, for the load had frozen fast during the night, and then moved + off at a smart trot, the bells solemnly booming out, and the sleighs + creaking over the frosty snow. + </p> + <p> + “Man!” said Hughie, enthusiastically, “I wish I could draw logs all + winter.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not too bad a job on a day like this,” assented Billy Jack. And + indeed, any one might envy him the work on such a morning. Over the + treetops the rays of the sun were beginning to shoot their rosy darts up + into the sky, and to flood the clearing with light that sparkled and + shimmered upon the frost particles, glittering upon and glorifying snow + and trees, and even the stumps and fences. Around the clearing stood the + forest, dark and still, except for the frost reports that now and then + rang out like pistol shots. To Hughie, the early morning invested the + forest with a new beauty and a new wonder. The dim light of the dawning + day deepened the silence, so that involuntarily he hushed his voice in + speaking, and the deep-toned roll of the sleigh-bells seemed to smite upon + that dim, solemn quiet with startling blows. On either side the balsams + and spruces, with their mantles of snow, stood like white-swathed + sentinels on guard—silent, motionless, alert. Hughie looked to see + them move as the team drove past. + </p> + <p> + As they left the more open butternut ridge and descended into the depths + of the big pine swamp, the dim light faded into deeper gloom, and Hughie + felt as if he were in church, and an awe gathered upon him. + </p> + <p> + “It's awful still,” he said to Billy Jack in a low tone, and Billy Jack, + catching the look in the boy's face, checked the light word upon his lips, + and gazed around into the deep forest glooms with new eyes. The mystery + and wonder of the forest had never struck him before. It had hitherto been + to him a place for hunting or for getting big saw-logs. But to-day he saw + it with Hughie's eyes, and felt the majesty of its beauty and silence. For + a long time they drove without a word. + </p> + <p> + “Say, it's mighty fine, isn't it?” he said, adopting Hughie's low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid!” exclaimed Hughie. “My! I could just hug those big trees. They + look at me like—like your mother, don't they, or mine?” But this was + beyond Billy Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Like my mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you know, quiet and—and—kind, and nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Thomas, breaking in for the first time, “that's just it. They + do look, sure enough, like my mother and yours. They have both got that + look.” + </p> + <p> + “Git-ep!” said Billy Jack to his team. “These fellows'll be ketchin' + something bad if we don't get into the open soon. Shouldn't wonder if + they've got 'em already, making out their mothers like an old white pine. + Git-ep, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Hughie, “you know what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much I don't. But it don't matter so long as you're feelin' all + right. This swamp's rather bad for the groojums.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” Hughie's eyes began to open wide as he glanced into the forest. + </p> + <p> + “The groojums. Never heard of them things? They ketch a fellow in places + like this when it's gettin' on towards midnight, and about daylight it's + almost as bad.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they like?” asked Hughie, upon whom the spell of the forest lay. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mighty queer. Always crawl up on your back, and ye can't help + twistin' round.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie glanced at Thomas and was at once relieved. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw! Billy Jack, you can't fool me. I know you.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're safe enough now. They don't bother you much in the + clearing,” said Billy Jack, encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, fiddle! I'm not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody is in the open, and especially in the daytime.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't care for your old groojums.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess you care more for your new boss yonder, eh?” said Billy Jack, + nodding toward the school-house, which now came into view. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Hughie, with a groan, “I just hate going to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be all right when you get there,” said Billy Jack, cheerfully. + “It's like goin' in swimmin'.” + </p> + <p> + Soon they were at the cross-roads. + </p> + <p> + “Good by, Billy Jack,” said Hughie, feeling as if he had been on a long, + long visit. “I've had an awfully good time, and I'd like to go back with + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wish you would,” said Billy Jack, heartily. “Come again soon. And don't + carry out the master to-day. It looks like a storm; he might get cold.” + </p> + <p> + “He had better mind out, then,” cried Hughie after Billy Jack, and set off + with Thomas for the school. But neither Hughie nor Thomas had any idea of + the thrilling experiences awaiting them in the Twentieth School before the + week was done. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE CRISIS + </h3> + <p> + The first days of that week were days of strife. Murdie Cameron and Bob + Fraser and the other big boys succeeded in keeping in line with the + master's rules and regulations. They were careful never to be late, and so + saved themselves the degradation of bringing an excuse. But the smaller + boys set themselves to make the master's life a burden, and succeeded + beyond their highest expectations, for the master was quick of temper, and + was determined at all costs to exact full and prompt obedience. There was + more flogging done those first six days than during any six months of + Archie Munro's rule. Sometimes the floggings amounted to little, but + sometimes they were serious, and when those fell upon the smaller boys, + the girls would weep and the bigger boys would grind their teeth and + swear. + </p> + <p> + The situation became so acute that Murdie Cameron and the big boys decided + that they would quit the school. They were afraid the temptation to throw + the master out would some day be more than they could bear, and for men + who had played their part, not without credit, in the Scotch River fights, + to carry out the master would have been an exploit hardly worthy of them. + So, in dignified contempt of the master and his rules, they left the + school after the third day. + </p> + <p> + Their absence did not help matters much; indeed, the master appeared to be + relieved, and proceeded to tame the school into submission. It was little + Jimmie Cameron who precipitated the crisis. Jimmie's nose, upon which he + relied when struggling with his snickers, had an unpleasant trick of + failing him at critical moments, and of letting out explosive snorts of + the most disturbing kind. He had finally been warned that upon his next + outburst punishment would fall. + </p> + <p> + It was Friday afternoon, the drowsy hour just before recess, while the + master was explaining to the listless Euclid class the mysteries of the + forty-seventh proposition, that suddenly a snort of unusual violence burst + upon the school. Immediately every eye was upon the master, for all had + heard and had noted his threat to Jimmie. + </p> + <p> + “James, was that you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer, except such as could be gathered from Jimmie's very + red and very shamed face. + </p> + <p> + “James, stand up!” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie wriggled to his feet, and stood a heap of various angles. + </p> + <p> + “Now, James, you remember what I promised you? Come here, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie came slowly to the front, growing paler at each step, and stood + with a dazed look on his face, before the master. He had never been + thrashed in all his life. At home the big brothers might cuff him + good-naturedly, or his mother thump him on the head with her thimble, but + a serious whipping was to him an unknown horror. + </p> + <p> + The master drew forth his heavy black strap with impressive deliberation + and ominous silence. The preparations for punishment were so elaborate and + imposing that the big boys guessed that the punishment itself would not + amount to much. Not so Jimmie. He stood numb with fear and horrible + expectation. The master lifted up the strap. + </p> + <p> + “James, hold out your hand!” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie promptly clutched his hand behind his back. + </p> + <p> + “Hold out your hand, sir, at once!” No answer. + </p> + <p> + “James, you must do as you are told. Your punishment for disobedience will + be much severer than for laughing.” But Jimmie stood pale, silent, with + his hands tight clasped behind his back. + </p> + <p> + The master stepped forward, and grasping the little boy's arm, tried to + pull his hand to the front; but Jimmie, with a roar like that of a young + bull, threw himself flat on his face on the floor and put his hands under + him. The school burst into a laugh of triumph, which increased the + master's embarrassment and rage. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” he said, “or it will be a worse matter for some of you than for + James.” + </p> + <p> + Then turning his attention to Jimmie, be lifted him from the floor and + tried to pull out his hand. But Jimmie kept his arms folded tight across + his breast, roaring vigorously the while, and saying over and over, “Go + away from me! Go away from me, I tell you! I'm not taking anything to do + with you.” + </p> + <p> + The big boys were enjoying the thing immensely. The master's rage was + deepening in proportion. He felt it would never do to be beaten. His whole + authority was at stake. + </p> + <p> + “Now, James,” he reasoned, “you see you are only making it worse for + yourself. I cannot allow any disobedience in the school. You must hold out + your hand.” + </p> + <p> + But Jimmie, realizing that he had come off best in the first round, stood + doggedly sniffing, his arms still folded tight. + </p> + <p> + “Now, James, I shall give you one more chance. Hold out your hand.” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie remained like a statue. + </p> + <p> + Whack! came the heavy strap over his shoulders. At once Jimmie set up his + refrain, “Go away from me, I tell you! I'm not taking anything to do with + you!” + </p> + <p> + Whack! whack! whack! fell the strap with successive blows, each heavier + than the last. There was no longer any laughing in the school. The affair + was growing serious. The girls were beginning to sob, and the bigger boys + to grow pale. + </p> + <p> + “Now, James, will you hold out your hand? You see how much worse you are + making it for yourself,” said the master, who was heartily sick of the + struggle, which he felt to be undignified, and the result of which he + feared was dubious. + </p> + <p> + But Jimmie only kept up his cry, now punctuated with sobs, “I'm—not—taking—anything—to + do—with—you.” + </p> + <p> + “Jimmie, listen to me,” said the master. “You must hold out your hand. I + cannot have boys refusing to obey me in this school.” But Jimmie caught + the entreaty in the tone, and knowing that the battle was nearly over, + kept obstinately silent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said the master, suddenly, “you must take it,” and lifting + the strap, he laid it with such sharp emphasis over Jimmie's shoulders + that Jimmie's voice rose in a wilder roar than usual, and the girls burst + into audible weeping. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, above all the hubbub, rose a voice, clear and sharp. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” It was Thomas Finch, of all people, standing with face white and + tense, and regarding the master with steady eyes. + </p> + <p> + The school gazed thunderstruck at the usually slow and stolid Thomas. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” said the master, gladly turning from Jimmie. But + Thomas stood silent, as much surprised as the master at his sudden + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + He stood hesitating for a moment, and then said, “You can thrash me in his + place. He's a little chap, and has never been thrashed.” + </p> + <p> + The master misunderstood his hesitation for fear, pushed Jimmie aside, + threw down his strap, and seized a birch rod. + </p> + <p> + “Come forward, sir! I'll put an end to your insubordination, at any rate. + Hold out your hand!” + </p> + <p> + Thomas held out his hand till the master finished one birch rod. + </p> + <p> + “The other hand, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Another birch rod was used up, but Thomas neither uttered a sound nor made + a move till the master had done, then he asked, in a strained voice, “Were + you going to give Jimmie all that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + The master caught the biting sneer in the tone, and lost himself + completely. + </p> + <p> + “Do you dare to answer me back?” he cried. He opened his desk, took out a + rawhide, and without waiting to ask for his hand, began to lay the rawhide + about Thomas's shoulders and legs, till he was out of breath. + </p> + <p> + “Now, perhaps you will learn your place, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Thomas, looking him steadily in the eye. + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome. And I'll give you as much more whenever you show that + you need it.” The slight laugh with which he closed this brutal speech + made Thomas wince as he had not during his whole terrible thrashing, but + still he had not a word to say. + </p> + <p> + “Now, James, come here!” said the master, turning to Jimmie. “You see what + happens when a boy is insubordinate.” Jimmie came trembling. “Hold out + your hand!” Out came Jimmie's hand at once. Whack! fell the strap. + </p> + <p> + “The other!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop it!” roared Thomas. “I took his thrashing.” + </p> + <p> + “The other!” said the master, ignoring Thomas. + </p> + <p> + With a curious savage snarl Thomas sprung at him. The master, however, was + on the alert, and swinging round, met him with a straight facer between + the eyes, and Thomas went to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! my boy! I'll teach you something you have yet to learn.” + </p> + <p> + For answer came another cry, “Come on, boys!” It was Ranald Macdonald, + coming over the seats, followed by Don Cameron, Billy Ross, and some + smaller boys. The master turned to meet them. + </p> + <p> + “Come along!” he said, backing up to his desk. “But I warn you it's not a + strap or a rawhide I shall use.” + </p> + <p> + Ranald paid no attention to his words, but came straight toward him, and + when at arm's length, sprung at him with the cry, “Horo, boys!” + </p> + <p> + But before he could lay his hands upon the master, he received a blow + straight on the bridge of the nose that staggered him back, stunned and + bleeding. By this time Thomas was up again, and rushing in was received in + like manner, and fell back over a bench. + </p> + <p> + “How do you like it, boys?” smiled the master. “Come right along.” + </p> + <p> + The boys obeyed his invitation, approaching him, but more warily, and + awaiting their chance to rush. Suddenly Thomas, with a savage snarl, put + his head down and rushed in beneath the master's guard, paid no attention + to the heavy blow he received on the head, and locking his arms round the + master's middle, buried his head close into his chest. + </p> + <p> + At once Ranald and Billy Ross threw themselves upon the struggling pair + and carried them to the floor, the master underneath. There was a few + moments of fierce struggling, and then the master lay still, with the four + boys holding him down for dear life. + </p> + <p> + It was Thomas who assumed command. + </p> + <p> + “Don't choke him so, Ranald,” he said. “And clear out of the way, all you + girls and little chaps.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do, Thomas?” asked Don, acknowledging Thomas's + new-born leadership. + </p> + <p> + “Tie him up,” said Thomas. “Get me a sash.” + </p> + <p> + At once two or three little boys rushed to the hooks and brought one or + two of the knitted sashes that hung there, and Thomas proceeded to tie the + master's legs. + </p> + <p> + While he was thus busily engaged, a shadow darkened the door, and a voice + exclaimed, “What is all this about?” It was the minister, who had been + driving past and had come upon the terrified, weeping children rushing + home. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Thomas? And you, Don?” + </p> + <p> + The boys let go their hold and stood up, shamed but defiant. + </p> + <p> + Immediately the master was on his feet, and with a swift, fierce blow, + caught Thomas on the chin. Thomas, taken off his guard, fell with a thud + on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Stop that, young man!” said the minister, catching his arm. “That's a + coward's blow.” + </p> + <p> + “Hands off!” said the master, shaking himself free and squaring up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Ye would, would ye?” said the minister, gripping him by the neck and + shaking him as he might a child. “Lift ye're hand to me, would ye? I'll + break you're back to ye, and that I will.” So saying, the minister seized + him by the arms and held him absolutely helpless. The master ceased to + struggle, and put down his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ye'd better, my man,” said the minister, giving him a fling backward. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Don had been holding snow to Thomas's head, and had brought him + round. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” said the minister to the boys, “what does all this mean?” + </p> + <p> + The boys were all silent, but the master spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It is a case of rank and impudent insubordination, sir, and I demand the + expulsion of those impudent rascals.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said the minister, “be sure there will be a thorough + investigation, and I greatly misjudge the case if there are not faults on + both sides. And for one thing, the man who can strike such a cowardly blow + as you did a moment ago would not be unlikely to be guilty of injustice + and cruelty.” + </p> + <p> + “It is none of your business,” said the master, insolently. + </p> + <p> + “You will find that I shall make it my business,” said the minister. “And + now, boys, be off to your homes, and be here Monday morning at nine + o'clock, when this matter shall be gone into.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + “ONE THAT RULETH WELL HIS OWN HOUSE” + </h3> + <p> + The news of the school trouble ran through the section like fire through a + brule. The younger generations when they heard how Thomas Finch had dared + the master, raised him at once to the rank of hero, but the heads of + families received the news doubtfully, and wondered what the rising + generation was coming to. + </p> + <p> + The next day Billy Jack heard the story in the Twentieth store, and with + some anxiety waited for the news to reach his father's ears, for to tell + the truth, Billy Jack, man though he was, held his father in dread. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come to do it?” he asked Thomas. “Why didn't you let Don + begin? It was surely Don's business.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. It slipped out,” replied Thomas. “I couldn't stand Jimmie's + yelling any longer. I didn't know I said anything till I found myself + standing up, and after that I didn't seem to care for anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Man! it was fine, though,” said Billy Jack. “I didn't think it was in + you.” And Thomas felt more than repaid for all his cruel beating. It was + something to win the approval of Billy Jack in an affair of this kind. + </p> + <p> + It was at church on the Sabbath day that Donald Finch heard about his + son's doings in the school the week before. The minister, in his sermon, + thought fit to dwell upon the tendency of the rising generation to revolt + against authority in all things, and solemnly laid upon parents the duty + and responsibility of seeing to it that they ruled their households well. + </p> + <p> + It was not just the advice that Donald Finch stood specially in need of, + but he was highly pleased with the sermon, and was enlarging upon it in + the churchyard where the people gathered between the services, when Peter + McRae, thinking that old Donald was hardly taking the minister's advice to + himself as he ought, and not knowing that the old man was ignorant of all + that had happened in the school, answered him somewhat severely. + </p> + <p> + “It is good to be approving the sermon, but I would rather be seeing you + make a practical application of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, that is true,” replied Donald, “and it would not be amiss for + more than me to make application of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, then, if all reports be true,” replied Peter, “it would be well + for you to begin at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McRae,” said Donald, earnestly, “it is myself that knows well enough + my shortcomings, but if there is any special reason for your remark, I am + not aware of it.” + </p> + <p> + This light treatment of what to Peter had seemed a grievous offense + against all authority incensed the old dominie beyond all endurance. + </p> + <p> + “And do you not think that the conduct of your son last week calls for any + reproof? And is it you that will stand up and defend it in the face of the + minister and his sermon upon it this day?” + </p> + <p> + Donald gazed at him a few moments as if he had gone mad. At length he + replied, slowly, “I do not wish to forget that you are an elder of the + church, Mr. McRae, and I will not be charging you with telling lies on me + and my family—” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, man,” broke in Long John Cameron, seeing how the matter stood; + “he's just referring to yon little difference Thomas had with the master + last week. But it's just nothing. Come away in.” + </p> + <p> + “Thomas?” gasped Donald. “My Thomas?” + </p> + <p> + “You have not heard, then,” said Peter, in surprise, and old Donald only + shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then it's time you did,” replied Peter, severely, “for such things are a + disgrace to the community.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Long John. “Not a bit of it! I think none the less of + Thomas for it.” But in matters of this kind Long John could hardly be + counted an authority, for it was not so very long ago since he had been + beguiled into an affair at the Scotch River which, while it brought him + laurels at the hands of the younger generation, did not add to his + reputation with the elders of the church. + </p> + <p> + It did not help matters much that Murdie Cameron and others of his set + proceeded to congratulate old Donald, in their own way, upon his son's + achievement, and with all the more fervor that they perceived that it + moved the solemn Peter to righteous wrath. From one and another the tale + came forth with embellishments, till Donald Finch was reduced to such a + state of voiceless rage and humiliation that when, at the sound of the + opening psalm the congregation moved into the church for the Gaelic + service, the old man departed for his home, trembling, silent, amazed. + </p> + <p> + How Thomas could have brought this disgrace upon him, he could not + imagine. If it had been William John, who, with all his good nature, had a + temper brittle enough, he would not have been surprised. And then the + minister's sermon, of which he had spoken in such open and enthusiastic + approval, how it condemned him for his neglect of duty toward his family, + and held up his authority over his household to scorn. It was a terrible + blow to his pride. + </p> + <p> + “It is the Lord's judgment upon me,” he said to himself, as he tramped his + way through the woods. “It is the curse of Eli that is hanging over me and + mine.” And with many vows he resolved that, at all costs, he would do his + duty in this crisis and bring Thomas to a sense of his sins. + </p> + <p> + It was in this spirit that he met his family at the supper-table, after + their return from the Gaelic service. + </p> + <p> + “What is this I hear about you, Thomas?” he began, as Thomas came in and + took his place at the table. “What is this I hear about you, sir?” he + repeated, making a great effort to maintain a calm and judicial tone. + </p> + <p> + Thomas remained silent, partly because he usually found speech difficult, + but chiefly because he dreaded his father's wrath. + </p> + <p> + “What is this that has become the talk of the countryside and the disgrace + of my name?” continued the father, in deepening tones. + </p> + <p> + “No very great disgrace, surely,” said Billy Jack, lightly, hoping to turn + his father's anger. + </p> + <p> + “Be you silent, sir!” commanded the old man, sternly. “I will ask for your + opinion when I require it. You and others beside you in this house need to + learn your places.” + </p> + <p> + Billy Jack made no reply, fearing to make matters worse, though he found + it hard not to resent this taunt, which he knew well was flung at his + mother. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder at you, Thomas, after such a sermon as yon. I wonder you are + able to sit there unconcerned at this table. I wonder you are not hiding + your head in shame and confusion.” The old man was lashing himself into a + white rage, while Thomas sat looking stolidly before him, his slow tongue + finding no words of defense. And indeed, he had little thought of + defending himself. He was conscious of an acute self-condemnation, and + yet, struggling through his slow-moving mind there was a feeling that in + some sense he could not define, there was justification for what he had + done. + </p> + <p> + “It is not often that Thomas has grieved you,” ventured the mother, + timidly, for, with all her courage, she feared her husband when he was in + this mood. + </p> + <p> + “Woman, be silent!” blazed forth the old man, as if he had been waiting + for her words. “It is not for you to excuse his wickedness. You are too + fond of that work, and your children are reaping the fruits of it.” + </p> + <p> + Billy Jack looked up quickly as if to answer, but his mother turned her + face full upon him and commanded him with steady eyes, giving, herself, no + sign of emotion except for a slight tightening of the lips and a touch of + color in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Your children have well learned their lesson of rebellion and deceit,” + continued her husband, allowing his passion a free rein. “But I vow unto + the Lord I will put an end to it now, whatever. And I will give you to + remember, sir,” turning to Thomas, “to the end of your days, this + occasion. And now, hence from this table. Let me not see your face till + the Sabbath is past, and then, if the Lord spares me, I shall deal with + you.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas hesitated a moment as if he had not quite taken in his father's + words, then, leaving his supper untouched, he rose slowly, and without a + word climbed the ladder to the loft. The mother followed him a moment with + her eyes, and then once more turning to Billy Jack, held him with calm, + steady gaze. Her immediate fear was for her eldest son. Thomas, she knew, + would in the mean time simply suffer what might be his lot, but for many a + day she had lived in terror of an outbreak between her eldest son and her + husband. Again Billy Jack caught her look, and commanded himself to + silence. + </p> + <p> + “The fire is low, William John,” she said, in a quiet voice. Billy Jack + rose, and from the wood-box behind the stove, replenished the fire, + reading perfectly his mother's mind, and resolving at all costs to do her + will. + </p> + <p> + At the taking of the books that night the prayer, which was spoken in a + tone of awful and almost inaudible solemnity, was for the most part an + exaltation of the majesty and righteousness of the government of God, and + a lamentation over the wickedness and rebellion of mankind. And Billy Jack + thought it was no good augury that it closed with a petition for grace to + maintain the honor of that government, and to uphold that righteous + majesty in all the relations of life. It was a woeful evening to them all, + and as soon as possible the household went miserably to bed. + </p> + <p> + Before going to her room the mother slipped up quietly to the loft and + found Thomas lying in his bunk, dressed and awake. He was still puzzling + out his ethical problem. His conscience clearly condemned him for his + fight with the master, and yet, somehow he could not regret having stood + up for Jimmie and taken his punishment. He expected no mercy at his + father's hands next morning. The punishment he knew would be cruel enough, + but it was not the pain that Thomas was dreading; he was dimly struggling + with the sense of outrage, for ever since the moment he had stood up and + uttered his challenge to the master, he had felt himself to be different. + That moment now seemed to belong to the distant years when he was a boy, + and now he could not imagine himself submitting to a flogging from any + man, and it seemed to him strange and almost impossible that even his + father should lift his hand to him. + </p> + <p> + “You are not sleeping, Thomas,” said his mother, going up to his bunk. + </p> + <p> + “No, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have had no supper at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want any, mother.” + </p> + <p> + The mother sat silent beside him for a time, and then said, quietly, “You + did not tell me, Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “No, mother, I didn't like.” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been better that your father should have heard this from—I + mean, should have heard it at home. And—you might have told me, + Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mother, I wish now I had. But, indeed, I can't understand how it + happened. I don't feel as if it was me at all.” And then Thomas told his + mother all the tale, finishing his story with the words, “And I couldn't + help it, mother, at all.” + </p> + <p> + The mother remained silent for a little, and then, with a little tremor in + her voice, she replied: “No, Thomas, I know you couldn't help it, and I—” + here her voice quite broke—“I am not ashamed of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not, mother?” said Thomas, sitting up suddenly in great surprise. + “Then I don't care. I couldn't make it out well.” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind, Thomas, it will be well,” and she leaned over him and + kissed him. Thomas felt her face wet with tears, and his stolid reserve + broke down. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, mother, I don't care now,” he cried, his breath coming in + great sobs. “I don't care at all.” And he put his arms round his mother, + clinging to her as if he had been a child. + </p> + <p> + “I know, laddie, I know,” whispered his mother. “Never you fear, never + fear.” And then, as if to herself, she added, “Thank the Lord you are not + a coward, whatever.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas found himself again without words, but he held his mother fast, his + big body shaking with his sobs. + </p> + <p> + “And, Thomas,” she continued, after a pause, “your father—we must + just be patient.” All her life long this had been her struggle. “And—and—he + is a good man.” Her tears were now flowing fast, and her voice had quite + lost its calm. + </p> + <p> + Thomas was alarmed and distressed. He had never in all his life seen his + mother weep, and rarely had heard her voice break. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, mother,” he said, growing suddenly quiet himself. “Don't you mind, + mother. It'll be all right, and I'm not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, rising and regaining her self-control, “it will be all + right, Thomas. You go to sleep.” And there were such evident reserves of + strength behind her voice that Thomas lay down, certain that all would be + well. His mother had never failed him. + </p> + <p> + The mother went downstairs with the purpose in her heart of having a talk + with her husband, but Donald Finch knew her ways well, and had resolved + that he would have no speech with her upon the matter, for he knew that it + would be impossible for him to persevere in his intention to “deal with” + Thomas, if he allowed his wife to have any talk with him. + </p> + <p> + The morning brought the mother no opportunity of speech with her husband. + He, contrary to his custom, remained until breakfast in his room. Outside + in the kitchen, he could hear Billy Jack's cheerful tones and hearty + laugh, and it angered him to think that his displeasure should have so + little effect upon his household. If the house had remained shrouded in + gloom, and the family had gone about on tiptoes and with bated breath, it + would have shown no more than a proper appreciation of the father's + displeasure; but as Billy Jack's cheerful words and laughter fell upon his + ear, he renewed his vows to do his duty that day in upholding his + authority, and bringing to his son a due sense of his sin. + </p> + <p> + In grim silence he ate his breakfast, except for a sharp rebuke to Billy + Jack, who had been laboring throughout the meal to make cheerful + conversation with Jessac and his mother. At his father's rebuke Billy Jack + dropped his cheerful tone, and avoiding his mother's eyes, he assumed at + once an attitude of open defiance, his tones and words plainly offering to + his father war, if war he would have. + </p> + <p> + “You will come to me in the room after breakfast,” said his father, as + Thomas rose to go to the stable. + </p> + <p> + “There's a meeting of the trustees at nine o'clock at the school-house at + which Thomas must be present,” interposed Billy Jack, in firm, steady + tones. + </p> + <p> + “He may go when I have done with him,” said his father, angrily, “and + meantime you will attend to your own business.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I will that!” Billy Jack's response came back with fierce + promptness. + </p> + <p> + The old man glanced at him, caught the light in his eyes, hesitated a + moment, and then, throwing all restraint to the winds, thundered out, + “What do you mean, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “What I say. I am going to attend to my own business, and that soon.” + Billy Jack's tone was quick, eager, defiant. + </p> + <p> + Again the old man hesitated, and then replied, “Go to it, then.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going, and I am going to take Thomas to that meeting at nine + o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know that you had business there,” said the old man, + sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “Then you may know it now,” blazed forth Billy Jack, “for I am going. And + as sure as I stand here, I will see that Thomas gets fair play there if he + doesn't at home, if I have to lick every trustee in the section.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your peace, sir!” said his father, coming nearer him. “Do not give + me any impertinence, and do not accuse me of unfairness.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard Thomas's side of the story?” returned Billy Jack. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard enough, and more than enough.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't heard both sides.” + </p> + <p> + “I know the truth of it, whatever, the shameful and disgraceful truth of + it. I know that the country-side is ringing with it. I know that in the + house of God the minister held up my family to the scorn of the people. + And I vowed to do my duty to my house.” + </p> + <p> + The old man's passion had risen to such a height that for a moment Billy + Jack quailed before it. In the pause that followed the old man's outburst + the mother came to her son. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, William John! You are not to forget yourself, nor your duty to your + father and to me. Thomas will receive full justice in this matter.” There + was a quiet strength and dignity in her manner that commanded immediate + attention from both men. + </p> + <p> + The mother went on in a low, even voice, “Your father has his duty to + perform, and you must not take upon yourself to interfere.” + </p> + <p> + Billy Jack could hardly believe his ears. That his mother should desert + him, and should support what he knew she felt to be injustice and tyranny, + was more than he could understand. No less perplexed was her husband. + </p> + <p> + As they stood there looking at each other, uncertain as to the next step, + there came a knock at the back door. The mother went to open it, pausing + on her way to push back some chairs and put the room to rights, thus + allowing the family to regain its composure. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mrs. Finch. You will be thinking I have slept in your barn + all night.” It was Long John Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Come away in, Mr. Cameron. It is never too early for friends to come to + this house,” said Mrs. Finch, her voice showing her great relief. + </p> + <p> + Long John came in, glanced shrewdly about, and greeted Mr. Finch with + great heartiness. + </p> + <p> + “It's a fine winter day, Mr. Finch, but it looks as if we might have a + storm. You are busy with the logs, I hear.” + </p> + <p> + Old Donald was slowly recovering himself. + </p> + <p> + “And a fine lot you are having,” continued Long John. “I was just saying + the other day that it was wonderful the work you could get through.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, it is hard enough to do anything here,” said Donald Finch, with + some bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “You may say so,” responded Long John, cheerfully. “The snow is that deep + in the bush, and—” + </p> + <p> + “You were wanting to see me, Mr. Cameron,” interrupted Donald. “I have a + business on hand which requires attention.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, and so have I. For it is—” + </p> + <p> + “And indeed, it is just as well you and all should know it, for my + disgrace is well known.” + </p> + <p> + “Disgrace!” exclaimed Long John. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, disgrace. For is it not a disgrace to have the conduct of your family + become the occasion of a sermon on the Lord's Day?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I did not think much of yon sermon, whatever,” replied Long John. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot agree with you, Mr. Cameron. It was a powerful sermon, and it + was only too sorely needed. But I hope it will not be without profit to + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, it is not the sermon you have much need of,” said Long John, “for + every one knows what a—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it is myself that needs it, but with the help of the Lord I will be + doing my duty this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am very glad to hear that,” replied Long John, “for that is why I + am come.” + </p> + <p> + “And what may you have to do with it?” asked the old man. + </p> + <p> + “As to that, indeed,” replied Long John, coolly, “I am not yet quite sure. + But if I might ask without being too bold, what is the particular duty to + which you are referring?” + </p> + <p> + “You may ask, and you and all have a right to know, for I am about to + visit upon my son his sins and shame.” + </p> + <p> + “And is it meaning to wheep him you are?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said the old man, and his lips came fiercely together. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, then, you will just do no such thing this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “And by what right do you interfere in my domestic affairs?” demanded old + Donald, with dignity. “Answer me that, Mr. Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + “Right or no right,” replied Long John, “before any man lays a finger on + Thomas there, he will need to begin with myself. And,” he added, grimly, + “there are not many in the county who would care for that job.” + </p> + <p> + Old Donald Finch looked at his visitor in speechless amazement. At length + Long John grew excited. + </p> + <p> + “Man alive!” he exclaimed, “it's a quare father you are. You may be + thinking it disgrace, but the section will be proud that there is a boy in + it brave enough to stand up for the weak against a brute bully.” And then + he proceeded to tell the tale as he had heard it from Don, with such + strong passion and such rude vigor, that in spite of himself old Donald + found his rage vanish, and his heart began to move within him toward his + son. + </p> + <p> + “And it is for that,” cried Long John, dashing his fist into his open + palm, “it is for that that you would punish your son. May God forgive me! + but the man that lays a finger on Thomas yonder, will come into sore grief + this day. Ay, lad,” continued Long John, striding toward Thomas and + gripping him by the shoulders with both hands, “you are a man, and you + stood up for the weak yon day, and if you efer will be wanting a friend, + remember John Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Mr. Cameron,” said old Donald, who was more deeply moved than + he cared to show, “it maybe as you say. It maybe the lad was not so much + in the wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “In the wrong?” roared Long John, blowing his nose hard. “In the wrong? + May my boys ever be in the wrong in such a way!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said old Donald, “we shall see about this. And if Thomas has + suffered injustice it is not his father will refuse to see him righted.” + And soon they were all off to the meeting at the school-house. + </p> + <p> + Thomas was the last to leave the room. As usual, he had not been able to + find a word, but stood white and trembling, but as he found himself alone + with his mother, once more his stolid reserve broke down, and he burst + into a strange and broken cry, “Oh, mother, mother,” but he could get no + further. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, laddie,” said his mother, “you have borne yourself well, and + your mother is proud of you.” + </p> + <p> + At the investigation held in the school-house, it became clear that, + though the insubordination of both Jimmie and Thomas was undeniable, the + provocation by the master had been very great. And though the minister, + who was superintendent of instruction for the district, insisted that the + master's authority must, at all costs, be upheld, such was the rage of old + Donald Finch and Long John Cameron that the upshot was that the master + took his departure from the section, glad enough to escape with bones + unbroken. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + FOXY + </h3> + <p> + After the expulsion of the master, the Twentieth School fell upon evil + days, for the trustees decided that it would be better to try “gurl” + teachers, as Hughie contemptuously called them; and this policy prevailed + for two or three years, with the result that the big boys left the school, + and with their departure the old heroic age passed away, to be succeeded + by an age soft, law-abiding, and distinctly commercial. + </p> + <p> + The spirit of this unheroic age was incarnate in the person of “Foxy” + Ross. Foxy got his name, in the first instance, from the peculiar pinky + red shade of hair that crowned his white, fat face, but the name stuck to + him as appropriately descriptive of his tricks and his manners. His face + was large, and smooth, and fat, with wide mouth, and teeth that glistened + when he smiled. His smile was like his face, large, and smooth, and fat. + His eyes, which were light gray—white, Hughie called them—were + shifty, avoiding the gaze that sought to read them, or piercingly keen, + according as he might choose. + </p> + <p> + After the departure of the big boys, Foxy gradually grew in influence + until his only rival in the school was Hughie. Foxy's father was the + storekeeper in the Twentieth, and this brought within Foxy's reach + possibilities of influence that gave him an immense advantage over Hughie. + By means of bull's-eyes and “lickerish” sticks, Foxy could win the + allegiance of all the smaller boys and many of the bigger ones, while with + the girls, both big and small, his willingness to please and his smooth + manners won from many affection, and from the rest toleration, although + Betsy Dan Campbell asserted that whenever Foxy Ross came near her she felt + something creeping up her backbone. + </p> + <p> + With the teacher, too, Foxy was a great favorite. He gave her worshipful + reverence and many gifts from his father's store, eloquent of his + devotion. He was never detected in mischief, and was always ready to + expose the misdemeanors of the other boys. Thus it came that Foxy was the + paramount influence within the school. + </p> + <p> + Outside, his only rival was Hughie, and at times Hughie's rivalry became + dangerous. In all games that called for skill, activity, and reckless + daring, Hughie was easily leader. In “Old Sow,” “Prisoner's Base,” but + especially in the ancient and noble game of “Shinny,” Hughie shone + peerless and supreme. Foxy hated games, and shinny, the joy of those + giants of old, who had torn victory from the Sixteenth, and even from the + Front one glorious year, was at once Foxy's disgust and terror. As a + little boy, he could not for the life of him avoid turning his back to + wait shuddering, with humping shoulders, for the enemy's charge, and in + anything like a melee, he could not help jumping into the air at every + dangerous stroke. + </p> + <p> + And thus he brought upon himself the contempt even of boys much smaller + than himself, who, under the splendid and heroic example of those who led + them, had only one ambition, to get a whack at the ball, and this ambition + they gratified on every possible occasion reckless of consequences. Hence, + when the last of the big boys, Thomas Finch, against whose solid mass + hosts had flung themselves to destruction, finally left the school, Foxy, + with great skill, managed to divert the energies of the boys to games less + violent and dangerous, and by means of his bull's-eyes and his liquorice, + and his large, fat smile, he drew after him a very considerable following + of both girls and boys. + </p> + <p> + The most interesting and most successful of Foxy's schemes was the game of + “store,” which he introduced, Foxy himself being the storekeeper. He had + the trader's genius for discovering and catering to the weaknesses of + people, and hence his store became, for certain days of the week, the + center of life during the recreation hours. The store itself was a + somewhat pretentious successor to the little brush cabin with wide open + front, where in the old days the boys used to gather, and lying upon piles + of fragrant balsam boughs before the big blazing fire placed in front, + used to listen to the master talk, and occasionally read. + </p> + <p> + Foxy's store was built of slabs covered with thick brush, and set off with + a plank counter and shelves, whereon were displayed his wares. His stock + was never too large for his personal transportation, but its variety was + almost infinite, bull's-eyes and liquorice, maple sugar and other + “sweeties,” were staples. Then, too, there were balls of gum, beautifully + clear, which in its raw state Foxy gathered from the ends of the pine logs + at the sawmill, and which, by a process of boiling and clarifying known + only to himself, he brought to a marvelous perfection. + </p> + <p> + But Foxy's genius did not confine itself to sweets. He would buy and sell + and “swap” anything, but in swapping no bargain was ever completed unless + there was money for Foxy in the deal. He had goods second-hand and new, + fish-hooks and marbles, pot-metal knives with brass handles, slate-pencils + that would “break square,” which were greatly desired by all, + skate-straps, and buckskin whangs. + </p> + <p> + But Foxy's financial ability never displayed itself with more brilliancy + than when he organized the various games of the school so as to have them + begin and end with the store. When the river and pond were covered with + clear, black ice, skating would be the rage, and then Foxy's store would + be hung with skate-straps, and with cedar-bark torches, which were greatly + in demand for the skating parties that thronged the pond at night. There + were no torches like Foxy's. The dry cedar bark any one could get from the + fences, but Foxy's torches were always well soaked in oil and bound with + wire, and were prepared with such excellent skill that they always burned + brighter and held together longer than any others. These cedar-bark + torches Foxy disposed of to the larger boys who came down to the pond at + night. Foxy's methods of finance were undoubtedly marked by ability, and + inasmuch as his accounts were never audited, the profits were large and + sure. He made it a point to purchase a certain proportion of his supplies + from his father, who was proud of his son's financial ability, but whether + his purchases always equaled his sales no one ever knew. + </p> + <p> + If the pond and river were covered with snow, then Foxy would organize a + deer-hunt, when all the old pistols in the section would be brought forth, + and the store would display a supply of gun caps, by the explosion of + which deadly ammunition the deer would be dropped in their tracks, and + drawn to the store by prancing steeds whose trappings had been purchased + from Foxy. + </p> + <p> + When the interest in the deer-hunt began to show signs of waning, Foxy + would bring forth a supply of gunpowder, for the purchase of which any boy + who owned a pistol would be ready to bankrupt himself. In this Hughie took + a leading part, although he had to depend upon the generosity of others + for the thrilling excitement of bringing down his deer with a pistol-shot, + for Hughie had never been able to save coppers enough to purchase a pistol + of his own. + </p> + <p> + But deer-hunting with pistols was forbidden by the teacher from the day + when Hughie, in his eagerness to bring his quarry down, left his ramrod in + his pistol, and firing at Aleck Dan Campbell at point-blank range, laid + him low with a lump on the side of his head as big as a marble. The only + thing that saved Aleck's life, the teacher declared, was his thick crop of + black hair. Foxy was in great wrath at Hughie for his recklessness, which + laid the deer-hunting under the teacher's ban, and which interfered + seriously with the profits of the store. + </p> + <p> + But Foxy was far too great a man to allow himself to be checked by any + such misfortune as this. He was far too astute to attempt to defy the + teacher and carry on the forbidden game, but with great ability he adapted + the principles of deer-hunting to a game even more exciting and + profitable. He organized the game of “Injuns,” some of the boys being set + apart as settlers who were to defend the fort, of which the store was the + center, the rest to constitute the invading force of savages. + </p> + <p> + The result was, that the trade in caps and gunpowder was brisker than + ever, for not only was the powder needed for the pistols, but even larger + quantities were necessary for the slow-matches which hissed their wrath at + the approaching enemy, and the mounted guns, for which earthen ink-bottles + did excellently, set out on a big stump to explode, to the destruction of + scores of creeping redskins advancing through the bush, who, after being + mutilated and mangled by these terrible explosions, were dragged into the + camp and scalped. Foxy's success was phenomenal. The few pennies and fewer + half-dimes and dimes that the boys had hoarded for many long weeks would + soon have been exhausted had Hughie not wrecked the game. + </p> + <p> + Hughie alone had no fear of Foxy, but despised him utterly. He had stood + and yelled when those heroes of old, Murdie and Don Cameron, Curly Ross, + and Ranald Macdonald, and last but not to be despised Thomas Finch, had + done battle with the enemy from the Sixteenth or the Front, and he could + not bring himself to acknowledge the leadership of Foxy Ross, for all his + bull's-eyes and liquorice. Not but what Hughie yearned for bull's-eyes and + liquorice with great yearning, but these could not atone to him for the + loss out of his life of the stir and rush and daring of the old fighting + days. And it galled him that the boys of the Sixteenth could flout the + boys of the Twentieth in all places and on all occasions with impunity. + </p> + <p> + But above all, it seemed to him a standing disgrace that the habitant + teamsters from the north, who in former days found it a necessary and wise + precaution to put their horses to a gallop as they passed the school, in + order to escape with sleighs intact from the hordes that lined the + roadway, now drove slowly past the very gate without an apparent tremor. + But besides all this, he had an instinctive shrinking from Foxy, and + sympathized with Betsy Dan in her creepy feeling whenever he approached. + Hence he refused allegiance, and drew upon himself Foxy's jealous hatred. + </p> + <p> + It was one of Foxy's few errors in judgment that, from his desire to + humiliate Hughie and to bring him to a proper state of subjection, he + succeeded in shutting him out from the leadership in the game of “Injuns,” + for Hughie promptly refused a subordinate position and withdrew, like + Achilles, to his tent. But, unlike Achilles, though he sulked, he sulked + actively, and to some purpose, for, drawing off with him his two faithful + henchmen, “Fusie”—neither Hughie nor any one else ever knew another + name for the little French boy who had drifted into the settlement and + made his home with the MacLeods—and Davie “Scotch,” a cousin of + Davie MacDougall, newly arrived from Scotland, he placed them in positions + which commanded the store entrance, and waited until the settlers had all + departed upon their expedition against the invading Indians. Foxy, with + one or two smaller boys, was left in charge of the store waiting for + trade. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments Foxy's head appeared at the door, when, whiz! a snowball + skinned his ear and flattened itself with a bang against the slabs. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on there! Stop that! You're too close up,” shouted Foxy, thinking + that the invaders were breaking the rules of the game. + </p> + <p> + Bang! a snowball from another quarter caught him fair in the neck. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you fools, you! Stop that!” cried Foxy, turning in the direction + whence the snowball came and dodging round to the side of the store. But + this was Hughie's point of attack, and soon Foxy found that the only place + of refuge was inside, whither he fled, closing the door after him. + Immediately the door became a target for the hidden foe. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the Indian war was progressing, but now and again a settler + would return to the fort for ammunition, and the moment he reached the + door a volley of snowballs would catch him and hasten his entrance. Once + in it was dangerous to come out. + </p> + <p> + By degrees Hughie augmented his besieging force from the more adventurous + settlers and Indians, and placed them in the bush surrounding the door. + </p> + <p> + The war game was demoralized, but the new game proved so much more + interesting that it was taken up with enthusiasm and prosecuted with + vigor. It was rare sport. For the whole noon hour Hughie and his + bombarding force kept Foxy and his friends in close confinement, from + which they were relieved only by the ringing of the school bell, for at + the sound of the bell Hughie and his men, having had their game, fled from + Foxy's wrath to the shelter of the school. + </p> + <p> + When Foxy appeared it was discovered that one eye was half shut, but the + light that gleamed from the other was sufficiently baleful to give token + of the wrath blazing within, and Hughie was not a little anxious to know + what form Foxy's vengeance would take. But to his surprise, by the time + recess had come Foxy's wrath had apparently vanished, and he was willing + to treat Hughie's exploit in the light of a joke. The truth was, Foxy + never allowed passion to interfere with business, and hence he resolved + that he must swallow his rage, for he realized clearly that Hughie was far + too dangerous as a foe, and that he might become exceedingly valuable as + an ally. Within a week Hughie was Foxy's partner in business, enjoying + hugely the privilege of dispensing the store goods, with certain + perquisites that naturally attached to him as storekeeper. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + FOXY'S PARTNER + </h3> + <p> + It was an evil day for Hughie when he made friends with Foxy and became + his partner in the store business, for Hughie's hoardings were never + large, and after buying a Christmas present for his mother, according to + his unfailing custom, they were reduced to a very few pennies indeed. The + opportunities for investment in his new position were many and alluring. + But all Hughie's soul went out in longing for a pistol which Foxy had + among his goods, and which would fire not only caps, but powder and ball, + and his longing was sensibly increased by Foxy generously allowing him to + try the pistol, first at a mark, which Hughie hit, and then at a red + squirrel, which he missed. By day Hughie yearned for this pistol, by night + he dreamed of it, but how he might secure it for his own he did not know. + </p> + <p> + Upon this point he felt he could not consult his mother, his usual + counselor, for he had an instinctive feeling that she would not approve of + his having a pistol in his possession; and as for his father, Hughie knew + he would soon make “short work of any such folly.” What would a child like + Hughie do with a pistol? He had never had a pistol in all his life. It was + difficult for the minister to realize that young Canada was a new type, + and he would have been more than surprised had any one told him that + already Hughie, although only twelve, was an expert with a gun, having for + many a Saturday during the long, sunny fall roamed the woods, at first in + company with Don, and afterwards with Don's gun alone, or followed by + Fusie or Davie Scotch. There was thus no help for Hughie at home. The + price of the pistol reduced to the lowest possible sum, was two dollars + and a half, which Foxy declared was only half what he would charge any one + else but his partner. + </p> + <p> + “How much have you got altogether?” he asked Hughie one day, when Hughie + was groaning over his poverty. + </p> + <p> + “Six pennies and two dimes,” was Hughie's disconsolate reply. He had often + counted them over. “Of course,” he went on, “there's my XL knife. That's + worth a lot, only the point of the big blade's broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted Foxy, “there's jist the stub left.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not!” said Hughie, indignantly. “It's more than half, then. And it's + bully good stuff, too. It'll nick any knife in the school”; and Hughie + dived into his pocket and pulled out his knife with a handful of boy's + treasures. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo!” said Foxy, snatching a half-dollar from Hughie's hand, “whose is + that?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, you, give me that! That's not mine,” cried Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Whose is it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I guess it's mother's. I found it on the kitchen floor, and + I know it's mother's.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I know well enough. She often puts money on the window, and it fell down. + Give me that, I tell you!” Hughie's eyes were blazing dangerously, and + Foxy handed back the half-dollar. + </p> + <p> + “O, all right. You're a pretty big fool,” he said, indifferently. “'Losers + seekers, finders keepers.' That's my rule.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie was silent, holding his precious half-dollar in his hand, deep in + his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” said Foxy, changing the subject, “I guess you had better pay up for + your powder and caps you've been firing.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't been firing much,” said Hughie, confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you've been firing pretty steady for three weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks! It isn't three weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “It is. There's this week, and last week when the ink-bottle bust too soon + and burnt Fusie's eyebrows, and the week before when you shot Aleck Dan, + and it was the week before that you began, and that'll make it four.” + </p> + <p> + “How much?” asked Hughie, desperately, resolved to know the worst. + </p> + <p> + Foxy had been preparing for this. He took down a slate-pencil box with a + sliding lid, and drew out a bundle of crumbled slips which Hughie, with + sinking heart, recognized as his own vouchers. + </p> + <p> + “Sixteen pennies.” Foxy had taken care of this part of the business. + </p> + <p> + “Sixteen!” exclaimed Hughie, snatching up the bunch. + </p> + <p> + “Count them yourself,” said Foxy, calmly, knowing well he could count on + Hughie's honesty. + </p> + <p> + “Seventeen,” said Hughie, hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + “But one of those I didn't count,” said Foxy, generously. “That's the one + I gave you to try at the first. Now, I tell you,” went on Foxy, + insinuatingly, “you have got how much at home?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Six pennies and two dimes.” Hughie's tone indicated despair. + </p> + <p> + “You've got six pennies and two dimes. Six pennies and two dimes. That's + twenty—that's thirty-two cents. Now if you paid me that thirty-two + cents, and if you could get a half-dollar anywhere, that would be + eighty-two. I tell you what I would do. I would let you have that pistol + for only one dollar more. That ain't much,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Only a dollar more,” said Hughie, calculating rapidly. “But where would I + get the fifty cents?” The dollar seemed at that moment to Hughie quite a + possible thing, if only the fifty cents could be got. The dollar was more + remote, and therefore less pressing. + </p> + <p> + Foxy had an inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what. You borrow that fifty cents you found, and then you can + pay me eighty-two cents, and—and—” he hesitated—“perhaps + you will find some more, or something.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie's eyes were blazing with great fierceness. + </p> + <p> + Foxy hastened to add, “And I'll let you have the pistol right off, and + you'll pay me again some time when you can, the other dollar.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie checked the indignant answer that was at his lips. To have the + pistol as his own, to take home with him at night, and to keep all + Saturday—the temptation was great, and coming suddenly upon Hughie, + was too much for him. He would surely, somehow, soon pay back the fifty + cents, he argued, and Foxy would wait for the dollar. And yet that + half-dollar was not his, but his mother's, and more than that, if he asked + her for it, he was pretty sure she would refuse. But then, he doubted his + mother's judgment as to his ability to use firearms, and besides, this + pistol at that price was a great bargain, and any of the boys might pick + it up. Poor Hughie! He did not know how ancient was that argument, nor how + frequently it had done duty in smoothing the descent to the lower regions. + The pistol was good to look at, the opportunity of securing it was such as + might not occur again, and as for the half-dollar, there could be no harm + in borrowing that for a little while. + </p> + <p> + That was Foxy's day of triumph, but to Hughie it was the beginning of many + woeful days and nights. And his misery came upon him swift and sure, in + the very moment that he turned in from the road at the manse gate, for he + knew that at the end of the lane would be his mother, and his winged feet, + upon which he usually flew from the gate home, dragged heavily. + </p> + <p> + He found his mother, not at the door, but in the large, pleasant + living-room, which did for all kinds of rooms in the manse. It was + dining-room and sewing-room, nursery and playroom, but it was always a + good room to enter, and in spite of playthings strewn about, or snippings + of cloth, or other stour, it was always a place of brightness and of + peace, for it was there the mother was most frequently to be found. This + evening she was at the sewing-machine busy with Hughie's Sunday clothes, + with the baby asleep in the cradle beside her in spite of the din of the + flying wheels, and little Robbie helping to pull through the long seam. + Hughie shrank from the warm, bright, loving atmosphere that seemed to fill + the room, hating to go in, but in a moment he realized that he must “make + believe” with his mother, and the pain of it and the shame of it startled + and amazed him. He was glad that his mother did not notice him enter, and + by the time he had put away his books he had braced himself to meet her + bright smile and her welcome kiss. + </p> + <p> + The mother did not apparently notice his hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy, home again?” she cried, holding out her hand to him with + the air of good comradeship she always wore with him. “Are you very + hungry?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” said Hughie, kissing her, and glad of the chance to get away. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will find something pretty nice in the pantry we saved for you. + Guess what.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” shouted Robbie. “Pie! It's muzzie's pie. Muzzie tept it for + 'oo.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Robbie, you were not to tell,” said his mother, shaking her finger + at him. + </p> + <p> + “O-o-o, I fordot,” said Robbie, horrified at his failure to keep his + promise. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. That's a lesson you will have to learn many times, how to + keep those little lips shut. And the pie will be just as good.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, mother,” said Hughie. “But I don't want your pie.” + </p> + <p> + “My pie!” said the mother. “Pie isn't good for old women.” + </p> + <p> + “Old women!” said Hughie, indignantly. “You're the youngest and prettiest + woman in the congregation,” he cried, and forgetting for the moment his + sense of meanness, he threw his arms round his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Hughie, shame on you! What a dreadful flatterer you are!” said his + mother. “Now, run away to your pie, and then to your evening work, my boy, + and we will have a good lesson together after supper.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie ran away, glad to get out of her presence, and seizing the pie, + carried it out to the barn and hurled it far into the snow. He felt sure + that a single bite of it would choke him. + </p> + <p> + If he could only have seen Foxy any time for the next hour, how gladly + would he have given him back his pistol, but by the time he had fed his + cow and the horses, split the wood and carried it in, and prepared + kindling for the morning's fires, he had become accustomed to his new + self, and had learned his first lesson in keeping his emotions out of his + face. But from that night, and through all the long weeks of the breaking + winter, when games in the woods were impossible by reason of the snow and + water, and when the roads were deep with mud, Hughie carried his burden + with him, till life was one long weariness and dread. + </p> + <p> + And through these days he was Foxy's slave. A pistol without ammunition + was quite useless. Foxy's stock was near at hand. It was easy to write a + voucher for a penny's worth of powder or caps, and consequently the pile + in Foxy's pencil-box steadily mounted till Hughie was afraid to look at + it. His chance of being free from his own conscience was still remote + enough. + </p> + <p> + During these days, too, Foxy reveled in his power over his rival, and + ground his slave in bitter bondage, subjecting him to such humiliation as + made the school wonder and Hughie writhe; and if ever Hughie showed any + sign of resentment or rebellion, Foxy could tame him to groveling + submission by a single word. “Well, I guess I'll go down to-night to see + your mother,” was all he needed to say to make Hughie grovel again. For + with Hughie it was not the fear of his father's wrath and heavy + punishment, though that was terrible enough, but the dread that his mother + should know, that made him grovel before his tyrant, and wake at night in + a cold sweat. His mother's tender anxiety for his pale face and gloomy + looks only added to the misery of his heart. + </p> + <p> + He had no one in whom he could confide. He could not tell any of the boys, + for he was unwilling to lose their esteem, besides, it was none of their + business; he was terrified of his father's wrath, and from his mother, his + usual and unfailing resort in every trouble of his whole life, he was now + separated by his terrible secret. + </p> + <p> + Then Foxy began to insist upon payment of his debts. Spring was at hand, + the store would soon be closed up, for business was slack in the summer, + and besides, Foxy had other use for his money. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you got any money at all in your house?” Foxy sneered one day, + when Hughie was declaring his inability to meet his debts. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we have,” cried Hughie, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't believe it,” said Foxy, contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Father's drawer is sometimes full of dimes and half-dimes. At least, + there's an awful lot on Mondays, from the collections, you know,” said + Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you had better get some for me, somehow,” said Foxy. “You + might borrow some from the drawer for a little while.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be stealing,” said Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't mean to keep it,” said Foxy. “You would only take it for a + while. It would just be borrowing.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't,” said Hughie, firmly. “It's taking out of his drawer. It's + stealing, and I won't steal.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! you're mighty good all at once. What about that half-dollar?” + </p> + <p> + “You said yourself that wasn't stealing,” said Hughie, passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's the difference? You said it was your mother's, and this is + your father's. It's all the same, except that you're afraid to take your + father's.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not afraid. At least it isn't that. But it's different to take money + out of a drawer, that isn't your own.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Mighty lot of difference! Money's money, wherever it is. Besides, if + you borrowed this from your father, you could pay back your mother and me. + You would pay the whole thing right off.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Hughie argued with himself. To be free from Foxy's hateful + tyranny, and to be clear again with his mother—for that he would be + willing to suffer almost anything. But to take money out of that drawer + was awfully like stealing. Of course he would pay it back, and after all + it would only be borrowing. Besides, it would enable him to repay what he + owed to his mother and to Foxy. Through all the mazes of specious argument + Hughie worked his way, arriving at no conclusion, except that he carried + with him a feeling that if he could by some means get that money out of + the drawer in a way that would not be stealing, it would be a vast relief, + greater than words could tell. + </p> + <p> + That night brought him the opportunity. His father and mother were away at + the prayer meeting. There was only Jessie left in the house, and she was + busy with the younger children. With the firm resolve that he would not + take a single half-dime from his father's drawer, he went into the study. + He would like to see if the drawer were open. Yes, it was open, and the + Sabbath's collection lay there with all its shining invitation. He tried + making up the dollar and a half out of the dimes and half-dimes. What a + lot of half-dimes it took! But when he used the quarters and dimes, how + much smaller the piles were. Only two quarters and five dimes made up the + dollar, and the pile in the drawer looked pretty much the same as before. + Another quarter-dollar withdrawn from the drawer made little difference. + He looked at the little heaps on the table. He believed he could make Foxy + take that for his whole debt, though he was sure he owed him more. Perhaps + he had better make certain. He transferred two more dimes and a half-dime + from the drawer to the table. It was an insignificant little heap. That + would certainly clear off his whole indebtedness and make him a free man. + </p> + <p> + He slipped the little heaps of money from the table into his pocket, and + then suddenly he realized that he had never decided to take the money. The + last resolve he could remember making was simply to see how the dollar and + a half looked. Without noticing, he had passed the point of final + decision. Alas! like many another, Hughie found the going easy and the + slipping smooth upon the down incline. Unconsciously he had slipped into + being a thief. + </p> + <p> + Now he could not go back. His absorbing purpose was concealment. Quietly + shutting the drawer, he was slipping hurriedly up to his own room, when on + the stairway he met Jessie. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, Jessie?” he asked, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Putting Robbie off to bed,” said Jessie, in surprise. “What's the matter + with you?” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” echoed Hughie, smitten with horrible fear that + perhaps she knew. “I just wanted to know,” he said, weakly. + </p> + <p> + He slipped past her, holding his pocket tight lest the coins should + rattle. When he reached his room he stood listening in the dark to Jessie + going down the stairs. He was sure she suspected something. He would go + back and put the money in the drawer again, whenever she reached the + kitchen. He stood there with his heart-beats filling his ears, waiting for + the kitchen door to slam. + </p> + <p> + Then he resolved he would wrap the money up in paper and put it safely + away, and go down and see if Jessie knew. He found one of his old + copybooks, and began tearing out a leaf. What a noise it made! Robbie + would surely wake up, and then Jessie would come back with the light. He + put the copy-book under the quilt, and holding it down firmly with one + hand, removed the leaf with the other. With great care he wrapped up the + dimes and half-dimes by themselves. They fitted better together. Then he + took up the quarters, and was proceeding to fold them in a similar parcel, + when he heard Jessie's voice from below. + </p> + <p> + “Hughie, what are you doing?” She was coming up the stair. + </p> + <p> + He jumped from the bed to go to meet her. A quarter fell on the floor and + rolled under the bed. It seemed to Hughie as if it would never stop + rolling, and as if Jessie must hear it. Wildly he scrambled on the floor + in the dark, seeking for the quarter, while Jessie came nearer and nearer. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to bed already, Hughie?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Quickly Hughie went out to the hall to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he yawned, gratefully seizing upon her suggestion. “I'm awfully + sleepy. Give me the candle, Jessie,” he said, snatching it from her hand. + “I want to go downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Hughie, you are very rude. What would your mother say? Let me have the + candle immediately, I want to get Robbie's stockings.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie's heart stood still. + </p> + <p> + “I'll throw them down, Jessie. I want the candle downstairs just a + minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave that candle with me,” insisted Jessie. “There's another on the + dining-room table you can get.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not be a minute,” said Hughie, hurrying downstairs. “You come down, + Jessie, I want to ask you something. I'll throw you Robbie's stockings.” + </p> + <p> + “Come back here, the rude boy that you are,” said Jessie, crossly, “and + bring me that candle.” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. Hughie was standing, pale and shaking, in the + dining-room, listening intently for Jessie's step. Would she go into his + room, or would she come down? Every moment increased the agony of his + fear. + </p> + <p> + At length, with a happy inspiration, he went to the cupboard, opened the + door noisily, and began rattling the dishes. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me!” he heard Jessie exclaim at the top of the stair. “That boy + will be my death. Hughie,” she called, “just shut that cupboard! You know + your mother doesn't like you to go in there.” + </p> + <p> + “I only want a little,” called out Hughie, still moving the dishes, and + hearing, to his great relief, Jessie's descending step. In desperation he + seized a dish of black currant preserves which he found on the cupboard + shelf, and spilled it over the dishes and upon the floor just as Jessie + entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes alive, boy! Will you never be done your mischief?” she cried, + rushing toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said, “I spilt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Spilt it!” echoed Jessie, indignantly, “you needn't be telling me that. + Bring me a cloth from the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know where it is, Jessie,” cried Hughie, slipping upstairs again + with his candle. + </p> + <p> + To his great relief he saw that Jessie's attention was so entirely taken + up with removing the stains of the preserves from the cupboard shelves and + dishes, that she for the moment forgot everything else, Robbie's stockings + included. + </p> + <p> + Hurrying to his room, and shading the candle with his hand lest the light + should waken his little brother, he hastily seized the money upon the bed + quilt, and after a few moments' searching under the bed, found the strayed + quarter. + </p> + <p> + With these in his hand he passed into his mother's room. Leaving the + candle there, he came back to the head of the stairs and listened for a + moment, with great satisfaction, to Jessie muttering to herself while she + cleaned up the mess he had made. Then he turned, and with trembling + fingers he swiftly made up the quarter-dollars into another parcel. With a + great sigh of relief he put the two parcels in his pocket, and seizing his + candle turned to leave the room. As he did so, he caught sight of himself + in the glass. With a great shock of surprise he stood gazing at the + terrified, white face, with the staring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What a fool I am!” he said, looking at himself in the glass. “Nobody will + know, and I'll pay this back soon.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes wandered to a picture which stood on a little shelf beside the + glass. It was a picture of his mother, the one he loved best of all he had + ever seen of her. + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden stab of pain at his heart, his breath came in a great + sob. For a moment he looked into the eyes that looked back at him so full + of love and reproach. + </p> + <p> + “I won't do it,” he said, grinding his teeth hard, and forthwith turned to + go to his father's study. + </p> + <p> + But as he left the room he saw Jessie half-way up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing now?” she cried, wrathfully. “Up to some mischief, I + doubt.” + </p> + <p> + With a sudden, inexplicable rage, Hughie turned toward her. + </p> + <p> + “It's none of your business! You mind your own business, will you, and + leave me alone.” The terrible emotions of the last few minutes were at the + back of his rage. + </p> + <p> + “Just wait, you,” said Jessie, “till your mother comes. Then you'll hear + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You shut your mouth!” cried Hughie, his passion sweeping his whole being + like a tempest. “You shut your mouth, you old cat, or I'll throw this + candle at you.” He raised the candle high in his hand as he spoke, and + altogether looked so desperate that Jessie stood in terror lest he should + make good his threat. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, now, Hughie,” she entreated. “You will be setting the house on + fire.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie hesitated a moment, and then turned from her, and going into his + room, banged the door in her face, and Jessie, not knowing what to make of + it all, went slowly downstairs again, forgetting once more Robbie's + stockings. + </p> + <p> + “The old cat!” said Hughie to himself. “She just stopped me. I was going + to put it back.” + </p> + <p> + The memory that he had resolved to undo his wrong brought him a curious + sense of relief. + </p> + <p> + “I was just going to put it back,” he said, “when she had to interfere.” + </p> + <p> + He was conscious of a sense of injury against Jessie. It was not his fault + that that money was not now in the drawer. + </p> + <p> + “I'll put it back in the morning, anyhow,” he said, firmly. But even as he + spoke he was conscious of an infinality in his determination, while he + refused to acknowledge to himself a secret purpose to leave the question + open till the morning. But this determination, inconclusive though it was, + brought him a certain calm of mind, so that when his mother came into his + room she found him sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + She stood beside his bed looking down upon him for a few moments, with + face full of anxious sadness. + </p> + <p> + “There's something wrong with the boy,” she said to herself, stooping to + kiss him. “There's something wrong with him,” she repeated, as she left + the room. “He's not the same.” + </p> + <p> + During these weeks she had been conscious that Hughie had changed in some + way to her. The old, full, frank confidence was gone. There was a + constraint in his manner she could not explain. “He is no longer a child,” + she would say to herself, seeking to allay the pain in her heart. “A boy + must have his secrets. It is foolish in me to think anything else. + Besides, he is not well. He is growing too fast.” And indeed, Hughie's + pale, miserable face gave ground enough for this opinion. + </p> + <p> + “That boy is not well,” she said to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Which boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Hughie,” she replied. “He is looking miserable, and somehow he is + different.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense! He eats well enough, and sleeps well enough,” said her + husband, making light of her fears. + </p> + <p> + “There's something wrong,” repeated his wife. “And he hates his school.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't wonder at that,” said her husband, sharply. “I don't see + how any boy of spirit could take much pleasure in that kind of a school. + The boys are just wasting their time, and worse than that, they have lost + all the old spirit. I must see to it that the policy of those close-fisted + trustees is changed. I am not going to put up with those chits of girls + teaching any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “There may be something in what you say,” said his wife, sadly, “but + certainly Hughie is always begging to stay at home from school.” + </p> + <p> + “And indeed, he might as well stay home,” answered her husband, “for all + the good he gets.” + </p> + <p> + “I do wish we had a good man in charge,” replied his wife, with a great + sigh. “It is very important that these boys should have a good, strong man + over them. How much it means to a boy at Hughie's time of life! But so few + are willing to come away into the backwoods here for so small a salary.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly her husband laid down his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” he exclaimed. “The very thing! Wouldn't this be the very + thing for young Craven. You remember, the young man that Professor + MacLauchlan was writing about.” + </p> + <p> + His wife shook her head very decidedly. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” she said. “Didn't Professor MacLauchlan say he was + dissipated?” + </p> + <p> + “O, just a little wild. Got going with some loose companions. Out here + there would be no temptation.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all sure of that,” said his wife, “and I would not like + Hughie to be under his influence.” + </p> + <p> + “MacLauchlan says he is a young man of fine disposition and of fine + parts,” argued her husband, “and if temptation were removed from him he + believes he would turn out a good man.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murray shook her head doubtfully. “He is not the man to put Hughie + under just now.” + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do with Hughie?” replied her husband. “He is getting no + good in the school as it is, and we cannot send him away yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Send him away!” exclaimed his wife. “No, no, not a child like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Craven might be a very good man,” continued her husband. “He might + perhaps live with us. I know you have more than enough to do now,” he + added, answering her look of dismay, “but he would be a great help to + Hughie with his lessons, and might start him in his classics. And then, + who knows what you might make of the young man.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murray did not respond to her husband's smile, but only replied, “I + am sure I wish I knew what is the matter with the boy, and I wish he could + leave school for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “O, the boy is all right,” said her husband, impatiently. “Only a little + less noisy, as far as I can see.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he is not the same,” replied his wife. “He is different to me.” There + was almost a cry of pain in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Now, now, don't imagine things. Boys are full of notions at Hughie's age. + He may need a change, but that is all.” + </p> + <p> + With this the mother tried to quiet the tumult of anxious fear and pain + she found rising in her heart, but long after the house was still, and + while both her boy and his father lay asleep, she kept pouring forth that + ancient sacrifice of self-effacing love before the feet of God. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + HUGHIE'S EMANCIPATION + </h3> + <p> + Hughie rose late next morning, and the hurry and rush of getting off to + school in time left him no opportunity to get rid of the little packages + in his pocket, that seemed to burn and sting him through his clothes. He + determined to keep them safe in his pocket all day and put them back in + the drawer at night. His mother's face, white with her long watching, and + sad and anxious in spite of its brave smile, filled him with such an agony + of remorse that, hurrying through his breakfast, he snatched a farewell + kiss, and then tore away down the lane lest he should be forced to confess + all his terrible secret. + </p> + <p> + The first person who met him in the school-yard was Foxy. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got that?” was his salutation. + </p> + <p> + A sudden fury possessed Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you red-headed, sneaking fox,” he answered, “and I hope it will + bring you the curse of luck, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Foxy hurried him cautiously behind the school, with difficulty concealing + his delight while Hughie unrolled his little bundles and counted out the + quarters and dimes and half dimes into his hand. + </p> + <p> + “There's a dollar, and there's a quarter, and—and—there's + another,” he added, desperately, “and God may kill me on the spot if I + give you any more!” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Hughie,” said Foxy, soothingly, putting the money into his + pocket. “You needn't be so mad about it. You bought the pistol and the + rest right enough, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I know I did, but—but you made me, you big, sneaking thief—and + then you—” Hughie's voice broke in his rage. His face was pale, and + his black eyes were glittering with fierce fury, and in his heart he was + conscious of a wild longing to fall upon Foxy and tear him to pieces. And + Foxy, big and tall as he was, glanced at Hughie's face, and saying not a + word, turned and fled to the front of the school where the other boys + were. + </p> + <p> + Hughie followed slowly, his heart still swelling with furious rage, and + full of an eager desire to be at Foxy's smiling, fat face. + </p> + <p> + At the school door stood Miss Morrison, the teacher, smiling down upon + Foxy, who was looking up at her with an expression of such sweet innocence + that Hughie groaned out between his clenched teeth, “Oh, you red-headed + devil, you! Some day I'll make you smile out of the other side of your + big, fat mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you swearing at?” It was Fusie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Fusie,” cried Hughie, “let's get Davie and get into the woods. I'm + not going in to-day. I hate the beastly place, and the whole gang of + them.” + </p> + <p> + Fusie, the little, harum-scarum French waif was ready for anything in the + way of adventure. To him anything was better than the even monotony of the + school routine. True, it might mean a whipping both from the teacher and + from Mrs. McLeod; but as to the teacher's whipping, Fusie was prepared to + stand that for a free day in the woods, and as to the other, Fusie + declared that Mrs. McLeod's whipping “wouldn't hurt a skeeter.” + </p> + <p> + To Davie Scotch, however, playing truant was a serious matter. He had been + reared in an atmosphere of reverence for established law and order, but + when Hughie gave command, to Davie there seemed nothing for it but to + obey. + </p> + <p> + The three boys watched till the school was called, and then crawling along + on their stomachs behind the heavy cedar-log fence, they slipped into the + balsam thicket at the edge of the woods and were safe. Here they flung + down their schoolbags, and lying prone upon the fragrant bed of + pine-needles strewn thickly upon the moss, they peered out through the + balsam boughs at the house of their bondage with an exultant sense of + freedom and a feeling of pity, if not of contempt, for the unhappy and + spiritless creatures who were content to be penned inside any house on + such a day as this, and with such a world outside. + </p> + <p> + For some minutes they rolled about upon the soft moss and balsam-needles + and the brown leaves of last year, till their hearts were running over + with a deep and satisfying delight. It is hard to resist the ministry of + the woods. The sympathetic silence of the trees, the aromatic airs that + breathe through the shady spaces, the soft mingling of broken lights—these + all combine to lay upon the spirit a soothing balm, and bring to the heart + peace. And Hughie, sensitive at every pore to that soothing ministry, + before long forgot for a time even Foxy, with his fat, white face and + smiling mouth, and lying on the broad of his back, and looking up at the + far-away blue sky through the interlacing branches and leaves, he began to + feel again that it was good to be alive, and that with all his misery + there were compensations. + </p> + <p> + But any lengthened period of peaceful calm is not for boys of the age and + spirit of Hughie and his companions. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” asked Fusie, the man of adventure. + </p> + <p> + “Do nothing,” said Hughie from his supine position. “This is good enough + for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” said Fusie, starting to climb a tall, lithe birch, while Hughie + lazily watched him. Soon Fusie was at the top of the birch, which began to + sway dangerously. + </p> + <p> + “Try to fly into that balsam,” cried Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw! you can.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor you either. That's a mighty big jump.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on down, then, and let me try,” said Hughie, in scorn. His laziness + was gone in the presence of a possible achievement. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he had taken Fusie's place a the top of the swaying + birch. It did not look so easy from the top of the birch as from the + ground to swing into the balsam-tree. However, he could not go back now. + </p> + <p> + “Dinna try it, Hughie!” cried Davie to him. “Ye'll no mak it, and ye'll + come an awfu' cropper, as sure as deith.” But Hughie, swaying gently back + and forth, was measuring the distance of his drop. It was not a feat so + very difficult, but it called for good judgment and steady nerve. A moment + too soon or a moment too late in letting go, would mean a nasty fall of + twenty feet or more upon the solid ground, and one never knew just how one + would light. + </p> + <p> + “I wudna dae it, Hughie,” urged Davie, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + But Hughie, swaying high in the birch, heeded not the warning, and + suddenly swinging out from the slender trunk and holding by his hands, he + described a parabola, and releasing the birch dropped on to the balsam + top. But balsam-trees are of uncertain fiber, and not to be relied upon, + and this particular balsam, breaking off short in Hughie's hands, allowed + him to go crashing through the branches to the earth. + </p> + <p> + “Man! man!” cried Davie Scotch, bending over Hughie as he lay white and + still upon the ground. “Are ye deid? Maircy me! he's deid,” sobbed Davie, + wringing his hands. “Fusie, Fusie, ye gowk! where are ye gone?” + </p> + <p> + In a moment or two Fusie reappeared through the branches with a capful of + water, and dashed it into Hughie's face, with the result that the lad + opened his eyes, and after a gasp or two, sat up and looked about him. + </p> + <p> + “Och, laddie, laddie, are ye no deid?” said Davie Scotch. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you, Scottie?” asked Hughie, with a bewildered + look about him. “And who's been throwing water all over me?” he added, + wrathfully, as full consciousness returned. + </p> + <p> + “Man! I'm glad to see ye mad. Gang on wi' ye,” shouted Davie, joyously. + “Ye were deid the noo. Ay, clean deid. Was he no, Fusie?” Fusie nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I guess not,” said Hughie. “It was that rotten balsam top,” looking + vengefully at the broken tree. + </p> + <p> + “Lie doon, man,” said Davie, still anxiously hovering about him. “Dinna + rise yet awhile.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Hughie, and he struggled to his feet; “I'm all right.” + But as he spoke he sank down upon the moss, saying, “I feel kind of queer, + though.” + </p> + <p> + “Lie still, then, will ye,” said Davie, angrily. “Ye're fair obstinate.” + </p> + <p> + “Get me some water, Fusie,” said Hughie, rather weakly. + </p> + <p> + “Run, Fusie, ye gomeril, ye!” + </p> + <p> + In a minute Fusie was back with a capful of water. + </p> + <p> + “That's better. I'm all right now,” said Hughie, sitting up. + </p> + <p> + “Hear him!” said Davie. “Lie ye doon there, or I'll gie ye a crack that'll + mak ye glad tae keep still.” + </p> + <p> + For half an hour the boys lay on the moss discussing the accident fully in + all its varying aspects and possibilities, till the sound of wheels came + up the road. + </p> + <p> + “Who's that, Fusie?” asked Hughie, lazily. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno me,” said Fusie, peering through the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Scotty?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not I.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie crawled over to the edge of the brush. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you idiots! it's Thomas Finch. Thomas!” he called, but Thomas drove + straight on. In a moment Hughie sprang up, forgetting all about his + weakness, and ran out to the roadside. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Thomas!” he cried, waving his hand. Thomas saw him, stopped, and + looked at him, doubtfully. He, with all the Section, knew how the school + was going, and he easily guessed what took Hughie there. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to school to-day,” said Hughie, answering Thomas's look. + </p> + <p> + Thomas nodded, and sat silent, waiting. He was not a man to waste his + words. + </p> + <p> + “I hate the whole thing!” exclaimed Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Foxy, eh?” said Thomas, to whom on other occasions Hughie had confided + his grievances, and especially those he suffered at the hands of Foxy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Foxy,” cried Hughie, in a sudden rage. “He's a fat-faced sneak! And + the teacher just makes me sick!” + </p> + <p> + Thomas still waited. + </p> + <p> + “She just smiles and smiles at him, and he smiles at her. Ugh! I can't + stand him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much harm in smiling,” said Thomas, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Thomas, I hate the school. I'm not going to go any more.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas looked gravely down upon Hughie's passionate face for a few + moments, and then said, “You will do what your mother wants you, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie said nothing in reply, while Thomas sat pondering. + </p> + <p> + Finally he said, with a sudden inspiration, “Hughie, come along with me, + and help me with the potatoes.” + </p> + <p> + “They won't let me,” grumbled Hughie. “At least father won't. I don't like + to ask mother.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas's eyes opened in surprise. This was a new thing in Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “I'll ask your mother,” he said, at length. “Get in with me here.” + </p> + <p> + Still Hughie hesitated. To get away from school was joy enough, to go with + Thomas to the potato planting was more than could be hoped for. But still + he stood making pictures in the dust with his bare toes. + </p> + <p> + “There's Fusie,” he said, “and Davie Scotch.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Thomas, catching sight of those worthies through the trees, + “let them come, too.” + </p> + <p> + Fusie was promptly willing, but Davie was doubtful. He certainly would not + go to the manse, where he might meet the minister, and meeting the + minister's wife under the present circumstances was a little worse. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can wait at the gate with Fusie,” suggested Hughie, and so the + matter was settled. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately for Hughie, his father was not at home. But not Thomas's + earnest entreaties nor Hughie's eager pleading would have availed with the + mother, for attendance at school was a sacred duty in her eyes, had it not + been that her boy's face, paler than usual, and with the dawning of a new + defiance in it, startled her, and confirmed in her the fear that all was + not well with him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Thomas, he may go with you to the Cameron's for the potatoes, but + as to going with you to the planting, that is another thing. Your mother + is not fit to be troubled with another boy, and especially a boy like + Hughie. And how is she to-day, Thomas?” continued Mrs. Murray, as Thomas + stood in dull silence before her. + </p> + <p> + “She's better,” said Thomas, answering more quickly than usual, and with a + certain eagerness in his voice. “She's a great deal better, and Hughie + will do her no harm, but good.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murray looked at Thomas as he spoke, wondering at the change in his + voice and manner. The heavy, stolid face had changed since she had last + seen it. It was finer, keener, than before. The eyes, so often dull, were + lighted up with a new, strange fire. + </p> + <p> + “She's much better,” said Thomas again, as if insisting against Mrs. + Murray's unbelief. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it, Thomas,” she said, gently. “She will soon be quite + well again, I hope, for she has had a long, long time of suffering.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a long, long time,” replied Thomas. His face was pale, and in his + eyes was a look of pain, almost of fear. + </p> + <p> + “And you will come to see her soon?” he added. There was almost a piteous + entreaty in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Thomas, surely next week. And meantime, I shall let Hughie go with + you.” + </p> + <p> + A look of such utter devotion poured itself into Thomas's eyes that Mrs. + Murray was greatly moved, and putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, + gently, “'He will give His angels charge.' Don't be afraid, Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid!” said Thomas, with a kind of gasp, his face going white. “Afraid! + No. Why?” But Mrs. Murray turned from him to hide the tears that she could + not keep out of her eyes, for she knew what was before Thomas and them + all. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Hughie was busy putting into his little carpet-bag what he + considered the necessary equipment for his visit. + </p> + <p> + “You must wear your shoes, Hughie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, shoes are such an awful bother planting potatoes. They get + full of ground and everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, put them in your bag, at any rate, and your stockings, too. You may + need them.” + </p> + <p> + By degrees Hughie's very moderate necessities were satisfied, and with a + hurried farewell to his mother he went off with Thomas. At the gate they + picked up Fusie and Davie Scotch, and went off to the Cameron's for the + seed potatoes, Hughie's heart lighter than it had been for many a day. And + all through the afternoon, and as he drove home with Thomas on the loaded + bags, his heart kept singing back to the birds in the trees overhead. + </p> + <p> + It was late in the afternoon when they drove into the yard, for the roads + were still bad in the swamp, where the corduroy had been broken up by the + spring floods. + </p> + <p> + Thomas hurried through unhitching, and without waiting to unharness he + stood the horses in their stalls, saying, “We may need them this afternoon + again,” and took Hughie off to the house straight-way. + </p> + <p> + The usual beautiful order pervaded the house and its surroundings. The + back yard, through which the boys came from the barn, was free of litter; + the chips were raked into neat little piles close to the wood-pile, for + summer use. On a bench beside the “stoop” door was a row of milk-pans, + lapping each other like scales on a fish, glittering in the sun. The large + summer kitchen, with its spotless floor and white-washed walls, stood with + both its doors open to the sweet air that came in from the fields above, + and was as pleasant a room to look in upon as one could desire. On the + sill of the open window stood a sweet-scented geranium and a tall fuschia + with white and crimson blossoms hanging in clusters. Bunches of wild + flowers stood on the table, on the dresser, and up beside the clock, and + the whole room breathed of sweet scents of fields and flowers, and “the + name of the chamber was peace.” + </p> + <p> + Beside the open window sat the little mother in an arm-chair, the + embodiment of all the peaceful beauty and sweet fragrance of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Well, mother,” said Thomas, crossing the floor to her and laying his hand + upon her shoulder, “have I been long away? I have brought Hughie back with + me, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so very long, Thomas,” said the mother, her dark face lighting with a + look of love as she glanced up at her big son. “And I am glad to see + Hughie. He will excuse me from rising,” she added, with fine courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Hughie hurried toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, Mrs. Finch. Don't think of rising.” But he could get no + further. Boy as he was, and at the age when boys are most heartless and + regardless, he found it hard to keep his lip and his voice steady and to + swallow the lump in his throat, and in spite of all he could do his eyes + were filling up with tears as he looked into the little woman's face, so + worn and weary, so pathetically bright. + </p> + <p> + It was months since he had seen her, and during these months a great + change had come to her and to the Finch household. After suffering long in + secret, the mother had been forced to confess to a severe pain in her + breast and under her arm. Upon examination the doctor pronounced the case + to be malignant cancer, and there was nothing for it but removal. It was + what Dr. Grant called “a very beautiful operation, indeed,” and now she + was recovering her strength, but only slowly, so slowly that Thomas at + times found his heart sink with a vague fear. But it was not the pain of + the wound that had wrought that sweet, pathetic look into the little + woman's face, but the deeper pain she carried in her heart for those she + loved better than herself. + </p> + <p> + The mother's sickness brought many changes into the household, but the + most striking of all the changes was that wrought in the slow and stolid + Thomas. The father and Billy Jack were busy with the farm matters outside, + upon little Jessac, now a girl of twelve years, fell the care of the + house, but it was Thomas that, with the assistance of a neighbor at first, + but afterwards alone, waited on his mother, dressing the wound and nursing + her. These weeks of watching and nursing had wrought in him the subtle + change that stirred Mrs. Murray's heart as she looked at him that day, and + that made even Hughie wonder. For one thing his tongue was loosed, and + Thomas talked to his mother of all that he had seen and heard on the way + to the Cameron's and back, making much of his little visit to the manse, + and of Mrs. Murray's kindness, and enlarging upon her promised visit, and + all with such brightness and picturesqueness of speech that Hughie + listened amazed. For all the years he had known Thomas he had never heard + from his lips so many words as in the last few minutes of talk with his + mother. Then, too, Thomas seemed to have found his fingers, for no woman + could have arranged more deftly and with gentler touch the cushions at his + mother's back, and no nurse could have measured out the medicine and + prepared her egg-nog with greater skill. Hughie could hardly believe his + eyes and ears. Was this Thomas the stolid, the clumsy, the heavy-handed, + this big fellow with the quick tongue and the clever, gentle hand? + </p> + <p> + Meantime Jessac had set upon the table a large pitcher of rich milk, with + oat cakes and butter, and honey in the comb. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Hughie, lad, draw in and help yourself. You and Thomas will be too + hungry to wait for supper,” said the mother. And Hughie, protesting + politely that he was not very hungry, proceeded to establish the contrary, + to the great satisfaction of himself and the others. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Thomas,” said the mother, “we had better cut the seed.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, and not a seed will you cut, mother,” said Thomas, emphatically. + “You may boss the job, though. I'll bring the potatoes to the back door.” + And this he did, thinking it no trouble to hitch up the team to draw the + wagon into the back yard so that his mother might have a part in the + cutting of the seed potatoes, as she had had every year of her life on the + farm. + </p> + <p> + Very carefully, and in spite of her protests that she could walk quite + well, Thomas carried his mother out to her chair in the shade of the + house, arranging with tender solicitude the pillows at her back and the + rug at her feet. Then they set to work at the potatoes. + </p> + <p> + “Mind you have two eyes in every seed, Hughie,” said Jessac, severely. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! I know. I've cut them often enough,” replied Hughie, scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well, look at that one, now,” said Jessac, picking up a seed that Hughie + had let fall; “that's only got one eye.” + </p> + <p> + “There's two,” said Hughie, triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “That's not an eye,” said Jessac, pointing to a mark on the potato; + “that's where the top grew out of, isn't it, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “It is, isn't it?” appealed Hughie. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Finch took the seed and looked at it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's one very good eye, and that will do.” + </p> + <p> + “But isn't that the mark of the top, mother?” insisted Jessac. But the + mother only shook her head at her. + </p> + <p> + “That's right, Jessac,” said Thomas, driving off with his team; “you look + after Hughie, and mother will look after you both till I get back, and + there'll be a grand crop this year.” + </p> + <p> + It was a happy hour for them all. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun + filled the air with a genial warmth. A little breeze bore from the orchard + near by a fragrance of apple-blossoms. A matronly hen, tethered by the leg + to her coop, raised indignant protest against the outrage on her personal + liberty, or clucked and crooned her invitations, counsels, warnings, and + encouragements, in as many different tones, to her independent, fluffy + brood of chicks, while a huge gobbler strutted up and down, thrilling with + pride in the glossy magnificence of his outspread tail and pompous, mighty + chest. + </p> + <p> + Hughie was conscious of a deep and grateful content, but across his + content lay a shadow. If only that would lift! As he watched Thomas with + his mother, he realized how far he had drifted from his own mother, and he + thought with regret of the happy days, which now seemed so far in the + past, when his mother had shared his every secret. But for him those days + could never come again. + </p> + <p> + At supper, Hughie was aware of some subtle difference in the spirit of the + home. As to Thomas so to his father a change had come. The old man was as + silent as ever, indeed more so, but there was no asperity in his silence. + His critical, captious manner was gone. His silence was that of a great + sorrow, and of a great fear. While there was more cheerful conversation + than ever at the table, there was through all a new respect and a certain + tender consideration shown toward the silent old man at the head, and all + joined in an effort to draw him from his gloom. The past months of his + wife's suffering had bowed him as with the weight of years. Even Hughie + could note this. + </p> + <p> + After supper the old man “took the Books” as usual, but when, as High + Priest, he “ascended the Mount of Ordinances to offer the evening + sacrifice,” he was as a man walking in thick darkness bewildered and + afraid. The prayer was largely a meditation on the heinousness of sin and + the righteous judgments of God, and closed with an exaltation of the + Cross, with an appeal that the innocent might be spared the punishment of + the guilty. The conviction had settled in the old man's mind that “the + Lord was visiting upon him and his family his sins, his pride, his + censoriousness, his hardness of heart.” The words of his prayer fell + meaningless upon Hughie's English ears, but the boy's heart quivered in + response to the agony of entreaty in the pleading tones, and he rose from + his knees awed and subdued. + </p> + <p> + There was no word spoken for some moments after the prayer. With people + like the Finches it was considered to be an insult to the Almighty to + depart from “the Presence” with any unseemly haste. Then Thomas came to + help his mother to her room, but she, with her eyes upon her husband, + quietly put Thomas aside and said, “Donald, will you tak me ben?” + </p> + <p> + Rarely had she called him by his name before the family, and all felt that + this was a most unusual demonstration of tenderness on her part. + </p> + <p> + The old man glanced quickly at her from under his overhanging eyebrows, + and met her bright upward look with an involuntary shake of the head and a + slight sigh. Comfort was not for him, and he must not delude himself. But + with a little laugh she put her hand on his arm, and as if administering + reproof to a little child, she said some words in Gaelic. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, woman, woman!” said Donald in reply, “if it was yourself we had to + deal with—” + </p> + <p> + “Whisht, man! Will you be putting me before your Father in heaven?” she + said, as they disappeared into the other room. + </p> + <p> + There was no fiddle that evening. There was no heart for it with Thomas, + neither was there time, for there was the milking to do, and the “sorting” + of the pails and pans, and the preparing for churning in the morning, so + that when all was done, the long evening had faded into the twilight and + it was time for bed. + </p> + <p> + Before going upstairs, Thomas took Hughie into “the room” where his + mother's bed had been placed. Thomas gave her her medicine and made her + comfortable for the night. + </p> + <p> + “Is there nothing else now, mother?” he said, still lingering about her. + </p> + <p> + “No, Thomas, my man. How are the cows doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Grand; Blossom filled a pail to-night, and Spotty almost twice. She's a + great milker, yon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and so was her mother. I remember she used to fill two pails when + the grass was good.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember her, too. Her horns curled right back, didn't they? And she + always looked so fierce.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but she was a kindly cow. And will the churn be ready for the + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mother, we'll have buttermilk for our porridge, sure enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you'll need to be up early for that, too early, Thomas, lad, for a + boy like you.” + </p> + <p> + “A boy like me!” said Thomas, feigning indignation, and stretching himself + to his full height. “Where would you be getting your men, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “You are man enough, laddie,” said his mother, “and a good one you will + come to be, I doubt. And you, too, Hughie, lad,” she added, turning to + him. “You will be like your father.” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno,” said Hughie, his face flushing scarlet. He was weary and sick + of his secret, and the sight of the loving comradeship between Thomas and + his mother made his burden all the heavier. + </p> + <p> + “What's wrong with yon laddie?” asked Mrs. Finch, when Hughie had gone + away to bed. + </p> + <p> + “Now, mother, you're too sharp altogether. And how do you know anything is + wrong with him?” + </p> + <p> + “I warrant you his mother sees it. Something is on his mind. Hughie is not + the lad he used to be. He will not look at you straight, and that is not + like Hughie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, you're a sharp one,” said Thomas. “I thought no one had seen + that but myself. Yes, there is something wrong with him. It's something in + the school. It's a poor place nowadays, anyway, and I wish Hughie were + done with it.” + </p> + <p> + “He must keep at the school, Thomas, and I only wish you could do the + same.” His mother sighed. She had her own secret ambition for Thomas, and + though she never opened her heart to her son, or indeed to any one, Thomas + somehow knew that it was her heart's desire to see him “in the pulpit.” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind, mother,” he said, brightly. “It'll all come right. Aren't + you always the one preaching faith to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, laddie, and it is needed, and sorely at times.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, mither,” said Thomas, dropping into her native speech, “ye mauna be + fashin' yersel. Ye'll jist say 'Now I lay me,' and gang to sleep like a + bairnie.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that's a guid word, laddie, an' a'll tak it. Ye may kiss me guid + nicht. A'll tak it.” + </p> + <p> + Thomas bent over her and whispered in her ear, “Ay, mither, mither, ye're + an angel, and that ye are.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoots, laddie, gang awa wi' ye,” said his mother, but she held her arms + about his neck and kissed him once and again. There was no one to see, and + why should they not give and take their heart's fill of love. + </p> + <p> + But when Thomas stood outside the room door, he folded his arms tight + across his breast and whispered with lips that quivered, “Ay, mither, + mither, mither, there's nane like ye. There's nane like ye.” And he was + glad that when he went upstairs, he found Hughie unwilling to talk. + </p> + <p> + The next three days they were all busy with the planting of the potatoes, + and nothing could have been better for Hughie. The sweet, sunny air, and + the kindly, wholesome earth and honest hard work were life and health to + mind and heart and body. It is wonderful how the touch of the kindly + mother earth cleanses the soul from its unwholesome humors. The hours that + Hughie spent in working with the clean, red earth seemed somehow to + breathe virtue into him. He remembered the past months like a bad dream. + They seemed to him a hideous unreality, and he could not think of Foxy and + his schemes, nor of his own weakness in yielding to temptation, without a + horrible self-loathing. He became aware of a strange feeling of sympathy + and kinship with old Donald Finch. He seemed to understand his gloom. + During those days their work brought those two together, for Billy Jack + had the running of the drills, and to Thomas was intrusted the + responsibility of “dropping” the potatoes, so Hughie and the old man + undertook to “cover” after Thomas. + </p> + <p> + Side by side they hoed together, speaking not a word for an hour at a + time, but before long the old man appeared to feel the lad's sympathy. + Hughie was quick to save him steps, and eager in many ways to anticipate + his wishes. He was quick, too, with the hoe, and ambitious to do his full + share of the work, and this won the old man's respect, so that by the end + of the first day there was established between them a solid basis of + friendship. + </p> + <p> + Old Donald Finch was no cheerful companion for Hughie, but it was to + Hughie a relief, more than anything else, that he was not much with either + Thomas or Billy Jack. + </p> + <p> + “You're tired,” he ventured, in answer to a deep sigh from the old man, + toward the close of the day. + </p> + <p> + “No, laddie,” replied the old man, “I know not that I am working. The + burden of toil is the least of all our burdens.” And then, after a pause, + he added, “It is a terrible thing, is sin.” + </p> + <p> + To an equal in age the old man would never have ventured this confidence, + but to Hughie, to his own surprise, he found it easy to talk. + </p> + <p> + “A terrible thing,” he repeated, “and it will always be finding you out.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie listened to him with a fearful sinking of heart, thinking of + himself and his sin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” repeated the old man, with awful solemnity, “it will come up with + you at last.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” ventured Hughie, timidly, “won't God forgive? Won't he ever + forget?” + </p> + <p> + The old man looked at him, leaning upon his hoe. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he will forgive. But for those who have had great privileges, and + who have sinned against light—I will not say.” + </p> + <p> + The fear deepened in Hughie's heart. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that God will not forgive a man who has had a good chance, an + elder, or a minister, or—or—a minister's son, say, like me?” + </p> + <p> + There was something in Hughie's tone that startled the old man. He glanced + at Hughie's face. + </p> + <p> + “What am I saying?” he cried. “It is of myself I am thinking, boy, and of + no minister or minister's son.” + </p> + <p> + But Hughie stood looking at him, his face showing his terrible anxiety. + God and sin were vivid realities to him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said the old man to himself, “it is a great gospel. 'As far as + the east is distant from the west.' 'And plenteous redemption is ever + found with him.'” + </p> + <p> + “But, do you think,” said Hughie, in a low voice, “God will tell all our + sins? Will he make them known?” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” cried the old man. “'And their sins and their iniquities + will I remember no more.' 'The depths of the sea.' No, no, boy, he will + surely forget, and he will not be proclaiming them.” + </p> + <p> + It was a strange picture. The old man leaning upon the top of his hoe + looking over at the lad, the gloom of his face irradiated with a momentary + gleam of hope, and the boy looking back at him with almost breathless + eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “It would be great,” said Hughie, at last, “if he would forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the old man, the gleam in his face growing brighter, “'If we + confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us,' and forgiving + with him is forgetting. Ah, yes, it is a great gospel,” he continued, and + standing there he lifted up his hand and broke into a kind of chant in + Gaelic, of which Hughie could catch no meaning, but the exalted look on + the old man's face was translation enough. + </p> + <p> + “Must we always tell?” said Hughie, after the old man had ceased. + </p> + <p> + “What are you saying, laddie?” + </p> + <p> + “I say must we always tell our sins—I mean to people?” + </p> + <p> + The old man thought a moment. “It is not always good to be talking about + our sins to people. That is for God to hear. But we must be ready to make + right what is wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Hughie, eagerly, “of course one would be glad to do + that.” + </p> + <p> + The old man gave him one keen glance, and began hoeing again. + </p> + <p> + “Ye'd better be asking ye're mother about that. She will know.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Hughie, “I can't.” + </p> + <p> + The old man paused in his work, looked at the boy for a moment or two, and + then went on working again. + </p> + <p> + “Speak to my woman,” he said, after a few strokes of his hoe. “She's a + wonderful wise woman.” And Hughie wished that he dared. + </p> + <p> + During the days of the planting they became great friends, and to their + mutual good. The mother's keen eyes noted the change both in Hughie and in + her husband, and was glad for it. It was she that suggested to Billy Jack + that he needed help in the back pasture with the stones. Billy Jack, quick + to take her meaning, eagerly insisted that help he must have, indeed he + could not get on with the plowing unless the stones were taken off. And so + it came that Hughie and the old man, with old Fly hitched up in the + stone-boat, spent two happy and not unprofitable days in the back pasture. + Gravely they discussed the high themes of God's sovereignty and man's + freedom, with all their practical issues upon conduct and destiny. Only + once, and that very shyly, did the old man bring round the talk to the + subject of their first conversation that meant so much to them both. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord will not be wanting to shame us beyond what is necessary,” he + said. “There are certain sins which he will bring to light, but there are + those that, in his mercy, he permits us to hide; provided always,” he + added, with emphasis, “we are done with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” assented Hughie, eagerly, “and who wouldn't be done with + them?” + </p> + <p> + But the old man shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “If that were always true a man would soon be rid of his evil heart. But,” + he continued, as if eager to turn the conversation, “you will be talking + with my woman about it. She's a wonderful wise woman, yon.” + </p> + <p> + Somehow the opportunity came to Hughie to take the old man's advice. On + Saturday evening, just before leaving for home, he found himself alone + with Mrs. Finch sitting beside the open window, watching the sun go down + behind the trees. + </p> + <p> + “What a splendid sunset!” he cried. He was ever sensitive to the majestic + drama of nature. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Mrs. Finch, “the clouds and the sun make wonderful beauty + together, but without the sun the clouds are ugly things.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie quickly took her meaning. + </p> + <p> + “They are not pleasant,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No, not pleasant,” she replied, “but with the sunlight upon them they are + wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie was silent for some moments, and then suddenly burst out, “Mrs. + Finch, does God forget sins, and will he keep them hid, from people, I + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” she said, with quiet conviction, “he will forget, and he will hide + them. Why should he lay the burden of our sins upon others? And if he does + not why should we?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean we need not always tell? I'd like to tell my—some one.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” she replied, “it's a weary wark and a lanely to carry it oor lane, + but it's an awfu' grief to hear o' anither's sin. An awfu' grief,” she + repeated to herself. + </p> + <p> + “But,” burst out Hughie, “I'll never be right till I tell my mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and then it is she would be carrying the weight o' it.” + </p> + <p> + “But it's against her,” said Hughie, his hands going up to his face. “Oh, + Mrs. Finch, it's just awful mean. I don't know how I did it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye can tell me, laddie, if ye will,” said she, kindly, and Hughie poured + forth the whole burden that had lain so long upon him, but he told it + laying upon Foxy small blame, for during those days, his own part had come + to bulk so large with him that Foxy's was almost forgotten. + </p> + <p> + For some moments after he had done Mrs. Finch sat in silence, leaning + forward and patting the boy's bowed head. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but he is rightly named,” she said, at length. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” asked Hughie, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Yon store-keepin' chiel.” Then she added, “But ye're done wi' him and his + tricks, and ye'll stand up against him and be a man for the wee laddies.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know,” said Hughie, too sick at heart and too penetrated with + the miserable sense of his own meanness and cowardice, to make any + promise. + </p> + <p> + “And as tae ye're mither, laddie,” went on Mrs. Finch, “it will be a sair + burden for her.” When Mrs. Finch was greatly moved she always dropped into + her broadest Scotch. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I know,” said Hughie, his voice now broken with sobs, “and + that's the worst of it. If I didn't have to tell her! She'll just break + her heart, I know. She thinks I'm so—oh, oh—” The long pent up + feelings came flooding forth in groans and sobs. + </p> + <p> + For some moments Mrs. Finch sat quietly, and then she said, “Listen, + laddie. There is Another to be thought of first.” + </p> + <p> + “Another?” asked Hughie. “Oh, yes, I know. But He knows already, and + indeed I have often told Him. But besides, you say He will forget, and + take it away. But mother doesn't know, and doesn't suspect.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, laddie,” said Mrs. Finch, with quiet firmness, “let her tell + ye what to do. Mak ye're offer to tell her, and warn her that it'll grieve + ye baith, and then let her say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll do it. I'll do it to-night, and if she says so, then I'll tell + her.” + </p> + <p> + And so he did, and when he came back to the Finch's on Monday morning, for + his mother saw that leaving school for a time would be no serious loss, + and a week or two with the Finches might be a great gain, he came radiant + to Mrs. Finch, and finding her in her chair by the open window alone, he + burst forth, “I told her, and she wouldn't let me. She didn't want to know + so long as I said it was all made right. And she promised she would trust + me just the same. Oh, she's splendid, my mother! And she's coming this + week to see you. And I tell you I just feel like—like anything! I + can't keep still. I'm like Fido when he's let off his chain. He just goes + wild.” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a pause, he added, in a graver tone, “And mother read Zaccheus + to me. And isn't it fine how He never said a word to him?”—Hughie + was too excited to be coherent—“but stood up for him, and”—here + Hughie's voice became more grave—“I'm going to restore fourfold. I'm + going to work at the hay, and I fired that old pistol into the pond, and + I'm not afraid of Foxy any more, not a bit.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie rushed breathlessly through his story, while the dark face before + him glowed with intelligent sympathy, but she only said, when he had done, + “It is a graund thing to be free, is it no'?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + THE BEAR HUNT + </h3> + <p> + “Is Don round, Mrs. Cameron?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me, Hughie! Did ye sleep in the woods? Come away in. Ye're a sight + for sore eyes. Come away in. And how's ye're mother and all?” + </p> + <p> + “All right, thank you. Is Don in?” + </p> + <p> + “Don? He's somewhere about the barn. But come away, man, there's a bit + bannock here, and some honey.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm in a hurry, Mrs. Cameron, and I can't very well wait,” said Hughie, + trying to preserve an evenness of tone and not allow his excitement to + appear. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well! What's the matter, whatever?” When Hughie refused a “bit + bannock” and honey, something must be seriously wrong. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all, but I'm just wanting Don for a—for something.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, just go to the old barn and cry at him.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie found Don in the old barn, busy “rigging up” his plow, for the + harvest was in and the fall plowing was soon to begin. + </p> + <p> + “Man, Don!” cried Hughie, in a subdued voice, “it's the greatest thing you + ever heard!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it now, Hughie? You look fairly lifted. Have you seen a ghost?” + </p> + <p> + “A ghost? No, something better than that, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie drew near and lowered his voice, while Don worked on indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “It's a bear, Don.” + </p> + <p> + Don dropped his plow. His indifference vanished. The Camerons were great + hunters, and many a bear had they, with their famous black dogs, brought + home in their day, but not for the past year or two; and never had Don + bagged anything bigger than a fox or a coon. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't see him.” Don looked disgusted. “But he was in our house last + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here now, stop that!” said Don, gripping Hughie by the jacket and + shaking him. + </p> + <p> + But Hughie's summer in the harvest-field had built up his muscles, and so + he shook himself free from Don's grasp, and said, “Look out there! I'm + telling you the truth. Last night father was out late and the supper + things were left on the table—some honey and stuff—and after + father had been asleep for a while he was wakened by some one tramping + about the house. He got up, came out of his room, and called out, 'Jessie, + where are the matches?' And just then there was an awful crash, and + something hairy brushed past his leg in the dark and got out of the door. + We all came down, and there was the table upset, the dishes all on the + floor, and four great, big, deep scratches in the table.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! It must have been Fido.” + </p> + <p> + “Fido was in the barn, and just mad to get out; and besides, the tracks + are there yet behind the house. It was a bear, sure enough, and I'm going + after him.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I want you to come with the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw! Dear knows where he'll be now,” said Don, considering. + </p> + <p> + “Like enough in the Big Swamp or in McLeod's beech bush. They're awful + fond of beechnuts. But the dogs can track him, can't they?” + </p> + <p> + “By jingo! I'd like to get him,” said Don, kindling under Hughie's + excitement. “Wait a bit now. Don't say a word. If Murdie hears he'll want + to come, sure, and we don't want him. You wait here till I get the gun and + the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got any bullets or slugs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, lots. Why? Have you a gun?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you just bet! I've got our gun. What did you think I was going to + do? Put salt on his tail? I've got it down the lane.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, you wait there for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be long,” said Hughie, slipping away. + </p> + <p> + It was half an hour before Don appeared with the gun and the dogs. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world kept you? I thought you were never coming,” said + Hughie, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it's no easy thing to get away with mother on hand, but it's + all right. Here's your bullets and slugs. I've brought some bannocks and + cheese. We don't know when we'll get home. We'll pick up the track in your + brule. Does any one know you're going?” + </p> + <p> + “No, only Fusie. He wanted to come, but I wouldn't have it. Fusie gets so + excited.” Hughie's calmness was not phenomenal. He could hardly stand + still for two consecutive seconds. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let's go,” and Don set off on a trot, with one of the black dogs in + leash and the other following, and after him came Hughie running lightly. + </p> + <p> + In twenty minutes they were at the manse clearing. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Don, pulling up, “where did you say you saw his track?” + </p> + <p> + “Just back of the house there, and round the barn, and then straight for + the brule.” + </p> + <p> + The boys stood looking across the fallen timber toward the barn. + </p> + <p> + “There's Fido barking,” said Hughie. “I bet he's on the scent now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Don, “and there's your father, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Gimmini crickets! so it is,” said Hughie, slowly. “I don't think it's + worth while going up there to get that track. Can't we get it just as well + in the woods here?” There were always things to do about the house, and + besides, the minister knew nothing of Hughie's familiarity with the gun, + and hence would soon have put a stop to any such rash venture as + bear-hunting. + </p> + <p> + The boys waited, listening to Fido, who was running back and forward + between the brule and the house barking furiously. The minister seemed + interested in Fido's manoeuvres, and followed him a little way. + </p> + <p> + “Man!” said Hughie, in a whisper, “perhaps he'll go and look for the gun + himself. And Fido will find us, sure. I say, let's go.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's wait a minute,” said Don, “to see what direction Fido takes, and + then we'll put our dogs on.” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes Hughie breathed more freely, for his father seemed to + lose his interest in Fido, and returned slowly to the house. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Hughie, “let's get down into the brule as near Fido as we can + get.” + </p> + <p> + Cautiously the boys made their way through the fallen timber, keeping as + much as possible under cover of the underbrush. But though they hunted + about for some time, the dogs evidently got no scent, for they remained + quite uninterested in the proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “We'll have to get up closer to where Fido is,” said Don, “and the sooner + we get there the better.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Hughie. “I suppose I had better go. Fido will stop + barking for me.” So, while Don lay hid with the dogs in the brule, Hughie + stole nearer and nearer to Fido, who was still chasing down toward the + brule and back to the house, as if urging some one to come forth and + investigate the strange scent he had discovered. Gradually Hughie worked + his way closer to Fido until within calling distance. + </p> + <p> + Just as he was about to whistle for the dog, the back door opened and + forth came the minister again. By this time Fido had passed into the brule + a little way, and could not be seen from the house. It was an anxious + moment for Hughie. He made a sudden desperate resolve. He must secure Fido + now, or else give up the chance of getting on the trail of the bear. So he + left his place of hiding, and bending low, ran swiftly forward until Fido + caught sight of him, and hearing his voice, came to him, barking loudly + and making every demonstration of excitement and joy. He seized the dog by + the collar and dragged him down, and after holding him quiet for a moment, + hauled him back to Don. + </p> + <p> + “We'll have to take him with us,” he said. “I'll put this string on his + collar, and he'll go all right.” And to this Don agreed, though very + unwillingly, for he had no confidence in Fido's hunting ability. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you he's a great fighter,” said Hughie, “if we should ever get + near that bear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Don, “he may fight dogs well enough, but when it comes + to a bear, it's a different thing. Every dog is scared of a bear the first + time he sees him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I bet you Fido won't run from anything,” said Hughie, confidently. + </p> + <p> + To their great relief they saw the minister set off in the opposite + direction across the fields. + </p> + <p> + “Thank goodness! He's off to the McRae's,” said Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” said Don, “we'll go back to the track there, and put the dogs + on. You go on with Fido.” And Hughie set off with Fido pulling eagerly + upon the string. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the spot where Fido had been seized by Hughie, suddenly + the black dog who had been following Don at some distance, stopped short + and began to growl. In a moment his mate threw up his nose and began + sniffing about, the hair rising stiff upon his back. + </p> + <p> + “He's catching it,” said Don, in an excited tone. “Here, you hold him. I + must get the other one, or he'll be off.” He was not a minute too soon, + for the other dog, who had been ranging about, suddenly found the trail, + and with a fierce, short bark, was about to dash off when Don threw + himself upon him. In a few moments both dogs were on the leash, and set + off upon the scent at a great pace. The trail was evidently plain enough + to the dogs, for they followed hard, leading the boys deeper and deeper + into the bush. + </p> + <p> + “He's making for the Big Swamp,” said Don, and on they went, with eyes and + ears on the alert, expecting every moment to hear the snort of a bear, or + to meet him on the further side of every bunch of underbrush. + </p> + <p> + For an hour they went on at a steady trot, over and under fallen logs, + splashing through water holes, crashing over dead brushwood, and tearing + through the interlacing boughs of the thick underbrush of spruce and + balsam. The black dogs never hesitated. They knew well what was their + business there, and that they kept strictly in mind. Fido, on the other + hand, who loved to roam the woods in an aimless hunt for any and every + wild thing that might cross his nose, but who never had seriously hunted + anything in particular, trotted good-naturedly behind Hughie with rather a + bored expression on his face. + </p> + <p> + The trail, which had led them steadily north, all at once turned west and + away from the swamp. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” said Don, “he's making for Alan Gorrach's cabin.” + </p> + <p> + “Man!” said Hughie, “that would be fine, to get him there. It's good and + open, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Too open by a long way,” grunted Don. “We'd never get him there.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, the dogs led up from the swamp and along the path to Alan's + cabin. The door stood open, and in answer to Don's “Horo!” Alan came out. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” he said, glowering at Don. + </p> + <p> + “You won't be wanting any dogs to-day, Alan?” said Don, politely. + </p> + <p> + Alan glanced at him suspiciously, but said not a word. + </p> + <p> + “These are very good dogs, indeed, Alan.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on your ways, now,” said Alan. + </p> + <p> + “These black ones are not in very good condition, but Fido there is a + good, fat dog.” + </p> + <p> + Alan's wrath began to rise. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be going on, now, about your business?” + </p> + <p> + “Better take them, Alan, there's a hard winter coming on.” + </p> + <p> + “Mac an' Diabhoil!” cried Alan, in a shrill voice, suddenly bursting into + fury. “I will be having your heart's blood,” he cried, rushing into his + cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Hughie,” cried Don, and away they rushed, following the black + dogs upon the trail of the bear. + </p> + <p> + Deeper and deeper into the swamp the dogs led the way, the going becoming + more difficult and the underbrush thicker at every step. After an hour or + two of hard work, the dogs began to falter, and ran hither and thither, + now on one scent and then on another, till tired out and disgusted, Don + held them in, and threw himself down upon the soft moss that lay deep over + everything. + </p> + <p> + “We're on his old tracks here,” said Don, savagely, “and you can't pick + out the new from the old.” + </p> + <p> + “His hole must be somewhere not too far away,” said Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, perhaps it is, but then again it may be across the ridge. At any + rate, we'll have some grub.” + </p> + <p> + As they ate the bannocks and cheese, they pictured to themselves what they + should do if they ever should come up with the bear. + </p> + <p> + “One thing we've got to be careful of,” said Don, “and that is, not to + lose our heads.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” assented Hughie, feeling quite cool and self-possessed at the + time. + </p> + <p> + “Because if you lose your head you're done for,” continued Don. “Remember + Ken McGregor?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you ever hear that? Why, he ran into a bear, and made a drive at + him with his axe, but the bear, with one paw knocked the axe clear out of + his hand, and with one sweep of the other tore his insides right out. + They're mighty cute, too,” went on Don. “They'll pretend to be almost dead + just to coax you near enough, and then they'll spin round on their hind + legs like a rooster. If they ever do catch you, the only thing to do is to + lie still and make believe you're dead, and then, unless they're very + hungry, they won't hurt you much.” + </p> + <p> + After half an hour's rest, the hunting instinct awoke again within them, + and the boys determined to make another attempt. After circling about the + swamp for some time, the boys came upon a beaten track which led straight + through the heart of the swamp. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Don, “this is going to strike the ridge somewhere just about + there,” pointing northeast, “and if we don't see anything between here and + the ridge, we'll strike home that way. It'll be better walking than this + cursed swamp, anyway. Are you tired?” + </p> + <p> + Hughie refused to acknowledge any weariness. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I am,” said Don. + </p> + <p> + The trail was clear enough, and they were able to follow at a good pace, + so that in a few minutes, as they had expected, they struck the northeast + end of the swamp. Here again they called a halt, and tying up the dogs, + lay down upon the dry, brown leaves, lazily eating the beechnuts and + discussing their prospects of meeting the bear, and their plans for + dealing with him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let's go on,” at length said Don. “There's just a chance of our + meeting him on this ridge. He's got a den somewhere down in the swamp, and + he may be coming home this way. Besides, it'll take us all our time, now, + to get home before dark. I guess there's no use keeping the dogs any + longer. We'll just let them go.” So saying, Don let the black dogs go + free, but after a little skirmishing through the open beech woods, the + dogs appeared to lose all interest in the expedition, and kept close to + Don's heels. + </p> + <p> + Fido, on the other hand, followed, ranging the woods on either side, + cheerfully interested in scaring up rabbits, ground-hogs, and squirrels. + He had never known the rapture of bringing down big game, and so was + content with whatever came his way. + </p> + <p> + At length the hunters reached the main trail where their paths separated; + but a little of the swamp still remained, and on the other side was the + open clearing. + </p> + <p> + “This is your best way,” said Don, pointing out the path to Hughie. “We + had bad luck to-day, but we'll try again. We may meet him still, you know, + so don't fire at any squirrel or anything. If I hear a shot I'll come to + you, and you do the same by me.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Hughie, “where does this track of mine come out? Is it below + the Deepole there, or is it on the other side of the clearing?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, don't you know?” said Don. “This runs right up to the back of the + Fisher's berry patch, and through the sugar-bush to your own clearing. + I'll go with you if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Hughie, “I'll find it all right. Come on, Fido.” But + Fido had disappeared. “Good night, Don.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” said Don. “Mind you don't fire unless it's at a bear. I'll + do the same.” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes Hughie found himself alone in the thick underbrush of the + swamp. The shadows were lying heavy, and the sunlight that still caught + the tops of the tall trees was quite lost in the gloom of the low + underbrush. Deep moss under foot, with fallen trees and thick-growing + balsam and cedars, made the walking difficult, and every step Hughie + wished himself out in the clearing. He began to feel, too, the oppression + of the falling darkness. He tried whistling to keep up his courage, but + the sound seemed to fill the whole woods about him, and he soon gave it + up. + </p> + <p> + After a few minutes he stood still and called for Fido, but the dog had + gone on some hunt of his own, and with a sense of deeper loneliness, he + set himself again to his struggle with the moss and brush and fallen + trees. At length he reached firmer ground, and began with more cheerful + heart to climb up to the open. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he heard a rustle, and saw the brush in front of him move. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there you are, you brute,” he cried, “come in here. Come in, Fido. + Here, sir!” + </p> + <p> + He pushed the bushes aside, and his heart jumped and filled his mouth. A + huge, black shape stood right across his path not ten paces away. A moment + they gazed at each other, and then, with a low growl, the bear began to + sway awkwardly toward him. Hughie threw up his gun and fired. The bear + paused, snapping viciously and tearing at his wounded shoulder, and then + rushed on Hughie without waiting to rise on his hind legs. + </p> + <p> + Like a flash Hughie dodged behind the brush, and then fled like the wind + toward the open. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the bear shambling + after him at a great pace, and gaining at every jump, and his heart froze + with terror. The balsams and spruces were all too low for safety. A little + way before him he saw a small birch. If he could only make that he might + escape. Summoning all his strength he rushed for the tree, the bear + closing fast upon him. Could he spring up out of reach of the bear's awful + claws? + </p> + <p> + Two yards from the tree he heard an angry snap and snarl at his heels. + With a cry, he dropped his gun, and springing for the lowest bough, drew + up his legs quickly after him with the horrible feeling of having them + ripped asunder. To his amazement he found that the bear was not scrambling + up the tree after him, but was still some paces off, with Fido skirmishing + at long range. It was Fido's timely nip that had brought him to a sudden + halt, and allowed Hughie to make his climb in safety. + </p> + <p> + “Good dog, Fido. Sic him! Sic him, old fellow!” cried out Hughie, but Fido + was new to this kind of warfare, and at every jump of the raging brute he + fled into the brush with his tail between his legs, returning, however, to + the attack as the bear retired. + </p> + <p> + After driving Fido off, the bear rushed at the tree, and in a fury began + tearing up its roots. Then, as if realizing the futility of this, he flung + himself upon its trunk and began shaking it with great violence from side + to side. + </p> + <p> + Hughie soon saw that the tree would not long stand such an attack. He + slipped down to the lowest bough so that his weight might be taken from + the swaying top, and encouraging Fido, awaited results. + </p> + <p> + He found himself singularly cool. Having escaped immediate danger, the + hunter's instinct awoke within him, and he longed to get that bear. If he + only had his gun, he would soon settle him, but the bear, unfortunately, + had possession of that. He began hurriedly to cut off as stout a branch as + he could to make himself a club. He was not a moment too soon, for the + bear, realizing that he could neither tear up the tree by the roots nor + shake his enemy out of it, decided, apparently, to go up for him. + </p> + <p> + He first set himself to get rid of Fido, which he partially succeeded in + doing by chasing him a long distance off. Then, with a great rush, he flew + at the tree, and with amazing rapidity began to climb. + </p> + <p> + Hughie, surprised by this swift attack, hastened to climb to the higher + branches, but in a moment he saw that this would be fatal. Remembering + that the bear is like the dog in his sensitive parts, he descended to meet + his advancing foe, and reaching down, hit him a sharp blow on the snout. + With a roar of rage and surprise the bear let go his hold, slipped to the + ground, and began to tear up the earth, sneezing violently. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if I only had that gun,” groaned Hughie, “I'd get him. And if he gets + away after Fido again, I believe I'll try it.” + </p> + <p> + The bear now set himself to plan some new form of attack. He had been + wounded, but only enough to enrage him, and his fury served to fix more + firmly in his head the single purpose of getting into his grip this enemy + of his in the tree, whom he appeared to have so nearly at his mercy. + </p> + <p> + Whatever his new plan might be, a necessary preliminary was getting rid of + Fido, and this he proceeded to do. Round about the trees he pursued him, + getting farther and farther away from the birch, till Hughie, watching his + chance, slipped down the tree and ran for his gun. But no sooner had he + stooped for it than the bear saw the move, and with an angry roar rushed + for him. + </p> + <p> + Once more Hughie sprang for his branch, but the gun caught in the boughs + and he slipped to the ground, the bear within striking distance. With a + cry he sprang again, reached his bough and drew himself up, holding his + precious gun safe, wondering how he had escaped. Again it was Fido that + had saved him, for as the bear had gathered himself to spring, Fido, + seeing his chance, rushed boldly in, and flinging himself upon the hind + leg of the enraged brute, held fast. It was the boy's salvation, but alas! + it was Fido's destruction, for wheeling suddenly, the bear struck a swift + downward blow with his powerful front paw, and tore the whole side of the + faithful brute wide open. With a howl, poor Fido dragged himself away out + of reach and lay down, moaning pitifully. + </p> + <p> + The bear, realizing that he had got rid of one foe, now proceeded more + cautiously to deal with the other, and began warily climbing the tree, + keeping his wicked little eyes fixed upon Hughie. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Hughie was loading his gun with all speed. He emptied his + powder-horn into the muzzle, and with the bear coming slowly nearer, began + to search for his bullets. Through one pocket after another his trembling + fingers flew, while with the butt of his gun he menaced his approaching + enemy. + </p> + <p> + “Where are those bullets?” he groaned. “Ah, here they are!” diving into + his trousers pocket. “Fool of a place to keep them, too!” + </p> + <p> + He took a handful of slugs and bullets, poured them into his gun, rammed + down a wadding of leaves upon all, retreating as he did so to the higher + limbs, the bear following him steadily. But just as he had his cap + securely fixed upon the nipple, the bear suddenly revealed his plan. + Holding by his front paws, he threw his hind legs off from the trunk. It + was his usual method of felling trees. The tree swayed and bent till the + top almost touched the ground. But Hughie, with his legs wreathed round + the trunk, brought his gun to his shoulder, and with its muzzle almost + touching the breast of the hanging brute, pulled the trigger. + </p> + <p> + There was a terrific report, the bear dropped in a heap from the tree, and + Hughie was hurled violently to the ground some distance away, partially + stunned. He raised himself to see the bear struggle up to a sitting + position, and gnashing his teeth, and flinging blood and foam from his + mouth, begin to drag himself toward him. He was conscious of a languid + indifference, and found himself wondering how long the bear would take to + cover the distance. + </p> + <p> + But while he was thus cogitating there was a sharp, quick bark, and a + great black form hurled itself at the bear's throat and bore the fierce + brute to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Drawing a long sigh, Hughie sank back to the ground, with the sound of a + far-away shot in his ears, and darkness veiling his eyes. + </p> + <p> + He was awakened by Don's voice anxiously calling him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt much, Hughie? Did he squeeze you?” + </p> + <p> + Hughie sat up, blinking stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he asked. “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the bear, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “The bear? No. Man! It's too bad you weren't here, Don,” he went on, + rousing himself. “He can't be gone far.” + </p> + <p> + “Not very,” said Don, laughing loud. “Yonder he lies.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie turned his head and gazed, wondering, at the great black mass over + which Don's black dogs were standing guard, and sniffing with supreme + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Then all came back to him. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Fido?” he asked, rising. “Yes, it was Fido saved me, for sure. He + tackled the bear every time he rushed at me, and hung onto him just as I + climbed the tree the second time.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he walked over to the place where he had last seen the dog. A + little farther on, behind a spruce-tree, they found poor Fido, horribly + mangled and dead. + </p> + <p> + Hughie stooped down over him. “Poor old boy, poor old Fido,” he said, in a + low voice, stroking his head. + </p> + <p> + Don turned away and walked whistling toward the bear. As he sat beside the + black carcass his two dogs came to him. He threw his arms round them, + saying, “Poor old Blackie! Poor Nigger!” and he understood how Hughie was + feeling behind the spruce-tree beside the faithful dog that had given him + his life. + </p> + <p> + As he sat there waiting for Hughie, he heard voices. + </p> + <p> + “Horo!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you? Is that you, Don?” It was his father's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, here we are.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Hughie there?” inquired another voice. + </p> + <p> + “Losh me! that's the minister,” said Don. “Yes, all right,” he cried + aloud, as up came Long John Cameron and the minister, with Fusie and a + stranger bringing up the rear. + </p> + <p> + “Fine work, this. You're fine fellows, indeed,” cried Long John, + “frightening people in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Hughie?” said the minister, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Hughie came from behind the brush, hurriedly wiping his eyes. “Here, + father,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And what are you doing here at this hour of the night, pray?” said the + minister, angrily, turning toward him. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't get home very well,” replied Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “And why not, pray? Don't begin any excuses with me, sir.” Nothing annoyed + the minister as an attempt to excuse ill-doing. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he would have been glad enough to have got home half an hour ago, + sir,” broke in Don, laughing. “Look there.” He pointed to the bear lying + dead, with Nigger standing over him. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord save us!” said Long John Cameron, himself the greatest among the + hunters of the county. “What do you say? And how did you get him? + Jee-ru-piter! he's a grand one.” + </p> + <p> + The old man, the minister, and Don walked about the bear in admiring + procession. + </p> + <p> + “Yon's a terrible gash,” said Long John, pointing to a gaping wound in the + breast. “Was that your Snider, Don?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it, father. The bear's Hughie's. He killed him himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Losh me! And you don't tell me! And how did you manage that, Hughie?” + </p> + <p> + “He chased me up that tree, and I guess would have got me only for Fido.” + </p> + <p> + The minister gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Got you? Was he as near as that?” + </p> + <p> + “He wasn't three feet away,” said Hughie, and with that he proceeded to + give, in his most graphic style, a description of his great fight with the + bear. + </p> + <p> + “When I heard the first shot,” said Don, “I was away across the swamp. I + tell you I tore back here, and when I came, what did I see but Hughie and + Mr. Bear both sitting down and looking coolly at each other a few yards + apart. And then Nigger downed him and I put a bullet into his heart.” Don + was greatly delighted, and extremely proud of Hughie's achievement. + </p> + <p> + “And how did you know about it?” asked Don of his father. + </p> + <p> + “It was the minister here came after me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the minister, “it was Fusie told me you had gone off on a bear + hunt, and so I went along to the Cameron's with Mr. Craven here, to see if + you had got home.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Mr. Craven had been looking Hughie over. + </p> + <p> + “Mighty plucky thing,” he said. “Great nerve,” and he lapsed into silence, + while Fusie could not contain himself, but danced from one foot to the + other with excited exclamations. + </p> + <p> + The minister had come out intending, as he said, “to teach that boy a + lesson that he would remember,” but as he listened to Hughie's story, his + anger gave place to a great thankfulness. + </p> + <p> + “It was a great mercy, my boy,” he said at length, when he was quite sure + of his voice, “that you had Fido with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, father,” said Hughie. “It was Fido saved me.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the Lord's goodness,” said the minister, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “And a great mercy,” said Long John, “that your lad kept his head and + showed such courage. You have reason to be proud of him.” + </p> + <p> + The minister said nothing just then, but at home, when recounting the + exploit to the mother, he could hardly contain his pride in his son. + </p> + <p> + “Never thought the boy would have a nerve like that, he's so excitable. I + had rather he killed that bear than win a medal at the university.” + </p> + <p> + The mother sat silent through all the story, her cheek growing more and + more pale, but not a word did she say until the tale was done, and then + she said, “'Who delivereth thee from destruction.'” + </p> + <p> + “A little like David, mother, wasn't it?” said Hughie; but though there + was a smile on his face, his manner and tone were earnest enough. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said his mother, “a good deal like David, for it was the same God + that delivered you both.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather hard to cut Fido out of his share of the glory,” said Mr. Craven, + “not to speak of a cool head and a steady nerve.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murray regarded him for a moment or two in silence, as if meditating + an answer, but finally she only said, “We shall cut no one out of the + glory due to him.” + </p> + <p> + At the supper-table the whole affair was discussed in all its bearings. In + this discussion Hughie took little part, making light of his exploit, and + giving most of the credit to Fido, and the mother wondered at the unusual + reserve and gravity that had fallen upon her boy. Indeed, Hughie was + wondering at himself. He had a strange new feeling in his heart. He had + done a man's deed, and for the first time in his life he felt it + unnecessary to glory in his deeds. He had come to a new experience, that + great deeds need no voice to proclaim them. During the thrilling moments + of that terrible hour he had entered the borderland of manhood, and the + awe of that new world was now upon his spirit. + </p> + <p> + It was chiefly this new experience of his that was sobering him, but it + helped him not a little to check his wonted boyish exuberance that at the + table opposite him sat a strange young man, across whose dark, magnetic + face there flitted, now and then, a lazy, cynical smile. Hughie feared + that lazy smile, and he felt that it would shrivel into self-contempt any + feeling of boastfulness. + </p> + <p> + The mother and Hughie said little to each other, waiting to be alone, and + after Hughie had gone to his room his mother talked long with him, but + when Mr. Craven, on his way to bed, heard the low, quiet tones of the + mother's voice through the shut door, he knew it was not to Hughie she was + speaking, and the smile upon his face lost a little of its cynicism. + </p> + <p> + Next day there was no smile when he stood with Hughie under the + birch-tree, watching the lad hew flat one side, but gravely enough he took + the paper on which Hughie had written, “Fido, Sept. 13th, 18—,” + saying as he did so, “I shall cut this for you. It is good to remember + brave deeds.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + JOHN CRAVEN'S METHOD + </h3> + <p> + Mr. John Craven could not be said to take his school-teaching seriously; + and indeed, any one looking at his face would hardly expect him to take + anything seriously, and certainly those who in his college days followed + and courted and kept pace with Jack Craven, and knew his smile, would have + expected from him anything other than seriousness. He appeared to himself + to be enacting a kind of grim comedy, exile as he was in a foreign land, + among people of a strange tongue. + </p> + <p> + He knew absolutely nothing of pedagogical method, and consequently he + ignored all rules and precedents in the teaching and conduct of the + school. His discipline was of a most fantastic kind. He had a feeling that + all lessons were a bore, therefore he would assign the shortest and + easiest of tasks. But having assigned the tasks, he expected perfection in + recitation, and impressed his pupils with the idea that nothing less would + pass. His ideas of order were of the loosest kind, and hence the noise at + times was such that even the older pupils found it unbearable; but when + the hour for recitation came, somehow a deathlike stillness fell upon the + school, and the unready shivered with dread apprehension. And yet he never + thrashed the boys; but his fear lay upon them, for his eyes held the + delinquent with such an intensity of magnetic, penetrating power that the + unhappy wretch felt as if any kind of calamity might befall him. + </p> + <p> + When one looked at John Craven's face, it was the eyes that caught and + held the attention. They were black, without either gleam or glitter, + indeed almost dull—a lady once called them “smoky eyes.” They + looked, under lazy, half-drooping lids, like things asleep, except in + moments of passion, when there appeared, far down, a glowing fire, red and + terrible. At such moments it seemed as if, looking through these, one were + catching sight of a soul ablaze. They were like the dull glow of a furnace + through an inky night. + </p> + <p> + He was constitutionally and habitually lazy, but in a reading lesson he + would rouse himself at times, and by his utterance of a single line make + the whole school sit erect. Friday afternoon he gave up to what he called + “the cultivation of the finer arts.” On that afternoon he would bring his + violin and teach the children singing, hear them read and recite, and read + for them himself; and no greater punishment could be imposed upon the + school than the loss of this afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “Man alive! Thomas, he's mighty queer,” Hughie explained to his friend. + “When he sits there with his feet on the stove smoking away and reading + something or other, and letting them all gabble like a lot of ducks, it + just makes me mad. But when he wakes up he puts the fear of death on you, + and when he reads he makes you shiver through and through. You know that + long rigmarole, 'Friends, Romans, countrymen'? I used to hate it. Well, + sir, he told us about it last Friday. You know, on Friday afternoons we + don't do any work, but just have songs and reading, and that sort of + thing. Well, sir, last Friday he told us about the big row in Rome, and + how Caesar was murdered, and then he read that thing to us. By gimmini + whack! it made me hot and cold. I could hardly keep from yelling, and + every one was white. And then he read that other thing, you know, about + Little Nell. Used to make me sick, but, my goodness alive! do you know, + before he got through the girls were wiping their eyes, and I was almost + as bad, and you could have heard a pin drop. He's mighty queer, though, + lazy as the mischief, and always smiling and smiling, and yet you don't + feel like smiling back.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like him?” asked Thomas, bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno. I'd like to, but he won't let you, somehow. Just smiles at you, + and you feel kind of small.” + </p> + <p> + The reports about the master were conflicting and disquieting, and + although Hughie was himself doubtful, he stood up vehemently for him at + home. + </p> + <p> + “But, Hughie,” protested the minister, discussing these reports, “I am + told that he actually smokes in school.” + </p> + <p> + Hughie was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Answer me! Does he smoke in school hours?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” confessed Hughie, reluctantly, “he does sometimes, but only after + he gives us all our work to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Smoke in school hours!” ejaculated Mrs. Murray, horrified. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's the harm in that? Father smokes.” + </p> + <p> + “But he doesn't smoke when he is preaching,” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “No, but he smokes right afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “But not in church.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps not in church, but school's different. And anyway, he makes + them read better, and write better too,” said Hughie, stoutly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said his father, “he is a most remarkable man. A most unusual + man.” + </p> + <p> + “What about your sums, Hughie?” asked his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know. He doesn't bother much with that sort of thing, and I'm just + as glad.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought really to speak to him about it,” said Mrs. Murray, after + Hughie had left the room. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear,” said the minister, smiling, “you heard what Hughie said. + It would be rather awkward for me to speak to him about smoking. I think, + perhaps, you had better do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” said his wife, with a slight laugh, “it would be just as + awkward for me. I wonder what those Friday afternoons of his mean,” she + continued. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I don't know, but everywhere throughout the section I hear the + children speak of them. We'll just drop in and see. I ought to visit the + school, you know, very soon.” + </p> + <p> + And so they did. The master was surprised, and for a moment appeared + uncertain what to do. He offered to put the classes through their regular + lessons, but at once there was a noisy outcry against this on the part of + the school, which, however, was effectually and immediately quelled by the + quiet suggestion on the master's part that anything but perfect order + would be fatal to the programme. And upon the minister requesting that the + usual exercises proceed, the master smilingly agreed. + </p> + <p> + “We make Friday afternoons,” he said, “at once a kind of reward day for + good work during the week, and an opportunity for the cultivation of some + of the finer arts.” + </p> + <p> + And certainly he was a master in this business. He had strong dramatic + instincts, and a remarkable power to stimulate and draw forth the + emotions. + </p> + <p> + When the programme of singing, recitations, and violin-playing was + finished, there were insistent calls on every side for “Mark Antony.” It + appeared to be the 'piece de resistance' in the minds of the children. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” inquired the minister, as the master stood smiling + at his pupils. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they are demanding a little high tragedy,” he said, “which I + sometimes give them. It assists in their reading lessons,” he explained, + apologetically, and with that he gave them what Hughie called, “that + rigmarole beginning, 'Friends, Romans, countrymen,'” Mark Antony's + immortal oration. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the minister, as they drove away from the school, “what do + you think of that, now?” + </p> + <p> + “Marvelous!” exclaimed his wife. “What dramatic power, what insight, what + interpretation!” + </p> + <p> + “You may say so,” exclaimed her husband. “What an actor he would make!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said his wife, “or what a minister he would make! I understand, + now, his wonderful influence over Hughie, and I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “O, he can't do Hughie any harm with things like that,” replied her + husband, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “No, but Hughie now and then repeats some of his sayings about—about + religion and religious convictions, that I don't like. And then he is + hanging about that Twentieth store altogether too much, and I fancied I + noticed something strange about him last Friday evening when he came home + so late.” + </p> + <p> + “O, nonsense,” said the minister. “His reputation has prejudiced you, and + that is not fair, and your imagination does the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a great pity that he should not do something with himself,” + replied his wife. “There are great possibilities in that young man.” + </p> + <p> + “He does not take himself seriously enough,” said her husband. “That is + the chief trouble with him.” + </p> + <p> + And this was apparently Jack Craven's opinion of himself, as is evident + from his letter to his college friend, Ned Maitland. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Ned:— + </p> + <p> + “For the last two months I have been seeking to adjust myself to my + surroundings, and find it no easy business. I have struck the land of the + Anakim, for the inhabitants are all of 'tremenjous' size, and indeed, + 'tremenjous' in all their ways, more particularly in their religion. + Religion is all over the place. You are liable to come upon a boy anywhere + perched on a fence corner with a New Testament in his hand, and on Sunday + the 'tremenjousness' of their religion is overwhelming. Every other + interest in life, as meat, drink, and dress, are purely incidental to the + main business of the day, which is the delivering, hearing, and discussing + of sermons. + </p> + <p> + “The padre, at whose house I am very happily quartered, is a 'tremenjous' + preacher. He has visions, and gives them to me. He gives me chills and + thrills as well, and has discovered to me a conscience, a portion of my + anatomy that I had no suspicion of possessing. + </p> + <p> + “The congregation is like the preacher. They will sit for two hours, and + after a break of a few minutes they will sit again for two hours, + listening to sermons; and even the interval is somewhat evenly divided + between their bread and cheese in the churchyard and the discussion of the + sermon they have just listened to. They are great on theology. One worthy + old party tackled me on my views of the sermon we had just heard; after a + little preliminary sparring I went to my corner. I often wonder in what + continent I am. + </p> + <p> + “The school, a primitive little log affair, has much run to seed, but + offers opportunity for repose. I shall avoid any unnecessary excitement in + this connection. + </p> + <p> + “In private life the padre is really very decent. We have great smokes + together, and talks. On all subjects he has very decided opinions, and in + everything but religion, liberal views. I lure him into philosophic + discussions, and overwhelm him with my newest and biggest metaphysical + terms, which always reduce his enormous cocksureness to more reasonable + dimensions. + </p> + <p> + “The minister's wife is quite another proposition. She argues, too, but + unfortunately she asks questions, in the meekest way possible + acknowledging her ignorance of my big terms, and insisting upon + definitions and exact meanings, and then it's all over with me. How she + ever came to this far land, heaven knows, and none but heaven can explain + such waste. Having no kindred soul to talk with, I fancy she enjoys + conversation with myself, (sic) revels in music, is transported to the + fifth heaven by my performance on the violin, but evidently pities me and + regards me as dangerous. But, my dear Maitland, after a somewhat wide and + varied experience of fine ladies, I give you my verdict that here among + the Anakim, and in this wild, woody land, is a lady fine and fair and + saintly. She will bother me, I know. Her son Hughie (he of the bear), of + whom I told you, the lad with the face of an angel and the temper of an + angel, but of a different color—her son Hughie she must make into a + scholar. And no wonder, for already he has attained a remarkable degree of + excellence, by the grace, not of the little log school, however, I venture + to shy. His mother has been at him. But now she feels that something more + is needed, and for that she turns to me. You will be able to see the humor + of it, but not the pathos. She wants to make a man out of her boy, 'a + noble, pure-hearted gentleman,' and this she lays upon me! Did I hear you + laugh? Smile not, it is the most tragic of pathos. Upon me, Jack Craven, + the despair of the professors, the terror of the watch, the—alas! + you know only too well. My tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, and + before I could cry, 'Heaven forbid that I should have a hand in the making + of your boy!' she accepted my pledge to do her desire for her young angel + with the OTHER-angelic temper. + </p> + <p> + “And now, my dear Ned, is it for my sins that I am thus pursued? What is + awaiting me I know not. What I shall do with the young cub I have not the + ghostliest shadow of an idea. Shall I begin by thrashing him soundly? I + have refrained so far; I hate the role of executioner. Or shall I teach + him boxing? The gloves are a great educator, and are at times what the + padre would call 'means of grace.' + </p> + <p> + “But what will become of me? Shall I become prematurely aged, or shall I + become a saint? Expect anything from your most devoted, but most sorely + bored and perplexed, + </p> + <p> + “J. C.” <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + THE DOWNFALL + </h3> + <p> + In one point the master was a great disappointment to Hughie; he could not + be persuaded to play shinny. The usual challenge had come up from the + Front, with its more than usual insolence, and Hughie, who now ranked + himself among the big boys, felt the shame and humiliation to be + intolerable. By the most strenuous exertions he started the game going + with the first fall of snow, but it was difficult to work up any + enthusiasm for the game in the face of Foxy's very determined and weighty + opposition, backed by the master's lazy indifference. For, in spite of + Hughie's contempt and open sneers, Foxy had determined to reopen his store + with new and glowing attractions. He seemed to have a larger command of + capital than ever, and he added several very important departments to his + financial undertaking. + </p> + <p> + The rivalry between Hughie and Foxy had become acute, but besides this, + there was in Hughie's heart a pent-up fierceness and longing for revenge + that he could with difficulty control. And though he felt pretty certain + that in an encounter with Foxy he would come off second best, and though + in consequence he delayed that encounter as long as possible, he never let + Foxy suspect his fear of him, and waited with some anxiety for the + inevitable crisis. + </p> + <p> + Upon one thing Hughie was resolved, that the challenge from the Front + should be accepted, and that they should no longer bear the taunt of + cowardice, but should make a try, even though it meant certain defeat. + </p> + <p> + His first step had been the organization of the shinny club. His next step + was to awaken the interest of the master. But in vain he enlarged upon the + boastfulness and insolence of the Front; in vain he recounted the + achievements of their heroes of old, who in those brave days had won + victory and fame over all comers for their school and county; the master + would not be roused to anything more than a languid interest in the game. + And this was hardly to be wondered at, for shinny in the snow upon the + roadway in front of the school was none too exciting. But from the day + when the game was transferred to the mill-pond, one Saturday afternoon + when the North and South met in battle, the master's indifference + vanished, for it turned out that he was an enthusiastic skater, and as + Hughie said, “a whirlwind on the ice.” + </p> + <p> + After that day shinny was played only upon the ice, and the master, + assuming the position of coach, instituted a more scientific style of + game, and worked out a system of combined play that made even small boys + dangerous opponents to boys twice their size and weight. Under his + guidance it was that the challenge to the Front was so worded as to make + the contest a game on ice, and to limit the number of the team to eleven. + Formerly the number had been somewhat indefinite, varying from fifteen to + twenty, and the style of play a general melee. Hughie was made captain of + the shinny team, and set himself, under the master's direction, to perfect + their combination and team play. + </p> + <p> + The master's unexpected interest in the shinny game was the first and + chief cause of Foxy's downfall as leader of the school, and if Hughie had + possessed his soul in patience he might have enjoyed the spectacle of + Foxy's overthrow without involving himself in the painful consequences + which his thirst for vengeance and his vehement desire to accomplish + Foxy's ruin brought upon him. + </p> + <p> + The story of the culmination of the rivalry between Hughie and Foxy is + preserved in John Craven's second letter to his friend Edward Maitland. + The letter also gives an account of the master's own undoing—an + undoing which bore fruit to the end of his life. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Ned:— + </p> + <p> + “I hasten to correct the false impression my previous letter must have + conveyed to you. It occurs to me that I suggested that this school + afforded unrivaled opportunities for repose. Further acquaintance reveals + to me the fact that it is the seething center of the most nerve-racking + excitement. The life of the school is reflected in the life of the + community, and the throbs of excitement that vibrate from the school are + felt in every home of the section. We are in the thick of preparations for + a deadly contest with the insolent, benighted, boastful, but hitherto + triumphant Front, in the matter of shinny. You know my antipathy to + violent sports, and you will find some difficulty in picturing me an + enthusiastic trainer and general director of the Twentieth team, flying + about, wildly gesticulating with a club, and shrieking orders, + imprecations, cautions, encouragements, in the most frantic manner, at as + furious a company of little devils as ever went joyously to battle. + </p> + <p> + “Then, as if this were not excitement enough, I am made the unwitting + spectator of a truly Homeric contest, bloodier by far than many of those + fought on the plains of windy Troy, between the rival leaders of the + school, to wit, Hughie of the angelic face and OTHER-angelic temper, and + an older and much heavier boy, who rejoices in the cognomen of 'Foxy,' as + being accurately descriptive at once of the brilliance of his foliage and + of his financial tactics. + </p> + <p> + “It appears that for many months this rivalry has existed, but I am + convinced that there is more in the struggle than appears on the surface. + There is some dark and deadly mystery behind it all that only adds, of + course, to the thrilling interest it holds for me. + </p> + <p> + “Long before I arrived on the arena, which was an open space in the woods + in front of what Foxy calls his store, wild shrieks and yells fell upon my + ears, as if the aboriginal denizens of the forest had returned. Quietly + approaching, I soon guessed the nature of the excitement, and being + unwilling to interfere until I had thoroughly grasped the ethical and + other import of the situation, I shinned up a tree, and from this point of + vantage took in the spectacle. It appeared from Foxy's violent accusations + that Hughie had been guilty of wrecking the store, which, by the way, the + latter utterly despises and contemns. The following interesting and + striking conversation took place: + </p> + <p> + “'What are you doing in my store, anyway?' says he of the brilliant + foliage. 'You're just a thief, that's what you are, and a sneaking thief.' + </p> + <p> + “Promptly the lie comes back. 'I wasn't touching your rotten stuff!' and + again the lie is exchanged. + </p> + <p> + “Immediately there is demand from the spectators that the matter be argued + to a demonstration, and thereupon one of the larger boys, wishing to + precipitate matters and to furnish a casus belli, puts a chip upon + Hughie's shoulder and dares Foxy to knock it off. But Hughie flings the + chip aside. + </p> + <p> + “'Go away with yourself and your chip. I'm not going to fight for any + chip.' + </p> + <p> + “Yells of derision, 'Cowardy, cowardy, custard,' 'Give him a good cuffing, + Foxy,' 'He's afraid,' and so forth. And indeed, Hughie appears none too + anxious to prove his innocence and integrity upon the big and solid body + of his antagonist. + </p> + <p> + “Foxy, much encouraged by the clamor of his friends, deploys in force in + front of his foe, shouting, 'Come on, you little thief!' + </p> + <p> + “'I'm not a thief! I didn't touch one of your things!' + </p> + <p> + “'Whether you touched my things or not, you're a thief, anyway, and you + know you are. You stole money, and I know it, and you know it yourself.' + </p> + <p> + “To this Hughie strangely enough makes no reply, wherein lies the mystery. + But though he makes no reply he faces up boldly to Foxy and offers battle. + This is evidently a surprise to Foxy, who contents himself with threats as + to what he can do with his one hand tied behind his back, and what he will + do in a minute, while Hughie waits, wasting no strength upon words. + </p> + <p> + “Finally Foxy strides to his store door, and apparently urged to frenzy by + the sight of the wreckage therein, comes back and lands a sharp cuff on + his antagonist's ear. + </p> + <p> + “It is all that is needed. As if he had touched a spring, Hughie flew at + him wildly, inconsequently making a windmill of his arms. But fortunately + he runs foul of one of Foxy's big fists, and falls back with spouting + nose. Enthusiastic yells from Foxy's following. And Foxy, having done much + better than he expected, is encouraged to pursue his advantage. + </p> + <p> + “Meantime the blood is being mopped off Hughie's face with a snowball, his + tears flowing equally with his blood. + </p> + <p> + “'Wait till to-morrow,' urges Fusie, his little French fidus Achates. + </p> + <p> + “'To-morrow!' yells Hughie, suddenly. 'No, but now! I'll kill the lying, + sneaking, white-faced beast now, or I'll die myself!' after which heroic + resolve he flings himself, blood and tears, upon the waiting Foxy, and + this time with better result, for Foxy, waiting the attack with arms up + and eyes shut, finds himself pummeled all over the face, and after a few + moments of ineffectual resistance, turns, and in quite the Homeric way + seeks safety in flight, followed by the furious and vengeful Achilles, and + the jeering shouts of the bloodthirsty but disappointed rabble. + </p> + <p> + “As I have said, the mystery behind it remains unsolved, but Foxy's reign + is at an end, and with him goes the store, for which I am devoutly + thankful. + </p> + <p> + “I would my tale ended here with the downfall of Foxy, but, my dear Ned, I + have to record a sadder and more humiliating downfall than that—the + abject and utter collapse of my noble self. I have once more played the + fool, and played into the hands of the devil, mine own familiar and + well-beloved devil. + </p> + <p> + “The occasion I need not enlarge upon; it always waits. A long day's + skate, a late supper with some of the wilder and more reckless outcasts of + this steady-going community that frequent the back store, results in my + appearing at the manse door late at night, very unsteady of leg and + incoherent of speech. By a most unhappy chance, a most scurvy trick my + familiar devil played upon me, the door is opened by the minister's wife. + I can see her look of fear, horror, and loathing yet. It did more to pull + me together than a cold bath, so that I saved myself the humiliation of + speech and escaped to my room. + </p> + <p> + “And now, what do you think? Reproaches, objurgations, and final dismissal + on the part of the padre, tearful exhortations to repentance on the part + of his wife? Not a bit. If you believe me, sir, my unhappy misadventure + remains a secret with her. She told not a soul. Remarkably fine, I call + that. And what more, think you? A cold and haughty reserve, or a lofty + pity, with the fearful expectation of judgment? Not in the least. Only a + little added kindness, a deeper note to the frank, sympathetic interest + she has always shown, and that is all. My dear chap, I offered to leave, + but when she looked at me with those great hazel-brown eyes of hers and + said, 'Why should you go? Would it be better for you any place else?' I + found myself enjoying the luxury of an entirely new set of emotions, which + I shall not analyze to you. But I feel more confident than ever that I + shall either die early or end in being a saint. + </p> + <p> + “And now, do you know, she persists in ignoring that anything has taken + place, talks to me about her young men and her hopes for them, the work + she would do for them, and actually asks my assistance! It appears that + ever since their Great Revival, which is the beginning of days to them, + events being dated from before the Great Revival or after, some of these + young men have a desire to be ministers, or think they have. It is really + her desire, I suspect, for them. The difficulty is, preparation for + college. In this she asks my help. The enormous incongruity of the + situation does not appear to strike her, that I, the—too many + unutterable things—should be asked to prepare these young giants, + with their 'tremenjous' religious convictions, for the ministry; + nevertheless I yield myself to do anything and everything she lays upon + me. I repeat, I shall without doubt end in being a saint myself, and + should not be surprised to find myself with these 'tremenjous' young men + on the way to Holy Orders. Fancy the good Doctor's face! He would suspect + a lurking pleasantry in it all. + </p> + <p> + “This letter, I know, will render chaotic all your conceptions of me, and + in this chaos of mind I can heartily sympathize. What the next chapter + will be, God only knows! It depends upon how my familiar devil behaves + himself. Meantime, I am parleying with him, and with some anxiety as to + the result subscribe myself, + </p> + <p> + “Your friend, + </p> + <p> + “J. C.” <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FIRST ROUND + </h3> + <p> + The challenge from the Front was for the best two out of three, the first + game to be played the last day of the year. Steadily, under Craven's + coaching, the Twentieth team were perfected in their systematic play; for + although Craven knew nothing of shinny, he had captained the champion + lacrosse team of the province of Quebec, and the same general rules of + defense and attack could be applied with equal success to the game of + shinny. The team was greatly strengthened by the accession of Thomas Finch + and Don Cameron, both of whom took up the school again with a view to + college. With Thomas in goal, Hughie said he felt as if a big hole had + been filled up behind him. + </p> + <p> + The master caused a few preliminary skirmishes with neighboring teams to + be played by way of practice, and by the time the end of the year had + come, he felt confident that the team would not disgrace their school. His + confidence was not ill-founded. + </p> + <p> + “We have covered ourselves with glory,” he writes to his friend Ned + Maitland, “for we have whipped to a finish the arrogant and mighty Front. + I am more than ever convinced that I shall have to take a few days off and + get away to Montreal, or some other retired spot, to recover from the + excitement of the last week. + </p> + <p> + “Under my diligent coaching, in which, knowing nothing whatever of shinny, + I have striven to introduce something of the lacrosse method, our team got + into really decent fighting trim. Under the leadership of their captain, + who has succeeded in infusing his own fierce and furious temper into his + men, they played like little demons, from the drop of the ball till the + game was scored. 'Furious' is the word, for they and their captain play + with headlong fury, and that, I might say, is about their only defect, for + if they ever should run into a bigger team, who had any semblance of head + about them, and were not merely feet, they would surely come to grief. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot stay to recount our victory. Let it suffice that we were driven + down in two big sleigh-loads by Thomas Finch, the back wall of our + defense, and Don Cameron, who plays in the right of the forward line, both + great, strapping fellows, who are to be eventually, I believe, members of + my preparatory class. + </p> + <p> + “The Front came forth, cheerful, big, confident, trusting in the might of + their legs. We are told that the Lord taketh no pleasure in the legs of + man, and this is true in the game of shinny. Not legs alone, but heart and + head win, with anything like equal chances. + </p> + <p> + “Game called, 2:30; Captain Hughie has the drop; seizes the ball, passes + it to Fusie, who rushes, passes back to Hughie, who has arrived in the + vicinity of the enemy's goal, and shoots, swift and straight, a goal. + Time, 30 seconds. + </p> + <p> + “Again and again my little demons pierce the heavy, solid line of the + Front defense, and score, the enemy, big and bewildered, being chiefly + occupied in watching them do it. By six o'clock that evening I had them + safe at the manse in a condition of dazed jubilation, quite unable to + realize the magnificence of their achievement. They had driven twelve + miles down, played a two hours' game of shinny, score eight to two, and + were back safe and sound, bearing with them victory and some broken shins, + equally proud of both. + </p> + <p> + “There is a big supper at the manse, prepared, I believe, with the view of + consolation, but transformed into a feast of triumph, the minister being + enthusiastically jubilant over the achievement of his boys, his wife, if + possible, even more so. The heroes feed themselves to fullness, amazing + and complete, the minister holds a thanksgiving service, in which I have + no doubt my little demons most earnestly join, after which they depart to + shed the radiance of their glory throughout the section. + </p> + <p> + “And now I have to recount another experience of mine, quite unique and + altogether inexplicable. It appears that in this remarkable abode—I + would call it 'The Saint's Rest' were it not for the presence of others + than saints, and for the additional fact that there is little rest for the + saint who makes her dwelling here—in this abode there prevails the + quaint custom of watching the death of the old year and the birth of the + new. It is made the occasion of religious and heart-searching rite. As the + solemn hour of midnight draws on, a silence falls upon the family, all of + whom, with the exception of the newest infant, are present. It is the + family festival of the year. + </p> + <p> + “'And what will they be doing at your home, Mr. Craven?' inquires the + minister. The contrast that rose before my mind was vivid enough, for + having received my invitation to a big dance, I knew my sweet sisters + would be having a jolly wild time about that moment. My answer, given I + feel in a somewhat flippant tone, appears to shock my shinny captain of + the angelic face, who casts a honor-stricken glance at his mother, and + waits for the word of reproof that he thinks is due from the padre's lips. + </p> + <p> + “But before it falls the mother interposes with 'They will miss you + greatly this evening.' It was rather neatly done, and I think I + appreciated it. + </p> + <p> + “The rite proceeds. The initial ceremony is the repeating of a verse of + Scripture all round, and to save my life nothing comes to my mind but the + words, 'Remember Lot's wife.' As I cannot see the appropriateness of the + quotation, I pass. + </p> + <p> + “Five minutes before the stroke of twelve, they sing the Scottish + paraphrase beginning, 'O God of Bethel.' I do not suppose you ever heard + it, but it is a beautiful hymn, and singularly appropriate to the hour. In + this I lend assistance with my violin, the tune being the very familiar + one of 'Auld Lang Syne,' associated in my mind, however, with occasions + somewhat widely diverse from this. I assure you I am thankful that my part + is instrumental, for the whole business is getting onto my emotions in a + disturbing manner, and especially when I allow my eyes to linger for a + moment or two on the face of the lady, the center of the circle, who is + deliberately throwing away her fine culture and her altogether beautiful + soul upon the Anakim here, and with a beautiful unconsciousness of + anything like sacrifice, is now thanking God for the privilege of doing + so. I have some moments of rare emotional luxury, those moments that are + next to tears. + </p> + <p> + “Then the padre offers one of those heart-racking prayers of his that, + whether they reach anything outside or not, somehow get down into one's + vitals, and stir up remorses, and self-condemnings, and longings + unutterable. Then they all kiss the mother and wish her a Happy New-Year. + </p> + <p> + “My boy, my dear boy, I have never known deeper moments than those. And + when I went to shake hands with her, she seemed so like a queen receiving + homage, that without seeming to feel I was making a fool of myself, I did + the Queen Victoria act, and saluted her hand. It is wonderful how great + moments discover the lady to you. She must have known how I was feeling, + for with a very beautiful grace, she said, 'Let me be your mother for + to-night,' and by Jove, she kissed me. I have been kissed before, and have + kissed some women in my time, but that is the only kiss I can remember, + and s'help me Bob, I'll never kiss another till I kiss my wife. + </p> + <p> + “And then and there, Maitland, I swore by all that I knew of God, and by + everything sacred in life, that I'd quit the past and be worthy of her + trust; for the mischief of it is, she will persist in trusting you, puts + you on your honor noblesse oblige business, and all that. I think I told + you that I might end in being a saint. That dream I have surrendered, but, + by the grace of heaven, I'm going to try to be a man. And I am going to + play shinny with those boys, and if I can help them to win that match, and + the big game of life, I will do it. + </p> + <p> + “As witness my hand and seal, this first day of January, 18— + </p> + <p> + “J. C.” <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE FINAL ROUND + </h3> + <p> + After the New-Year the school filled up with big boys, some of whom had + returned with the idea of joining the preparatory class for college, which + the minister had persuaded John Craven to organize. + </p> + <p> + Shinny, however, became the absorbing interest for all the boys, both big + and little. This interest was intensified by the rumors that came up from + the Front, for it was noised through the Twentieth section that Dan Munro, + whose father was a cousin of Archie Munro, the former teacher, had come + from Marrintown and taken charge of the Front school, and that, being used + to the ice game, and being full of tricks and swift as a bird, he was an + exceedingly dangerous man. More than that, he was training his team with + his own tricks, and had got back to school some of the old players, among + whom were no less renowned personages than Hec Ross and Jimmie “Ben.” + Jimmie Ben, to wit, James son of Benjamin McEwen, was more famed for his + prowess as a fighter than for his knowledge of the game of shinny, but + every one who saw him play said he was “a terror.” Further, it was rumored + that there was a chance of them getting for goal Farquhar McRae, “Little + Farquhar,” or “Farquhar Bheg” (pronounced “vaick”), as he was euphoniously + called, who presumably had once been little, but could no longer claim to + be so, seeing that he was six feet, and weighed two hundred pounds. + </p> + <p> + It behooved the Twentieth team, therefore, to bestir themselves with all + diligence, and in this matter Hughie gave no rest either to himself or to + any one else likely to be of use in perfecting his team. For Hughie had + been unanimously chosen captain, in spite of his protests that the master + or one of the big boys should hold that place. But none of the big boys + knew the new game as perfectly as Hughie, and the master had absolutely + refused, saying, “You beat them once, Hughie, and you can do it again.” + And as the days and weeks went on, Hughie fully justified the team's + choice of him as captain. He developed a genius for organization, a + sureness of judgment, and a tact in management, as well as a skill and + speed in play, that won the confidence of every member of his team. He set + himself resolutely to banish any remaining relics of the ancient style of + play. In the old game every one rushed to hit the ball without regard to + direction or distance, and the consequence was, that from end to end of + the field a mob of yelling, stick-waving players more or less aimlessly + followed in the wake of the ball. But Hughie and the master changed all + that, forced the men to play in their positions, training them never to + drive wildly forward, but to pass to a man, and to keep their clubs down + and their mouths shut. + </p> + <p> + The striking characteristic of Hughie's own playing was a certain + fierceness, amounting almost to fury, so that when he was in the attack he + played for every ounce there was in him. His chief weakness lay in his + tempestuous temper, which he found difficult to command, but as he worked + his men from day to day, and week to week, the responsibility of his + position and the magnitude of the issues at stake helped him to a + self-control quite remarkable in him. + </p> + <p> + As the fateful day drew near the whole section was stirred with an intense + interest and excitement, in which even the grave and solemn elders shared, + and to a greater degree, the minister and his wife. + </p> + <p> + At length the day, as all days great and small, actually arrived. A big + crowd awaited the appearance of “the folks from the Front.” They were + expected about two, but it was not till half-past that there was heard in + the distance the sound of the bagpipes. + </p> + <p> + “Here they are! That's Alan the cooper's pipes,” was the cry, and before + long, sure enough there appeared Alphonse le Roque driving his + French-Canadian team, the joy and pride of his heart, for Alphonse was a + born horse-trainer, and had taught his French-Canadians many extraordinary + tricks. On the dead gallop he approached the crowd till within a few + yards, when, at a sudden command, they threw themselves upon their + haunches, and came almost to a standstill. With a crack of his long whip + Alphonse gave the command, “Deesplay yousef!” At once his stout little + team began to toss their beautiful heads, and broke into a series of + prancing curves that would not have shamed a pair of greyhounds. Then, as + they drew up to the stopping-point, he gathered up his lines, and with + another crack of his whip, cried, “Salute ze ladies!” when, with true + equine courtesy, they rose upon their hind legs and gracefully pawed the + empty air. Finally, after depositing his load amid the admiring + exclamations of the crowd, he touched their tails with the point of his + whip, gave a sudden “Whish!” and like hounds from the leash his horses + sprang off at full gallop. + </p> + <p> + One after another the teams from the Front swung round and emptied their + loads. + </p> + <p> + “Man! what a crowd!” said Hughie to Don. “There must be a hundred at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there's Hec Ross and Jimmie Ben,” said Don, “and sure enough, + Farquhar Begh. We'll be catching it to-day, whatever,” continued Don, + cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! we licked as big men before. It isn't size,” said Hughie, with far + more confidence than he felt. + </p> + <p> + It was half an hour before the players were ready to begin. The rules of + the game were few and simple. The play was to be one hour each way, with a + quarter of an hour rest between. There was to be no tripping, no hitting + on the shins when the ball was out of the scrimmage, and all disputes were + to be settled by the umpire, who on this occasion was the master of the + Sixteenth school. + </p> + <p> + “He's no good,” grumbled Hughie to his mother, who was even more excited + than her boy himself. “He can't play himself, and he's too easy scared.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said his mother, brightly; “perhaps he won't have much to + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Much to do! Well, there's Jimmie Ben, and he's an awful fighter, but I'm + not going to let him frighten me,” said Hughie, savagely; “and there's Dan + Munro, too, they say he's a terror, and Hec Ross. Of course we've got just + as good men, but they won't fight. Why, Johnnie 'Big Duncan' and Don, + there, are as good as any of them, but they won't fight.” + </p> + <p> + The mother smiled a little. + </p> + <p> + “What a pity! But why should they fight? Fighting is not shinny.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that's what the master says. And he's right enough, too, but it's + awful hard when a fellow doesn't play fair, when he trips you up or clubs + you on the shins when you're not near the ball. You feel like hitting him + back.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that's the very time to show self-control.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. And that's what the master says.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is,” went on his mother. “That's what the game is for, to + teach the boys to command their tempers. You remember 'he that ruleth his + spirit is better than he that taketh a city.' + </p> + <p> + “O, it's all right,” said Hughie, “and easy enough to talk about.” + </p> + <p> + “What's easy enough to talk about?” asked the master, coming up. + </p> + <p> + “Taking a city,” said Mrs. Murray, smiling at him. + </p> + <p> + The master looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Mother means,” said Hughie, “keeping one's temper in shinny. But I'm + telling her it's pretty hard when a fellow clubs you on the shins when + you're away from the ball.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course it's hard,” said the master, “but it's better than being a + cad,” which brought a quick flush to Hughie's face, but helped him more + than anything else to keep himself in hand that day. + </p> + <p> + “Can't understand a man,” said the master, “who goes into a game and then + quits it to fight. If it's fighting, why fight, but if it's shinny, play + the game. Big team against us, eh, captain?” he continued, looking at the + Front men, who were taking a preliminary spin upon the ice, “and pretty + swift, too.” + </p> + <p> + “If they play fair, I don't mind,” said Hughie. “I'm not afraid of them; + but if they get slugging—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if they get slugging,” said the master, “we'll play the game and + win, sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's time to begin,” said Hughie, and with a good by to his mother + he turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Remember, take a city,” she called out after him. + </p> + <p> + “All right, muzzie, I'll remember.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments the teams were in position opposite each other. The team + from the Front made a formidable show in weight and muscle. At the right + of the forward line stood the redoubtable Dan Munro, the stocky, tricky, + fierce captain of the Front team, and with him three rather small boys in + red shirts. The defense consisted of Hec Ross, the much-famed and + much-feared Jimmie Ben, while in goal, sure enough, stood the immense and + solid bulk of Farquhar Bheg. The center was held by four boys of fair size + and weight. + </p> + <p> + In the Twentieth team the forward line was composed of Jack Ross, Curly + Ross's brother, Fusie, Davie Scotch, and Don Cameron. The center was + played by Hughie, with three little chaps who made up for their lack of + weight by their speed and skill. The defense consisted of Johnnie “Big + Duncan,” to wit, John, the son of Big Duncan Campbell, on the left hand, + and the master on the right, backed up by Thomas Finch in goal, who much + against his will was in the game that day. His heart was heavy within him, + for he saw, not the gleaming ice and the crowding players, but “the room” + at home, and his mother, with her pale, patient face, sitting in her + chair. His father, he knew, would be beside her, and Jessac would be + flitting about. “But for all that, she'll have a long day,” he said to + himself, for only his loyalty to the school and to Hughie had brought him + to the game that day. + </p> + <p> + When play was called, Hughie, with Fusie immediately behind him, stood + facing Dan in the center with one of the little Red Shirts at his back. It + was Dan's drop. He made a pass or two, then shot between his legs to a Red + Shirt, who, upon receiving, passed far out to Red Shirt number three, who + flew along the outer edge and returned swiftly to Dan, now far up the + other side. Like the wind Dan sped down the line, dodged Johnnie Big + Duncan easily, and shot from the corner, straight, swift, and true, a + goal. + </p> + <p> + “One for the Front!” Eleven shinny-sticks went up in the air, the bagpipes + struck up a wild refrain, big Hec Ross and Jimmie Ben danced a huge, + unwieldy, but altogether jubilant dance round each other, and then settled + down to their places, for it was Hughie's drop. + </p> + <p> + Hughie took the ball from the umpire and faced Dan with some degree of + nervousness, for Dan was heavy and strong, and full of confidence. After a + little manoeuvering he dropped the ball between Dan's legs, but Dan, + instead of attending to the ball, charged full upon him and laid him flat, + while one of the Red Shirts, seizing the ball, flew off with it, supported + by a friendly Red Shirt on either side of him, with Dan following hard. + </p> + <p> + Right through the crowd dodged the Red Shirts till they came up to the + Twentieth line of defense, when forth came Johnnie Big Duncan in swift + attack. But the little Red Shirt who had the ball, touching it slightly to + the right, tangled himself up in Johnnie Big Duncan's legs and sent him + sprawling, while Dan swiped the ball to another Red Shirt who had slipped + in behind the master, for there was no such foolishness as off-side in + that game. Like lightning the Red Shirt caught the ball, and rushing at + Thomas, shot furiously at close quarters. Goal number two for the Front! + </p> + <p> + Again on all sides rose frantic cheers. “The Front! The Front! Murro + forever!” Two games had been won, and not a Twentieth man had touched the + ball. With furtive, uncertain glances the men of the Twentieth team looked + one at the other, and all at their captain, as if seeking explanation of + this extraordinary situation. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Hughie, in a loud voice, to the master, and with a careless + laugh, though at his heart he was desperate, “they are giving us a little + taste of our own medicine.” + </p> + <p> + The master dropped to buckle his skate, deliberately unwinding the strap, + while the umpire allowed time. + </p> + <p> + “Give me a hand with this, Hughie,” he called, and Hughie skated up to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Craven, smiling up into Hughie's face, “that's a good, swift + opening, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's terrible,” groaned Hughie. “They're going to lick us off the + ice.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied the master, slowly, “I wouldn't be in a hurry to say so. + We have a hundred minutes and more to win in yet. Now, don't you see that + their captain is their great card. Suppose you let the ball go for a game + or two, and stick to Dan. Trail him, never let him shake you. The rest of + us will take care of the game.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Hughie, “I'll stick to him,” and off he set for the + center. + </p> + <p> + As the loser, Hughie again held the drop. He faced Dan with determination + to get that ball out to Fusie, and somehow he felt in his bones that he + should succeed in doing this. Without any preliminary he dropped, and + knocked the ball toward Fusie. + </p> + <p> + But this was evidently what Dan expected, for as soon as Hughie made the + motion to drop he charged hard upon the waiting Fusie. Hughie, however, + had his plan as well, for immediately upon the ball leaving his stick, he + threw himself in Dan's way, checking him effectually, and allowing Fusie, + with Don and Scotchie following, to get away. + </p> + <p> + The Front defense, however, was too strong, and the ball came shooting + back toward the line of Reds, one of whom, making a short run, passed far + out to Dan on the right. But before the latter could get up speed, Hughie + was upon him, and ignoring the ball, blocked and bothered and checked him, + till one of the Twentieth centers, rushing in, secured it for his side. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! well done, captain!” came Craven's voice across the ice, and Hughie + felt his nerve come back. If he could hold Dan, that deadly Front + combination might be broken. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Don had secured the ball from Craven, and was rushing up his + right wing. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are, Hughie,” he cried, shooting across the Front goal. + </p> + <p> + Hughie sprang to receive, but before he could shoot Dan was upon him, + checking so hard that Hughie was sent sprawling to the ice, while Dan shot + away with the ball. + </p> + <p> + But before he had gone very far Hughie was after him like a whirlwind, + making straight for his own goal, so that by the time Dan had arrived at + shooting distance, Hughie was again upon him, and while in the very act of + steadying himself for his try at the goal, came crashing into him with + such fierceness of attack that Dan was flung aside, while Johnnie Big + Duncan, capturing the ball, sent it across to the master. + </p> + <p> + It was the master's first chance for the day. With amazing swiftness and + dexterity he threaded the outer edge of the ice, and with a sudden swerve + across, avoided the throng that had gathered to oppose him, and then with + a careless ease, as if it were a matter of little importance, he dodged in + between the heavy Front defense, shot his goal, and skated back coolly to + his place. + </p> + <p> + The Twentieth's moment had come, and both upon the ice and upon the banks + the volume and fierceness of the cheering testified to the intensity of + the feeling that had been so long pent up. + </p> + <p> + That game had revealed to Hughie two important facts: the first, that he + was faster than Dan in a straight race; and the second, that it would be + advisable to feed the master, for it was clearly apparent that there was + not his equal upon the ice in dodging. + </p> + <p> + “That was well done, captain,” said Craven to Hughie, as he was coolly + skating back to his position. + </p> + <p> + “A splendid run, sir,” cried Hughie, in return. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the run was easy. It was your check there that did the trick. That's + the game,” he continued, lowering his voice. “It's hard on you, though. + Can you stand it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can try for a while,” said Hughie, confidently. + </p> + <p> + “If you can,” said the master, “we've got them,” and Hughie settled down + into the resolve that, cost what it might, he would stick like a leech to + Dan. + </p> + <p> + He imparted his plan to Fusie, adding, “Now, whenever you see me tackle + Dan, run in and get the ball. I'm not going to bother about it.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour had gone. The score stood two to one in favor of the Front, + but the result every one felt to be still uncertain. That last attack of + Hughie's, and the master's speedy performance, gave some concern to the + men of the Front, and awakened a feeling of confidence in the Twentieth + team. + </p> + <p> + But Dan, wise general that he was, saw the danger, and gave his commands + ere he faced off for the new game. + </p> + <p> + “When that man Craven gets it,” he said to the men of the center, “make + straight for the goal. Never mind the ball.” + </p> + <p> + The wisdom of this order became at once evident, for when in the face-off + he secured the ball, Hughie clung so tenaciously to his heels and checked + him so effectually, that he was forced to resign it to the Reds, who + piercing the Twentieth center, managed to scurry up the ice with the ball + between them. But when, met by Craven and Johnnie Big Duncan, they passed + across to Dan, Hughie again checked so fiercely that Johnnie Big Duncan + secured the ball, passed back to the master, who with another meteoric + flash along the edge of the field broke through the Front's defense, and + again shot. + </p> + <p> + It was only Farquhar Bheg's steady coolness that saved the goal. It was a + near enough thing, however, to strike a sudden chill to the heart of the + Front goal-keeper, and to make Dan realize that something must be done to + check these dangerous rushes of Craven. + </p> + <p> + “Get in behind the defense there, and stay there,” he said to two of his + centers, and his tone indicated that his serene confidence in himself and + his team was slightly shaken. Hughie's close checking was beginning to + chafe him, for his team in their practice had learned to depend unduly + upon him. + </p> + <p> + Noticing Dan's change in the disposition of his men, Hughie moved up two + of his centers nearer to the Front defense. + </p> + <p> + “Get into their way,” he said “and give the master a clear field.” + </p> + <p> + But this policy only assisted Dan's plan of defense, for the presence of + so many players before the Front goal filled up the ice to such an extent + that Craven's rushes were impeded by mere numbers. + </p> + <p> + For some time Dan watched the result of his tactics well satisfied, + remaining himself for the time in the background. During one of the + pauses, when the ball was out of play, he called one of the little Reds to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “you watch this. Right after one of those rushes of + Craven's, don't follow him down, but keep up to your position. I'll get + the ball to you somehow, and then you'll have a chance to shoot. No use + passing to me, for this little son of a gun is on my back like a flea on a + dog.” Dan was seriously annoyed. + </p> + <p> + The little Red passed the word around and patiently waited his chance. + Once and again the plan failed, chiefly because Dan could not get the ball + out of the scrimmage, but at length, when Hughie had been tempted to rush + in with the hope of putting in a shot, the ball slid out of the scrimmage, + and Dan, swooping down upon it, passed swiftly to the waiting Red who + immediately shot far out to his alert wing, and then rushing down the + center and slipping past Johnnie Big Duncan, who had gone forth to meet + Dan coming down the right, and the master who was attending to the little + Red on the wing, received the ball, and putting in a short, swift shot, + scored another goal for the Front, amid a tempest of hurrahings from the + team and their supporters. + </p> + <p> + The game now stood three to one in favor of the Front, and up to the end + of the first hour no change was made in this score. + </p> + <p> + And now there was a scene of the wildest enthusiasm and confusion. The + Front people flocked upon the ice and carried off their team to their + quarter of the shanty, loading them with congratulations and refreshing + them with various drinks. + </p> + <p> + “Better get your men together, captain,” suggested Craven, and Hughie + gathered them into the Twentieth corner of the shanty. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the adverse score Hughie found his team full of fight. They + crowded about him and the master, eager to listen to any explanation of + the present defeat that might be offered for their comfort, or to any + plans by which the defeat might be turned into victory. Some minutes they + spent in excitedly discussing the various games, and in good-naturedly + chaffing Thomas Finch for his failure to prevent a score. But Thomas had + nothing to say in reply. He had done his best, and he had a feeling that + they all knew it. No man was held in higher esteem by the team than the + goal-keeper. + </p> + <p> + “Any plan, captain?” asked the master, after they had talked for some + minutes, and all grew quiet. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, sir?” said Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “O, let us hear from you. You're the captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Hughie, slowly, and with deliberate emphasis, “I think we are + going to win.” (Yells from all sides.) “At any rate we ought to win, for I + think we have the better team.” (More yells.) “What I mean is this, I + think we are better in combination play, and I don't think they have a man + who can touch the master.” + </p> + <p> + Enthusiastic exclamations, “That's right!” “Better believe it!” “Horo!” + </p> + <p> + “But we have a big fight before us. And that Dan Munro's a terror. The + only change I can think of is to open out more and fall back from their + goal for a little while. And then, if I can hold Dan—” + </p> + <p> + Cries of “You'll hold him all right!” “You are the lad!” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody should feed the master. They can't stop him, any of them. But I + would say for the first while, anyway, play defense. What do you think, + sir?” appealing to the master. + </p> + <p> + “I call that good tactics. But don't depend too much upon me; if any man + has a chance for a run and a shot, let him take it. And don't give up your + combination in your forward line. The captain is quite right in seeking to + draw them away from their goal. Their defense territory is too full now. + Now, what I have noticed is this, they mainly rely upon Dan Munro and upon + their three big defense men. For the first fifteen minutes they will make + their hardest push. Let us take the captain's advice, fall back a little, + and so empty their defense. But on the whole, keep your positions, play to + your men, and,” he added, with a smile, “don't get too mad.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess they will be making some plans, too,” said Thomas Finch, slowly, + and everybody laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That's quite right, Thomas, but we'll give them a chance for the first + while to show us what they mean to do.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the minister came in, looking rather gloomy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Craven, rather doubtful outlook, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “O, not too bad, sir,” said the master, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “Three to one. What worse do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, six to one would be worse,” replied the master. “Besides, their + first two games were taken by a kind of fluke. We didn't know their play. + You will notice they have taken only one in the last three-quarters of an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt they are too big for you,” continued the minister. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't altogether size that wins in shinny,” said Mr. Craven. “Hughie + there isn't a very big man, but he can hold any one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope you may be right,” said the minister. “I am sorry I have to + leave the game to see a sick man up Kenyon way.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry you can't stay, sir, to see us win,” said Craven, cheerfully, while + Hughie slipped out to see his mother before she went. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy,” said his mother, “you are playing a splendid game, and you + are getting better as you go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, mother. That's the kind of talk we like,” said Hughie, who had + been a little depressed by his father's rather gloomy views. “I'm awfully + sorry you can't stay.” + </p> + <p> + “And so am I, but we must go. But we shall be back in time for supper, and + you will ask all the team to come down to celebrate their victory.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for you, mother! I'll tell them, and I bet they'll play.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime the team from the Front had been having something of a + jollification in their quarters. They were sure of victory, and in spite + of their captain's remonstrances had already begun to pass round the + bottle in the way of celebration. + </p> + <p> + “They're having something strong in there,” said little Mac McGregor. + “Wish they'd pass some this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them have it,” said Johnnie Big Duncan, whose whole family ever since + the revival had taken a total abstinence pledge, although this was looked + upon as a very extreme position indeed, by almost all the community. But + Big Duncan Campbell had learned by very bitter experience that for him, at + least, there was no safety in a moderate use of “God's good creature,” as + many of his fellow church-members designated the “mountain dew,” and his + sons had loyally backed him up in this attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Quite, right!” said the master, emphatically. “And if they had any sense + they would know that with every drink they are throwing away a big chance + of winning.” + </p> + <p> + “Horo, you fellows!” shouted big Hec Ross across to them, “aren't you + going to play any more? Have you got enough of it already?” + </p> + <p> + “We will not be caring for any more of yon kind,” said Johnnie Big Duncan, + good-naturedly, “and we were thinking of giving you a change.” + </p> + <p> + “Come away and be at it, then,” said Hec, “for we're all getting cold.” + </p> + <p> + “That's easily cured,” said Dan, as they sallied forth to the ice again, + “for I warrant you will not be suffering from the cold in five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + When the teams took up their positions, it was discovered that Dan had + fallen back to the center, and Hughie was at a loss to know how to meet + this new disposition of the enemy's force. + </p> + <p> + “Let them go on,” said the master, with whom Hughie was holding a hurried + consultation. “You stick to him, and we'll play defense till they develop + their plan.” + </p> + <p> + The tactics of the Front became immediately apparent upon the drop of the + ball, and proved to be what the master had foretold. No sooner had the + game begun than the big defense men advanced with the centers to the + attack, and when Hughie followed up his plan of sticking closely to Dan + Munro and hampering him, he found Jimmie Ben upon him, swiping furiously + with his club at his shins, with evident intention of intimidating him, as + well as of relieving Dan from his attentions. But if Jimmie Ben thought by + his noisy shouting and furious swiping to strike terror to the heart of + the Twentieth captain, he entirely misjudged his man; for without seeking + to give him back what he received in kind, Hughie played his game with + such skill and pluck, that although he was considerably battered about the + shins, he was nevertheless able to prevent Dan from making any of his + dangerous rushes. + </p> + <p> + Craven, meantime, if he noticed Hughie's hard case, was so fully occupied + with the defense of the goal that he could give no thought to anything + else. Shot after shot came in upon Thomas at close range, and so savage + and reckless was the charge of the Front that their big defense men, Hec + Ross and Jimmie Ben, abandoning their own positions, were foremost in the + melee before the Twentieth goal. + </p> + <p> + For fully fifteen minutes the ball was kept in the Twentieth territory, + and only the steady coolness of Craven and Johnnie Big Duncan, backed by + Hughie's persistent checking of the Front captain and the magnificent + steadiness of Thomas in goal, saved the game. + </p> + <p> + At length, as the fury of the charge began to expend itself a little, + Craven got his chance. The ball had been passed out to Dan upon the left + wing of the Front forward line. At once Hughie was upon him, but Jimmie + Ben following hard, with a cruel swipe at Hughie's skates, laid him flat, + but not until he had succeeded in hindering to some degree Dan's escape + with the ball. Before the Front captain could make use of his advantage + and get clear away, the master bore down upon him like a whirlwind, hurled + him clear off his feet, secured the ball, dashed up the open field, and + eluding the two centers, who had been instructed to cover the goal, easily + shot between the balsam-trees. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments the Twentieth men went mad, for they all felt that a + crisis had been passed. The failure of the Front in what had evidently + been a preconcerted and very general attack was accepted as an omen of + victory. + </p> + <p> + The Front men, on the other hand, were bitterly chagrined. They had come + so near it, and yet had failed. Jimmie Ben was especially savage. He came + down the ice toward the center, yelling defiance and threats of vengeance. + “Come on here! Don't waste time. Let us at them. We'll knock them clear + off the ice.” + </p> + <p> + It was Dan's drop. As he was preparing to face off, the master skated up + and asked the umpire for time. At once the crowd gathered round. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” “What's up?” “What do you want?” came on all sides + from the Front team, now thoroughly aroused and thirsting for vengeance. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Umpire,” said the master, “I want to call your attention to a bit of + foul play that must not be allowed to go on”; and then he described Jimmie + Ben's furious attack upon Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “It was a deliberate trip, as well as a savage swipe at a man's shins when + the ball was not near.” + </p> + <p> + At once Jimmie Ben gave him the lie, and throwing down his club, slammed + his cap upon the ice and proceeded to execute a war-dance about it. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments there was a great uproar, and then the master's voice + was heard again addressing the umpire. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know your ruling upon this, Mr. Umpire”; and somehow his voice + commanded a perfect stillness. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the umpire, hesitating, “of course—if a man trips it is + foul play, but—I did not see any tripping. And of course—swiping + at a man's shins is not allowed, although sometimes—it can't very + well be helped in a scrimmage.” + </p> + <p> + “I merely want to call your attention to it,” said the master. “My + understanding of our arrangements, Mr. Munro,” he said, addressing the + Front captain, “is that we are here to play shinny. You have come up here, + I believe, to win the game by playing shinny, and we are here to prevent + you. If you have any other purpose, or if any of your men have any other + purpose, we would be glad to know it now, for we entered this game with + the intention of playing straight, clean shinny.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right!” called out Hec Ross; “that's what we're here for.” And his + answer was echoed on every side, except by Jimmie Ben, who continued to + bluster and offer fight. + </p> + <p> + “O, shut your gab!” finally said Farquhar Bheg, impatiently. “If you want + to fight, wait till after the game is done.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's your cap, Jimmie,” piped a thin, little voice. “You'll take cold + in your head.” It was little French Fusie, holding up Jimmie's cap on the + end of his shinny club, and smiling with the utmost good nature, but with + infinite impudence, into Jimmie's face. + </p> + <p> + At once there was a general laugh at Jimmie Ben's expense, who with a + growl, seized his cap, and putting it on his head, skated off to his + place. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Hughie, calling his men together for a moment, “let us crowd + them hard, and let's give the master every chance we can.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the master, “they are waiting for me. Suppose you leave Dan to + me for a while. You go up and play your forward combination. They are not + paying so much attention to you. Make the attack from your wing.” + </p> + <p> + At the drop Dan secured the ball, and followed by Fusie, flew up the + center with one of the Reds on either hand. Immediately the master crossed + to meet him, checked him hard, and gave Fusie a chance, who, seizing the + ball, passed far up to Hughie on the right. + </p> + <p> + Immediately the Twentieth forward line rushed, and by a beautiful hit of + combined play, brought the ball directly before the Front goal, when Don, + holding it for a moment till Hughie charged in upon Farquhar Bheg, shot, + and scored. + </p> + <p> + The result of their combination at once inspired the Twentieth team with + fresh confidence, and proved most disconcerting to their opponents. + </p> + <p> + “That's the game, boys,” said the master, delightedly. “Keep your heads, + and play your positions.” And so well did the forward line respond that + for the next ten minutes the game was reduced to a series of attacks upon + the Front goal, and had it not been for the dashing play of their captain + and the heavy checking of the Front defense, the result would have been + most disastrous to them. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the Twentieth supporters, lined along either edge, became more + and more vociferous as they began to see that their men were getting the + game well into their own hands. That steady, cool, systematic play of man + to man was something quite new to those accustomed to the old style of + game, and aroused the greatest enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the Front were forced to fall back into their territory, and to + play upon the defensive, while the master and Johnnie Big Duncan, moving + up toward the center, kept their forward line so strongly supported, and + checked so effectually any attempts to break through, that thick and fast + the shots fell upon the enemy's goal. + </p> + <p> + There remained only fifteen minutes to play. The hard pace was beginning + to tell upon the big men, and the inevitable reaction following their + unwise “celebrating” began to show itself in their stale and spiritless + play. On the other hand, the Twentieth were as fresh as ever, and pressed + the game with greater spirit every moment. + </p> + <p> + “Play out toward the side,” urged Dan, despairing of victory, but + determined to avert defeat, and at every opportunity the ball was knocked + out of play. But like wolves the Twentieth forwards were upon the ball, + striving to keep it in play, and steadily forcing it toward the enemy's + goal. + </p> + <p> + Dan became desperate. He was wet with perspiration, and his breath was + coming in hard gasps. He looked at his team. The little Reds were fit + enough, but the others were jaded and pumped out. Behind him stood Jimmie + Ben, savage, wet, and weary. + </p> + <p> + At one of the pauses, when the ball was out of play, Dan dropped on his + knee. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on there a minute,” he cried; “I want to fix this skate of mine.” + </p> + <p> + Very deliberately he removed his strap, readjusted his skate, and began + slowly to set the strap in place again. + </p> + <p> + “They want a rest, I guess. Better take off the time, umpire,” sang out + Fusie, dancing as lively as a cricket round Jimmie Ben, who looked as if + he would like to devour him bodily. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Fusie!” said Hughie. “We've got all the time we need.” + </p> + <p> + “You have, eh?” said Jimmie Ben, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Hughie, in sudden anger, for he had not forgotten Jimmie Ben's + cruel swipe. “We don't need any more time than we've got, and we don't + need to play any dirty tricks, either. We're going to beat you. We've got + you beaten now.” + </p> + <p> + “Blank your impudent face! Wait you! I'll show you!” said Jimmie Ben. + </p> + <p> + “You can't scare me, Jimmie Ben,” said Hughie, white with rage. “You tried + your best and you couldn't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Play the game, Hughie,” said the master, in a low tone, skating round + him, while Hec Ross said, good-naturedly, “Shut up Jimmie Ben. You'll need + all your wind for your heels,” at which all but Jimmie Ben laughed. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Dan drew his men together. + </p> + <p> + “Our only chance,” he said, “is in a rush. Now, I want every man to make + for that goal. Never mind the ball. I'll get the ball there. And then you, + Jimmie Ben, and a couple of you centers, make right back here on guard.” + </p> + <p> + “They're going to rush,” said Hughie to his team. “Don't all go back. + Centers fall back with me. You forwards keep up.” + </p> + <p> + At the drop Dan secured the ball, and in a moment the Front rush came. + With a simultaneous yell the whole ten men came roaring down the ice, + waving their clubs and flinging aside their lightweight opponents. It was + a dangerous moment, but with a cry of “All steady, boys!” Hughie threw + himself right into Dan's way. But just for such a chance Jimmie Ben was + watching, and rushing upon Hughie, caught him fairly with his shoulder and + hurled him to the ice, while the attacking line swept over him. + </p> + <p> + For a single moment Hughie lay dazed, but before any one could offer help + he rose slowly, and after a few deep breaths, set off for the scrimmage. + </p> + <p> + There was a wild five minutes. Eighteen or twenty men were massed in front + of the Twentieth goal, striking, shoving, yelling, the solid weight of the + Front defense forcing the ball ever nearer the goal. In the center of the + mass were Craven, Johnnie Big Duncan, and Don fighting every inch. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments Hughie hovered behind his goal, his heart full of black + rage, waiting his chance. At length he saw an opening. Jimmie Ben, + slashing heavily, regardless of injury to himself or any others, had edged + the ball toward the Twentieth left. Taking a short run, Hughie, reckless + of consequences, launched himself head first into Jimmie Ben's stomach, + swiping viciously at the same time at the ball. For a moment Jimmie Ben + was flung back, and but for Johnnie Big Duncan would have fallen, but + before he could regain his feet, the ball was set free of the scrimmage + and away. Fusie, rushing in, had snapped it up and had gone scuttling down + the ice, followed by Hughie and the master. + </p> + <p> + Before Fusie had got much past center, Dan, who had been playing in the + rear of the scrimmage, overtook him, and with a fierce body check upset + the little Frenchman and secured the ball. Wheeling, he saw both Hughie + and Craven bearing down swiftly upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Rush for the goal!” he shouted to Jimmie Ben, who was following Hughie + hard. Jimmie Ben hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Back to your defense!” yelled Dan, cutting across and trying to escape + between Hughie and Craven. + </p> + <p> + It was in vain. Both of the Twentieth men fell upon him, and the master, + snatching the ball, sped like lightning down the ice. + </p> + <p> + The crowd went wild. + </p> + <p> + “Get back! Get back there!” screamed Hughie to the mob crowding in upon + the ice. “Give us room! Give us a show!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Craven, cornered by Hec Ross and two of the Red Shirts, + with Dan hard upon his heels, passed clear across the ice to Hughie. With + a swift turn Hughie caught the ball, dodged Jimmie Ben's fierce spring at + him, and shot. But even as he shot, Jimmie Ben, recovering his balance, + reached him and struck a hard, swinging blow upon his ankle. There was a + sharp crack, and Hughie fell to the ice. The ball went wide. + </p> + <p> + “Time, there, umpire!” cried the master, falling on his knees beside + Hughie. “Are you hurt, Hughie?” he asked, eagerly. “What is it, my boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, master, it's broken, but don't stop. Don't let them stop. We must win + this game. We've only a few minutes. Take me back to goal and send Thomas + out.” + </p> + <p> + The eager, hurried whisper, the intense appeal in the white face and dark + eyes, made the master hesitate in his emphatic refusal. + </p> + <p> + “You can't—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't stop! Don't stop it for me,” cried Hughie, gripping the + master's arm. “Help me up and take me back.” + </p> + <p> + The master swore a fierce oath. + </p> + <p> + “We'll do it, my boy. You're a trump. Here, Don,” he called aloud, “we'll + let Hughie keep goal for a little,” and they ran Hughie back to the goal + on one skate. + </p> + <p> + “You go out, Thomas,” gasped Hughie. “Don't talk. We've only five + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “They have broken his leg,” said the master, with a sob in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wrong, I hope,” said Dan, skating up. + </p> + <p> + “No; play the game,” said the master, fiercely. His black eyes were + burning with a deep, red glow. + </p> + <p> + “Is it hurting much?” asked Thomas, lingering about Hughie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you just bet! But don't wait. Go on! Go on down! You've got to get + this game!” + </p> + <p> + Thomas glanced at the foot hanging limp, and then at the white but + resolute face. Then saying with slow, savage emphasis, “The brute beast! + As sure as death I'll do for him,” he skated off to join the forward line. + </p> + <p> + It was the Front knock-off from goal. There was no plan of attack, but the + Twentieth team, looking upon the faces of the master and Thomas, needed no + words of command. + </p> + <p> + The final round was shot, short, sharp, fierce. A long drive from Farquhar + Bheg sent the ball far up into the Twentieth territory. It was a bad play, + for it gave Craven and Thomas their chance. + </p> + <p> + “Follow me close, Thomas,” cried the master, meeting the ball and setting + off like a whirlwind. + </p> + <p> + Past the little Reds, through the centers, and into the defense line he + flashed, followed hard by Thomas. In vain Hec Ross tried to check, Craven + was past him like the wind. There remained only Dan and Jimmie Ben. A few + swift strides, and the master was almost within reach of Dan's club. With + a touch of the ball to Thomas he charged into his waiting foe, flung him + aside as he might a child, and swept on. + </p> + <p> + “Take the man, Thomas,” he cried, and Thomas, gathering himself up in two + short, quick strikes, dashed hard upon Jimmie Ben, and hurled him crashing + to the ice. + </p> + <p> + “Take that, you brute, you!” he said, and followed after Craven. + </p> + <p> + Only Farquhar Bheg was left. + </p> + <p> + “Take no chances,” cried Craven again. “Come on!” and both of them + sweeping in upon the goal-keeper, lifted him clear through the goal and + carried the ball with them. + </p> + <p> + “Time!” called the umpire. The great game was won. + </p> + <p> + Then, before the crowd had realized what had happened, and before they + could pour in upon the ice, Craven skated back toward Jimmie Ben. + </p> + <p> + “The game is over,” he said, in a low, fierce tone. “You cowardly + blackguard, you weren't afraid to hit a boy, now stand up to a man, if you + dare.” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie Ben was no coward. Dropping his club he came eagerly forward, but + no sooner had he got well ready than Craven struck him fair in the face, + and before he could fall, caught him with a straight, swift blow on the + chin, and lifting him clear off his skates, landed him back on his head + and shoulders on the ice, where he lay with his toes quivering. + </p> + <p> + “Serve him right,” said Hec Ross. + </p> + <p> + There was no more of it. The Twentieth crowds went wild with joy and rage, + for their great game was won, and the news of what had befallen their + captain had got round. + </p> + <p> + “He took his city, though, Mrs. Murray,” said the master, after the great + supper in the manse that evening, as Hughie lay upon the sofa, pale, + suffering, but happy. “And not only one, but a whole continent of them, + and,” he added, “the game as well.” + </p> + <p> + With sudden tears and a little break in her voice, the mother said, + looking at her boy, “It was worth while taking the city, but I fear the + game cost too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw, mother,” said Hughie, “it's only one bone, and I tell you that + final round was worth a leg.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE RESULT + </h3> + <p> + “How many did you say, Craven, of those Glengarry men of yours?” Professor + Gray was catechizing his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “Ten of them, sir, besides the minister's son, who is going to take the + full university course.” + </p> + <p> + “And all of them bound for the ministry?” + </p> + <p> + “So they say. And judging by the way they take life, and the way, for + instance, they play shinny, I have a notion they will see it through.” + </p> + <p> + “They come of a race that sees things through,” answered the professor. + “And this is the result of this Zion Hill Academy I have been hearing so + much about?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, they put in a good year's work, I must say.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have done worse, sir. Indeed, you deserve great credit, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I? Not a bit. I simply showed them what to do and how to do it. But + there's a woman up there that the world ought to know about. For love of + her—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the world!” snorted the professor. “The world, sir! The Lord deliver + us! It might do the world some good, I grant.” + </p> + <p> + “It is for love of her these men are in for the ministry.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong, sir. That is not their motive.” + </p> + <p> + “No, perhaps it is not. It would be unfair to say so, but yet she—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, sir. I know, sir. Bless my soul, sir. I know her. I knew her + before you were born. But—yes, yes—” the professor spoke as if + to himself—“for love of her men would attempt great things. You have + these names, Craven? Ah! Alexander Stewart, Donald Cameron, Thomas Finch—Finch, + let me see—ah, yes, Finch. His mother died after a long illness. + Yes, I remember. A very sad case, a very sad case, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet not so sad, sir,” put in Craven. “At any rate, it did not seem so + at the time. That night it seemed anything but sad. It was wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + The professor laid down his list and sat back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, sir,” he said, gazing curiously at Craven. “I have heard a little + about it. Let me see, it was the night of the great match, was it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you know about that? Who told you about the match, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I hear a great many things, and in curious ways. But go on, sir, go on.” + </p> + <p> + Craven sat silent, and from the look in his eyes his thoughts were far + away. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, it's a thing I have never spoken about. It seems to me, if I + may say so, something quite too sacred to speak of lightly.” + </p> + <p> + Again Craven paused, while the professor waited. + </p> + <p> + “It was Hughie sent me there. There was a jubilation supper at the manse, + you understand. Thomas Finch, the goal-keeper, you know—magnificent + fellow, too—was not at the supper. A messenger had come for him, + saying that his mother had taken a bad turn. Hughie was much disappointed, + and they were all evidently anxious. I offered to drive over and inquire, + and of course the minister's wife, though she had been on the go all day + long, must needs go with me. I can never forget that night. I suppose you + have noticed, sir, there are times when one is more sensitive to + impressions from one's surroundings than others. There are times with me, + too, when I seem to have a very vital kinship with nature. At any rate, + during that drive nature seemed to get close to me. The dark, still + forest, the crisp air, the frost sparkling in the starlight on the trees—it + all seemed to be part of me. I fear I am not explaining myself.” + </p> + <p> + Craven paused again, and his eyes began to glow. The professor still + waited. + </p> + <p> + “When we reached the house we found them waiting for death. The minister's + wife went in, I waited in the kitchen. By and by Billy Jack, that's her + eldest son, you know, came out. 'She is asking for you,' he said, and I + went in. I had often seen her before, and I rather think she liked me. You + see, I had been able to help Thomas along pretty well, both in school and + with his night work, and she was grateful for what I had done, absurdly + grateful when one considers how little it was. I had seen death before, + and it had always been ghastly, but there was nothing ghastly in death + that night. The whole scene is before me now, I suppose always will be.” + </p> + <p> + His dead, black eyes were beginning to show their deep, red fire. + </p> + <p> + The professor looked at him for a moment or two, and then said, “Proceed, + if you please,” and Craven drew a long breath, as if recalling himself, + and went on. + </p> + <p> + “The old man was there at one side, with his gray head down on the bed, + his little girl kneeling beside him with her arm round his neck, opposite + him the minister's wife, her face calm and steady, Billy Jack standing at + the foot of the bed—he and little Jessac the only ones in the room + who were weeping—and there at the head, Thomas, supporting his + mother, now and then moistening her lips and giving her sips of stimulant, + and so quick and steady, gentle as a woman, and smiling through it all. I + could hardly believe it was the same big fellow who three hours before had + carried the ball through the Front defense. I tell you, sir, it was + wonderful. + </p> + <p> + “There was no fuss or hysterical nonsense in that room. The mother lay + there quite peaceful, pain all gone—and she had had enough of it in + her day. She was quite a beautiful woman, too, in a way. Fine eyes, + remarkable eyes, splendidly firm mouth, showing great nerve, I should say. + All her life, I understand, she lived for others, and even now her thought + was not of herself. When I came in she opened her eyes. They were like + stars, actually shining, and her smile was like the sudden breaking of + light through a cloud. She put out her hand for mine, and said—and I + value these words, sir—'Mr. Craven, I give you a mither's thanks and + a mither's blessing for a' you have done for ma laddie.' She was Lowland + Scotch, you know. My voice went all to pieces. I tried to say it was + nothing, but stuck. Thomas helped me out, and without a shake or quiver in + his voice, he answered for me. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, indeed, mother, we'll not forget it.' + </p> + <p> + “'And perhaps you can help him a bit still. He will be needing it,' she + added. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, sir, that quiet steadiness of Thomas and herself braced me + up, and I was able to make my promise. And then she said, with a look that + somehow reminded me of the deep, starlit night outside, through which I + had just come, 'And you, Mr. Craven, you will give your life to God?' + </p> + <p> + “Again my voice failed me. It was so unexpected, and quite overwhelming. + Once more Thomas answered for me. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, mother, he will, sure,' and she seemed to take it as my promise, + for she smiled again at me, and closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I had read of triumphant death-bed scenes, and all that before, without + taking much stock in them, but believe me, sir, that room was full of + glory. The very faces of those people, it seemed to me, were alight. It + may be imagination, but even now, as I think of it, it seems real. There + were no farewells, no wailing, and at the very last, not even tears. + Thomas, who had nursed her for more than a year, still supported her, the + smile on his face to the end. And the end”—Craven's voice grew + unsteady—“it is difficult to speak of. The minister's wife repeated + the words about the house with many mansions, and those about the valley + of the shadow, and said a little prayer, and then we all waited for the + end—for myself, I confess with considerable fear and anxiety. I had + no need to fear. After a long silence she sat up straight, and in her + Scotch tongue, she said, with a kind of amazed joy in her tone, 'Ma + fayther! Ma fayther! I am here.' Then she settled herself back in her + son's arms, drew a deep breath, and was still. All through the night and + next day the glory lingered round me. I went about as in a strange world. + I am afraid you will be thinking me foolish, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The stern old professor was openly wiping his eyes. He seemed quite unable + to find his voice. At length he took up the list again, and began to read + it mechanically. + </p> + <p> + “What! What's this?” he said, suddenly, pointing to a name on the list. + </p> + <p> + “That, sir, is John Craven.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that you, too—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I mean it, if you think I am fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Fit, Jack, my boy! None of us are fit. But what—how did this come?” + The professor blew his nose like a trumpet. + </p> + <p> + “That I can hardly tell myself,” said Craven, with a kind of wonder in his + voice; “but at any rate it is the result of my Glengarry School Days.” + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLENGARRY SCHOOL DAYS ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 3243-h.htm or 3243-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3243/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + + </body> +</html> |