The Willoughby Captains - Reed Talbot Baines (книги бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

“The last time I spoke in this room,” said he, “I had to discharge the painful duty of punishing the whole school for a serious and inexcusable act of insubordination.”

“Why do they always call it a painful duty?” inquired the artless Telson of his ally; “I’m sure it doesn’t hurt them.”

“Silence! whoever is speaking!” said the doctor, sternly. “I hope what was said then will not be forgotten. An act of that kind could not possibly be allowed to pass without punishment, and any repetition of it would entail the severest measures. However, I say no more of that at present. I have called you together to read to you a letter I have just received from the newly-elected Member for Shellport, Mr Cheeseman.”

As the doctor pronounced this unpopular name, one hardy junior, quite mistaking the gravity of the occasion, began a low hiss.

Before the infection could spread the doctor suddenly laid down the letter, and with a voice of thunder demanded, “Who is that? Stand up, sir, in your place!”

The luckless form of the youthful Lawkins, pale and scared, rose from a back bench.

“Leave the room, sir!” said the doctor, wrathfully, “and write out your imposition double, and come to me after third school!”

Poor Lawkins retired, and the assembly, being warned by his awful example, heard the doctor out without further interruption.

“Mr Cheeseman writes as follows —

“‘Dear Dr Patrick, — I hope I need no apology for writing to you on a matter affecting the boys under your charge. A large number of these young politicians, as you are aware, took a somewhat active part in the recent election, in which it was not my good fortune to be their favourite candidate. I understand that their crusade into the town was not only without your permission, but in direct opposition to your wishes; and I conclude, that being so, the offenders have merited the punishment due for such escapades. The election, as you know, is now decided, and I am anxious that one of my first acts in my new capacity should be one of intercession with you to take as lenient a view as you can of this schoolboy freak; and if you should find it consistent with your duty to remit any penalty that may have been inflicted, I shall be as grateful to you as no doubt your boys will be.’

“‘I am, dear doctor,’

“‘Yours faithfully,’

“‘A. Cheeseman.’”

The doctor laid down the letter amidst ominous silence, which even the feeble cheers of Bosher, Brown, and a few others barely disturbed.

“In consideration of this generous letter,” he continued, “I have decided to remit the impositions I gave on Saturday, and also to withdraw the prohibition about the half-holiday. The matter of the monitors I cannot reconsider. I may suggest that, after what has happened, it would be a graceful act on the part of the boys to send Mr Cheeseman a letter of thanks, at any rate, if not of apology. You are now dismissed.”

It was quite evident that the majority of the boys were at a loss how to take this strange and unexpected announcement. True, they hated the Radicals, but they also hated impositions and detention, and the probability is that, if left to themselves, they would quietly have availed themselves of Mr Cheeseman’s clemency.

But to the small band of hot-headed enthusiasts the very notion of being under an obligation to the Radical was repulsive. They could scarcely wait till the doctor had departed before they vehemently denounced the idea.

“Well,” said Merrison, “if that’s not what you call adding insult to injury, I don’t know what you do! I know I mean to write every letter of my impot if it was a thousand lines instead of a hundred!”

“So shall I; and I’ll not stir out of doors all Wednesday afternoon either,” said another.

“Of course not; no honourable fellow would.”

“I suppose he thinks he’s going to bribe us, the cad. Perhaps he hopes we’ll give him a leg-up next election?”

“I vote we put on a spurt with the impots and get them all done together,” said another. “Paddy shall see which way we go, at any rate.”

And so, sorely to the disappointment of some of the juniors, who had been rejoicing prematurely in the removal of their penalties, the order went round in all the houses that every boy was expected in honour to finish his imposition by next day, and also to remain in on Wednesday afternoon, as a protest against “Radical cheek,” and this was an appeal no loyal Whig could resist.

It was at least an unusual spectacle in Willoughby to see nearly the whole school insisting on performing a task which no one required of them; each boy not only doing it himself, but seeing that his neighbour did it too!

Several of the small boys and a few lazy seniors protested, but they were coerced with most terrific threats.

The Wednesday half-holiday was spent in determined seclusion, scarcely a boy showing his face in the playground. Even those who had not broken bounds on election-day, and who, therefore, in no case came under the penalty, felt quite out of it, and half ashamed of themselves in the presence of this general burst of political devotion; and it was rumoured that one or two of the weakest-minded of these actually stayed in and wrote out the imposition too!

The following morning was an impressive one in the annals of Willoughby. The doctor, as he stood in the Great Hall speaking to Mr Parrett after morning prayers, was, much to his amazement, waylaid by the school in a body. Every boy carried in his hand a sheet of paper, and wore on his face a most self-satisfied expression.

“What is all this?” inquired the doctor, sharply, a little bit frightened, perhaps, at this sudden and mysterious invasion of his privacy.

Merrison was pushed forward by the crowd, and advancing paper in hand, replied for the company generally.

“Please, sir,” said he, “we’ve brought the impositions.”

“Eh?” said the doctor.

“The impositions, sir. We didn’t want to be let off, so we stayed in yesterday afternoon, all of us, and wrote them.”

From the tones in which Merrison uttered this explanation one might have supposed he expected the doctor to fall on his neck and shed tears of joy over the lofty virtue of his pupils.

Dr Patrick was quick enough to take in the state of affairs at once, and was wise enough to make the best of the situation.

“Ah,” said he, coolly, taking Morrison’s proffered imposition and glancing his eyes down it. “I am glad to see you desire to make amends for what occurred on Saturday. You can leave the impositions on this table.”

“Please, sir, it’s not that,” said Merrison, hurriedly, alarmed at being suspected of anything like contrition. “It’s not that; we—”

“You can leave the impositions on the table,” said the doctor, sternly, turning at the same time to continue his conversation with Mr Parrett, which the arrival of the visitors had interrupted.

It was a sad blow for Willoughby, this! They had expected better things. They had meant their act of self-devotion to be a crushing defiance to the Radical, and even a mild rebuke to the doctor himself. But it had turned out neither.

Slowly and sorrowfully they filed past the table and laid their sacrifices thereon, and then departed, dejected and crestfallen. The doctor, with his back turned, never noticed them, and no one had the hardihood to attempt further to attract his attention.

So ended the election episode at Willoughby.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves,” said Crossfield to Tedbury the Limpet, that afternoon. “Jolly time you’ve had of it.”

“It’s all that young ass Morrison’s doing,” growled Tedbury.

“Never mind,” said Crossfield, laughing; “I’m sure it’s done you all good. You all wanted something of the sort, and you’ll be better of it.”

“You’re always trying to make a fool of me, Crossfield,” said Tedbury, wrathfully.