Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia Read online

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  SCHOOL EXPERIENCES.

  By the time autumn had made way for winter, Bert felt thoroughly at homeat Dr. Johnston's, and was just about as happy a boy as attended thisrenowned institution. In spite of the profound awe the doctor inspired,he ventured to cherish toward him a feeling of love as well as ofrespect; and although Mr. Snelling did not exactly inspire awe, nor evenmuch respect, he managed to like him not a little also. As for theboys--well, there were all sorts and conditions of them; good, bad, andindifferent; boys who thought it very fine and manly to smoke, andswear, and swap improper stories, and boys who seemed as if they wouldhave been more appropriately dressed in girls' clothes, so lacking werethey in true manly qualities; while between these two extremes came inthe great majority, among whom Bert easily found plenty of bright,wholesome companions.

  There were some odd chaps at the school, with whose peculiarities Bertwould amuse the home circle very much, as he described them in his owngraphic way. There was Bob Mackasey, called by his companions, "Taffythe Welshman," because he applied the money given him by his motherevery morning to get some lunch with, to the purchase of taffy; whichtoothsome product he easily bartered off for more sandwiches and cakesthan could have been bought for ten cents, thus filling his own stomachat a very slight cost to his far-seeing mother.

  A big fat fellow in knickerbockers, by name Harry Rawdon, the son of anofficer in the English army, had attained a peculiar kind of notorietyin the school, by catching flies and bottling them.

  Then there was Larry Saunders, the dandy of the school, althoughundoubtedly one of the very plainest boys in it, who kept a tiny squareof looking-glass in his desk, and would carefully arrange his toiletbefore leaving the school in the afternoon, to saunter up and down theprincipal street of the city, doing his best to be captivating.

  Two hot-tempered, pugnacious chaps, by name Bob Morley and Fred Short,afforded great amusement by the ease with which they could be set atpunching one another. It was only necessary for some one to take BobMorley aside and whisper meaningly that Fred Short had been calling himnames behind his back, or something of that sort equally aggravating, toput him in fighting humour. Forthwith, he would challenge Master Fred inthe orthodox way--that is, he would take up a chip, spit on it, and tossit over his shoulder. Without a moment's hesitation, Fred would acceptthe challenge, and then the two would be at it, hammer and tongs,fighting vigorously until they were separated by the originators of themischief, when they thought they had had enough of it. They were veryevenly matched, and as a matter of fact did not do one another muchharm; but the joke of the thing was that they never seemed to suspecthow they were being made tools of by the other boys, who always enjoyedthese duels immensely.

  Another character, and a very lovable one this time, was a nephew of thedoctor's, Will Johnston by name, but universally called "Teter," an oddnickname, the reason of which he did not seem to understand himself.This Teter was one of those good-natured, obliging, reckless,happy-go-lucky individuals who never fail to win the love of boys. Hisgenerosity was equalled only by his improvidence, and both weresurpassed by his good luck.

  Bert conceived a great admiration for Teter Johnston. His undauntedcourage, as exhibited in snowball fights, when, with only a handful offollowers he would charge upon the rest of the school, and generally putthem to flight; his reckless enterprise and amazing luck at marbles andother games; his constant championing of the small boys when tormentedby the larger ones, more than one bully having had a tremendousthrashing at his hands;--these were very shining qualities in Bert'seyes, and they fascinated him so, that if "fagging" had been permittedat Dr. Johnston's, Bert would have deemed it not a hardship, but anhonour, to have been Teter's "fag."

  In strong contrast to his admiration for Teter Johnston was hisantipathy to Rod Graham. Rod was both a sneak and a bully. It was in hischaracter as a sneak that he showed himself to Bert first, makingprofuse demonstrations of goodwill, and doing his best to ingratiatehimself with him, because from his well-to-do appearance he judged thathe would be a good subject from whom to beg lunch, or borrow marbles,and so on. But Bert instinctively disliked Rod, and avoided him to thebest of his ability. Then Rod revealed the other side of his nature.From a sneak he turned into a bully, and lost no opportunity of teasingand tormenting Bert, who, being much smaller than he, felt compelled tosubmit, although there were times when he was driven almost todesperation. It was not so much by open violence as by underhandedtrickery that Rod vented his spite, and this made it all the harder forBert, who, although he was never in any doubt as to the identity of theperson that stole his lunch, poured ink over his copy-book, scratchedhis slate with a bit of jagged glass, tore the tails off his glengarry,and filled the pockets of his overcoat with snow, still saw no way ofputting a stop to this tormenting other than by thrashing Rod, and thishe did not feel equal to doing. Upon this last point, however, hechanged his mind subsequently, thanks to the influence of his friendTeter Johnston, and the result was altogether satisfactory as will beshown in due time.

  Bert's feelings toward Dr. Johnston himself were, as has been alreadystated, of a mixed nature. At first, he was simply afraid of him, butlittle by little a gentler feeling crept into his heart. Yet, there wasno doubt, the doctor was far more likely to inspire fear than love. Hewielded his authority with an impartial, unsparing hand. No allowancewas ever made for hesitancy or nervousness on the part of the scholarwhen reciting his lesson, nor for ebullitions of boyish spirits whensitting at the desk. "Everything must be done correctly, and in order,"was the motto of his rule. The whippings he administered were about asimpressive a mode of school punishment as could be desired. The unhappyboy who had behaved so ill, or missed so many lessons as to deserve one,heard the awful words, "Stand upon the floor for punishment," uttered inthe doctor's sternest tones. Trembling in every limb, and feeling coldshivers running up and down his back, while his face flushed fiery red,or paled to ashy white by turns, the culprit would reluctantly leave hisseat, and take his stand in the centre aisle, with the eyes of the wholeschool upon him variously expressing pity, compassion, or perhapsunsympathetic ridicule.

  After he had stood there some time, for be it known this exposure wasan essential part of the punishment, he would see the doctor slowly risefrom his seat, draw forth from its hiding-place the long black strapthat had for so many years been his sceptre, and then come down towardhim with slow, stately steps. Stopping just in front of him, the orderwould be issued: "Hold out your hand." Quivering with apprehension, theboy would extend his hand but half way, keeping his elbow fast at hisside. But the doctor would not be thus partially obeyed. "Hold _out_your hand, sir!" he would thunder; and out would go the arm to itsfullest length, and with a sharp swish through the air, down would comethe strap, covering the hand from the wrist to finger tip, and sending athrill of agony through every nerve in the body. Ten, twenty, thirty, orin extreme cases, even forty such stripes would be administered, someboys taking them as fast as the doctor could strike, so that the torturemight soon be over, and others pausing between each blow, to rub theirstinging palms together, and bedew them with their tears.

  It was a terrible ordeal, no doubt, and one that would hardly beapproved of to-day, the publicity uniting with the severity to make it acruel strain upon a boy's nervous system. In all the years that Bertspent at Dr. Johnston's school he was called upon to endure it onlyonce, but that once sufficed. The way it came about was this:

  Bert one morning happened to be in a more than usually frolicsome mood,and was making pellets out of the soft part of the rolls he had broughtfor lunch, and throwing them about. In trying to hit a boy who satbetween him and Mr. Snelling's desk, he somehow or other miscalculatedhis aim, and to his horror, the sticky pellet flew straight at the baldspot on top of Mr. Snelling's head, as the latter bent his shortsightedeyes over a book before him, hitting it in the centre, and staying therein token of its success.

  With angry face, Mr. Snelling sprang to his feet
, and brushing theunlucky pellet from his shiny pate, called out so fiercely as to attractthe doctor's attention:

  "Who threw that at me?"

  The few boys who were in the secret looked very hard at their books,while those who were not glanced up in surprise, and tried to discoverthe cause of Mr. Snelling's excitement.

  "Who threw that at me?" demanded Mr. Snelling, again.

  Bert, who had at first been so appalled by what he had done that histongue refused to act, was about to call out "It was I, sir," when RodGraham was seen to hold up his hand, and on Mr. Snelling turninginquiringly toward him, Rod, in a low, sneaking voice, said:

  "It was Lloyd, sir; I saw him do it."

  Mr. Snelling immediately called out, "Lloyd, come to my desk;" andBert, feeling hot and cold by turns, went up to the desk, and stoodbefore it, the picture of penitence.

  "Did you throw that pellet?" asked Mr. Snelling, in indignant tones.

  "Yes, sir; but I didn't mean to hit you, sir," answered Bert, meekly.

  "I know nothing about that," answered Mr. Snelling, too much excited tolisten to any defence. "Follow me to Dr. Johnston."

  Hastening into the presence of the stern headmaster, Mr. Snelling statedwhat had happened, and pointed to the trembling Bert as the culprit.

  "How do you know he is the offender, Mr. Snelling?" inquired the doctor,gravely.

  "Graham said he saw him do it, sir, and Lloyd confesses it himself,"replied Mr. Snelling.

  "Oh! indeed--that is sufficient. Leave Lloyd with me." And thusdismissed, Mr. Snelling returned to his desk.

  "Lloyd, I am sorry about this. You must stand upon the floor forpunishment," said the doctor, turning to Bert; and Bert, chilled to theheart, took his place upon the spot where he had so often pitied otherboys for being.

  Presently, drawing out his strap, the doctor came toward him:

  "Hold out your hand, sir."

  Bert promptly extended his right hand to the full. Swish! and down camethe cruel strap upon it, inflicting a burning smart, as though it were ared-hot iron, and sending a thrill of agony through every nerve. Swish!And the left hand was set on fire. Swish! Swish! right and left; rightand left, until twenty stripes had been administered; and then, turningon his heel, the doctor walked solemnly back to his desk.

  During all this torture not a sound had escaped Bert. He felt that thedoctor could not do otherwise than punish him, and he determined to bearthe punishment bravely; so closing his lips tightly, and summoning allhis resolution, he held out one hand after the other, taking the blowsas fast as the doctor could give them. But when the ordeal was over hehurried to his seat, and burying his head in his burning hands, burstinto a passion of tears--for he could control himself no longer.

  A few minutes later his attention was aroused by hearing the doctor callout, in a loud, stern voice:

  "Graham, come forward."

  Graham got out of his seat, and in a half-frightened way, slunk up tothe doctor's desk.

  "I understand, Graham," said the doctor, with his grimmest expression,"that you volunteered to tell Mr. Snelling who it was that threw thatpellet. You know, or ought to know, the rule of this school as toinformers. You will receive the same punishment that I have just givenLloyd. Stand upon the floor."

  Completely taken aback at this unexpected turn in affairs, Rod Grahammechanically took up his position, looking the very picture of abjectmisery. The doctor kept him there for full half-an-hour, and thenadministered twenty stripes, with an unction that showed, clearlyenough, his profound contempt for that most contemptible of beings, aninformer.

  Now, Bert was not an angel, but simply a boy--a very good boy, in manyrespects, no doubt, but a boy, notwithstanding. It would, therefore, bedoing him an injustice to deny that he took a certain delight in seeinghis tormentor receive so sound a whipping, and that it brought, atleast, a temporary balm to his own wounded feelings. But the wound wasaltogether too deep to be cured by this, or by Frank Bowser's heartfeltsympathy, or even by the praise of his schoolmates, many of whom came upto him at recess and told him he was "a brick," "a daisy," and so forth,because he had taken a whipping without crying.

  All this could not hide from him what he felt to be the disgrace of thething. So ashamed was he of himself that he could hardly find courage totell them about it at home; and although, easily appreciating the wholesituation, Mr. Lloyd had only words of cheer for him, and none ofcondemnation, Bert still took it so much to heart that the followingSunday he pleaded hard to be allowed to remain away from the Sundayschool, as he did not want to face Mr. Silver and his classmates sosoon. But his father wisely would not suffer this, and so, much againsthis will, he went to school as usual, where, however, he felt very illat ease until the session was over, when he had a long talk with Mr.Silver, and told him the whole story.

  This relieved his mind very much. He felt as if he were square with theworld again, and he went back to Dr. Johnston's far lighter in heart onMonday morning than he had left it on Friday afternoon. He had learned alesson, too, that needed no reteaching throughout the remainder of hisschool days. That was the first and last time Bert Lloyd stood upon thefloor for punishment.