Glengarry School Days: A Story of Early Days in Glengarry

by Ralph Connor

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE FIRST ROUND

  The challenge from the Front was for the best two out of three, thefirst game to be played the last day of the year. Steadily, underCraven's coaching, the Twentieth team were perfected in their systematicplay; for although Craven knew nothing of shinny, he had captained thechampion lacrosse team of the province of Quebec, and the same generalrules of defense and attack could be applied with equal success to thegame of shinny. The team was greatly strengthened by the accession ofThomas Finch and Don Cameron, both of whom took up the school again witha view to college. With Thomas in goal, Hughie said he felt as if a bighole had been filled up behind him.

  The master caused a few preliminary skirmishes with neighboring teamsto be played by way of practice, and by the time the end of the year hadcome, he felt confident that the team would not disgrace their school.His confidence was not ill-founded.

  "We have covered ourselves with glory," he writes to his friend NedMaitland, "for we have whipped to a finish the arrogant and mightyFront. I am more than ever convinced that I shall have to take a fewdays off and get away to Montreal, or some other retired spot, torecover from the excitement of the last week.

  "Under my diligent coaching, in which, knowing nothing whatever ofshinny, I have striven to introduce something of the lacrosse method,our team got into really decent fighting trim. Under the leadership oftheir captain, who has succeeded in infusing his own fierce and furioustemper into his men, they played like little demons, from the drop ofthe ball till the game was scored. 'Furious' is the word, for they andtheir captain play with headlong fury, and that, I might say, is abouttheir only defect, for if they ever should run into a bigger team, whohad any semblance of head about them, and were not merely feet, theywould surely come to grief.

  "I cannot stay to recount our victory. Let it suffice that we weredriven down in two big sleigh-loads by Thomas Finch, the back wall ofour defense, and Don Cameron, who plays in the right of the forwardline, both great, strapping fellows, who are to be eventually, Ibelieve, members of my preparatory class.

  "The Front came forth, cheerful, big, confident, trusting in the mightof their legs. We are told that the Lord taketh no pleasure in the legsof man, and this is true in the game of shinny. Not legs alone, butheart and head win, with anything like equal chances.

  "Game called, 2:30; Captain Hughie has the drop; seizes the ball, passesit to Fusie, who rushes, passes back to Hughie, who has arrived in thevicinity of the enemy's goal, and shoots, swift and straight, a goal.Time, 30 seconds.

  "Again and again my little demons pierce the heavy, solid line of theFront defense, and score, the enemy, big and bewildered, being chieflyoccupied in watching them do it. By six o'clock that evening I had themsafe at the manse in a condition of dazed jubilation, quite unable torealize the magnificence of their achievement. They had driven twelvemiles down, played a two hours' game of shinny, score eight to two,and were back safe and sound, bearing with them victory and some brokenshins, equally proud of both.

  "There is a big supper at the manse, prepared, I believe, with the viewof consolation, but transformed into a feast of triumph, the ministerbeing enthusiastically jubilant over the achievement of his boys, hiswife, if possible, even more so. The heroes feed themselves to fullness,amazing and complete, the minister holds a thanksgiving service, inwhich I have no doubt my little demons most earnestly join, after whichthey depart to shed the radiance of their glory throughout the section.

  "And now I have to recount another experience of mine, quite unique andaltogether inexplicable. It appears that in this remarkable abode--Iwould call it 'The Saint's Rest' were it not for the presence of othersthan saints, and for the additional fact that there is little rest forthe saint who makes her dwelling here--in this abode there prevails thequaint custom of watching the death of the old year and the birth of thenew. It is made the occasion of religious and heart-searching rite. Asthe 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 isthe family festival of the year.

  "'And what will they be doing at your home, Mr. Craven?' inquires theminister. The contrast that rose before my mind was vivid enough, forhaving received my invitation to a big dance, I knew my sweet sisterswould be having a jolly wild time about that moment. My answer, given Ifeel in a somewhat flippant tone, appears to shock my shinny captain ofthe angelic face, who casts a honor-stricken glance at his mother, andwaits for the word of reproof that he thinks is due from the padre'slips.

  "But before it falls the mother interposes with 'They will missyou greatly this evening.' It was rather neatly done, and I think Iappreciated it.

  "The rite proceeds. The initial ceremony is the repeating of a verse ofScripture all round, and to save my life nothing comes to my mind butthe words, 'Remember Lot's wife.' As I cannot see the appropriateness ofthe quotation, I pass.

  "Five minutes before the stroke of twelve, they sing the Scottishparaphrase beginning, 'O God of Bethel.' I do not suppose you ever heardit, but it is a beautiful hymn, and singularly appropriate to thehour. In this I lend assistance with my violin, the tune being the veryfamiliar one of 'Auld Lang Syne,' associated in my mind, however, withoccasions somewhat widely diverse from this. I assure you I am thankfulthat my part is instrumental, for the whole business is getting onto myemotions in a disturbing manner, and especially when I allow my eyes tolinger for a moment or two on the face of the lady, the center of thecircle, who is deliberately throwing away her fine culture and heraltogether beautiful soul upon the Anakim here, and with a beautifulunconsciousness of anything like sacrifice, is now thanking God for theprivilege of doing so. I have some moments of rare emotional luxury,those moments that are next to tears.

  "Then the padre offers one of those heart-racking prayers of his that,whether they reach anything outside or not, somehow get down intoone's vitals, and stir up remorses, and self-condemnings, and longingsunutterable. Then they all kiss the mother and wish her a HappyNew-Year.

  "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 queenreceiving homage, that without seeming to feel I was making a foolof myself, I did the Queen Victoria act, and saluted her hand. It iswonderful how great moments discover the lady to you. She must haveknown how I was feeling, for with a very beautiful grace, she said, 'Letme be your mother for to-night,' and by Jove, she kissed me. I have beenkissed before, and have kissed some women in my time, but that is theonly kiss I can remember, and s'help me Bob, I'll never kiss anothertill I kiss my wife.

  "And then and there, Maitland, I swore by all that I knew of God, and byeverything sacred in life, that I'd quit the past and be worthy of hertrust; for the mischief of it is, she will persist in trusting you, putsyou on your honor noblesse oblige business, and all that. I think I toldyou 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 amgoing to play shinny with those boys, and if I can help them to win thatmatch, and the big game of life, I will do it.

  "As witness my hand and seal, this first day of January, 18--

  "J. C."