CHAPTER IX
PAINFUL LESSONS
“Pass a fork, Dave.”
“Haven’t one; use your knife.”
“Can’t get pickles out with a knife, silly. Can’t you----”
“Here’s one,” said Wayne. “I was sitting on it. When will Paddy gethere?”
“Ought to be here now. Wish he’d hurry; I’m getting most powerfulhungry, as Old Virginia there says.”
“Will he be elected?” asked Wayne, as he struggled with the cover of abiscuit tin.
“Sure to be,” answered Dave, who was arranging the spread on the studytable of No. 2 Hampton, now denuded of its customary litter of books,paper, and rubbish. “And he’ll be here pretty quick; I told him we’dwait until nine, and if he wasn’t here then we’d start in.”
“Thunder!” yelled Don, suddenly leaping up and dancing around the table.
“What?” cried the others, in a breath.
“Where’s the water? All the mustard in those pickles got on top and--”He buried his face in the pitcher that Dave held out.
“Serves you right,” grinned Wayne. “Had no business tasting things.”
“I like your cheek,” said Don indignantly. “You’ve been sitting thereeating biscuits for five minutes. Look, Dave, he’s eaten the whole toplayer off!”
“Pig!” cried Dave, and rescued the tin, placing it on the table, whereit was flanked by sheets of writing paper in lieu of dishes holdingpotted duck, mince tarts, a pineapple cheese, and preserved figs, thelatter overflowing in sticky streams on to the table top.
“What’ll we crack the nuts with, Dave?” asked Don.
“Nuts? Find one of Paddy’s football brogans in the closet. Crack ’em onthe hearth and stuff the shells in Paddy’s bed. Too late, though--he’scoming, and he’s got some one with him. Let’s welcome ’em.”
Paddy and Greene entered amid a fusillade of walnuts and cork stoppers,and by concerted action ran Dave into a closet and turned the key onhim.
“Are you It?” asked Don eagerly.
“I’m It,” replied Paddy, striking an attitude. “And Greene’s a backnumber--aren’t you, Greeney? And I can pommel you all I want and notlose my place on the team, can’t I?”
“_Hooray!_” It was the muffled tones of Dave from the closet.
“Shut up, you! Greene withdrew and so I got the captaincy. He couldhave had it again if he’d wanted it.”
“Rot!” said Greene. “I was out of it, and I knew it. Besides, I didn’twant it again. Three times is too much. I’m awfully glad it went toPaddy. He’ll make a good captain, Cunningham; don’t you think so?”Don’s reply was interrupted by the sound of breaking wood. Dave emergedfrom the closet in a heap, and, picking himself up, seized Paddy andforced him into a wild dance about the room.
“Hooray for Paddy--Captain Paddy!” he shouted. In the dance Paddy’snice white bandage came off and exposed a very black eye, which lent athoroughly desperate and disreputable look to the countenance of thenewly elected captain of the football team.
“By the way, Greene, do you know Gordon?” asked Paddy, as the boysfound seats about the table and without further ceremony began thefeast. Greene didn’t, and very graciously shook hands.
“You’re the fellow that got spunky to-day, aren’t you?” he askedsmilingly. Wayne nodded, looking bored.
“Wayne doesn’t like the subject,” said Dave. “It’s a matter of lastingregret to him that he didn’t reach that chap Kirkwell.”
“Well, don’t worry, my boy,” said Paddy, as he filled his mouth withcracker and jam. “I reached him once. I didn’t do it the way I shouldhave liked to, of course, because I was seeing double and having hardwork to keep my pins, but I fetched him a very decent little jab onthe neck. He got me four times before I gave up--hang him! Mind you,fellows, I don’t believe in slugging, and I never did it before--thatis, since I have been on the team--but to-day I got tired of having himbang me every time there was a mix-up, so I forgot myself.” And Paddygrinned reminiscently and tried to wink his damaged eye at Wayne.
“Kirkwell’s a dirty player,” said Greene. “Pass some of that cheese,will you?--He played last year, you know, and Jasper caught himslugging once in the game with the Yates freshmen and put him off.Jasper’s St. Eustace’s captain,” he explained to Wayne. “He’s anawfully decent chap, too, and he promised me to-day that Kirkwellshouldn’t play again if he could help it.”
“Dave, Wallace was up yesterday to ask about the hockey team--wantsyou and me to join again. He’s got seven games arranged; one with St.Eustace and one with a high school club at Troy, or somewhere. Want togo in?” And Don poised a tart in front of his mouth and waited a reply.
“I guess so. You going to try, Paddy?”
“I might. There’s lots of time to decide. There’ll be no decent ice onthe river, I dare say, for a month yet.”
“I’m going to try for it,” continued Don. “We had lots of fun lastyear. Can you skate, Wayne?”
Wayne hesitated and munched a sandwich.
“Yes, I can skate,” he said finally. “But----”
“Then you’d better report next Saturday in the gym,” said Don. “Greene,are you trying for a scholarship this term?” Greene sighed.
“Trying? Oh, yes, I’m _trying_; but I haven’t the least idea of makingit. But I’m going to buckle down now and put in some hard licks atgrinding. I suppose you’re sure of one, aren’t you, you lucky beggar?”
“No, I’m not at all sure; but I may win a Master’s. Paddy’s the onlyfellow here, I suppose, that’s certain of a scholarship.”
“Indade an’ I’m not certain at all at all,” said Paddy. “I’ve done wellwith Latin and fairly well with Greek, but, whisper, English has mefloored. And old ‘Turkey’ has been putting the screws on me all term,bad scran to him. But,” continued Paddy, with beautiful modesty, “medeportment has been of the best.”
“Well, we’ll all know in a month; and there’s no good in worrying,”said Dave. “Somebody have some more of everything.”
“I can ate no more,” answered Paddy sorrowfully. “It’s out of practiceI am altogether.”
“And I’ve had enough,” said Don.
“Same here,” echoed Greene. “I must be getting home. It’s ten o’clock,and I’m dog tired. Good night, fellows; and better luck next year,Paddy. Any one going my way?”
Wayne and Don arose, and the three said good night and picked their wayout through the darkened hall and across the dimly lighted green towardtheir dormitories.
“By the way, Gordon,” said the ex-captain of the football team,breaking the silence, “that was well meant to-day, you know--yourjumping on that St. Eustace fellow--and nobody blames you; but--well,it isn’t just the thing, you see--we don’t do it at Hillton. You--yousee what I mean?”
“Yes,” answered Wayne gloomily. “I see what you mean, but I don’tunderstand-- Never mind, though, I’ll remember next time.”
“Glad you take it that way,” said Greene. “It’s not my place to mentionit to you, only--being a chum of Cunningham’s--and your first termhere-- Well, good night, fellows.”
Wayne had almost fallen asleep, when he was aroused by a muffledchuckle from the direction of Don’s bed.
“What’s up?” he asked sleepily.
“Nothing,” was the response. “I just remembered that I put the walnutshells in Dave’s boots.”
When Wayne told Don that he could skate, he had not been quite truthful.
“He asked me, ‘Can you skate?’” reasoned Wayne; “not ‘Do you skate?’And of course I _can_ if I try hard enough!”
But the argument didn’t quite satisfy him, and he set out to lendveracity to it by purchasing a pair of half-clamp skates in the villageand seeking an unfrequented pond fully a mile from the school. AboutWayne’s home in Virginia skates were seldom seen and more seldom used.But the boy had been ashamed to acknowledge his ignorance before theothers who did so many things well. He had been about to qualify hi
sassent by adding that he could not skate very well when Don interruptedhim.
To learn to skate without instruction is almost as difficult asto learn to swim unaided, and Wayne’s troubles began on the firstafternoon that he eluded his friends and sneaked off through thevillage. The pond was hidden from the road by willows, and he hadlittle fear of interruption. After a struggle of several moments heat last managed to affix his skates--he put the left one on the rightshoe, and _vice versa_--and stepped on to the ice. The immediateresult was as surprising as it was disappointing, for his first stepresulted not in progress but in prostration, his head coming in violentcontact with the frozen earth at the margin of the ice. He arose witha thumping headache, and after a moment of painful bewilderment turnedhis steps homeward, with a vastly increased respect for the art ofskating and a heightened dislike for it as the result of his firstlesson.
But he was back again the next day. He found a friendly branch leaningout over the ice, and with its aid experimented on his runners, makingnumerous remarkable discoveries in the next ten minutes. He found thatit was necessary to place the rear foot at an angle while he advancedthe front one, and that as long as the center of gravity of his bodyremained in advance of one foot he was in little danger of falling. Butas soon as the branch was discarded he sat down just where the ice washardest, and it took him a whole minute of the most careful managementto get his feet under him again; and when that was accomplished hediscovered to his dismay that he was sliding, as though propelledby invisible force, toward the very middle of the pond, his skatesgradually parting company and his body held as though in the act ofsitting. The thing was so disconcerting that he was heartily glad whenhe did take a seat, even though it was at a disheartening distancefrom shore. He first considered crawling back to _terra firma_ on hishands and knees, but that would seem too much like giving up; so heagain went through the remarkable contortions necessary to recover hisequilibrium, and finally reached the shore after a series of excitingadventures, during which one skate became detached at the toe and hisbreath forsook him entirely. Four more falls completed that day’slesson, and he went back to the school with his head buzzing like ahive of bees and his body covered with bruises.
A thaw set in that night, and for the next few days he had to contenthimself with studying the art from a volume of the Badminton Library.The book wasn’t much of a help. It seemed as though the famous skaterwho had written the chapter headed First Principles of Skating, andSuggestions to Beginners, had been so overpowered by the magnitudeof his task that he had given up in despair before he had begun. Thefew facts of practical value which he had mentioned Wayne had alreadydiscovered by painful experience.
But two weeks before Christmas, and a week before the end of the fallterm, the ice on the ponds again froze to a respectable thickness, andWayne continued his self-instruction. Six excursions had been made tothe little pond, and the boy had attained to a degree of skill whichallowed of his circling the ice without falling, and he was fastbecoming both fond of the sport and proud of his ability. But pridegoes before a fall, especially in skating. One afternoon Wayne hadtwice encompassed the pond, and was seriously considering an attempt atskating backward, when one runner encountered a twig imbedded in thesurface, and he took a most undignified tumble. His wounded feelingswere in no measure relieved by the peals of boisterous laughter thatissued from across the pond, where, hidden by the willows, Paddy andDave had crouched, interested spectators of his disaster.
“Bully for Old Virginia!” bawled Paddy.
“I say, Wayne,” shouted Dave, “do that again, won’t you? I didn’t seethe first of it!”
And then, as Wayne strove to recover his feet and his dignity, theirgibes took a new turn, and Dave asked Paddy with elaborate politenesswhat the young gentleman on the ice was doing; and Paddy assured himthat he wasn’t at all certain, but thought that the young gentlemanwas looking for something he had dropped; whereupon Dave thanked Paddyceremoniously, and explained that he had supposed, judging from thefact that the young gentleman wore skates, you know, that the latterwas skating; and Paddy assured him that he was mistaken, oh, quitemistaken, and that the young gentleman had no idea of skating; andWayne floundered dejectedly up and sat down meekly on the bank, andtold them mournfully that he didn’t mind, only they might just cut outa little of it!
When Don was gleefully informed of the affair by Paddy, he grinneddelightedly.
“That’s just like Wayne,” he exclaimed. “Pluckiest and obstinatestchump in school.”
For the Honor of the School: A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport Page 9
