CHAPTER X.
BERT GOES TO SCHOOL.
With the waning of summer came the time for Mrs. Lloyd to return to thecity. Both she and Bert felt very sorry to leave Maplebank, and thefamily there was unanimous in seeking to persuade her to allow Bert toremain for the winter. But this was not practicable, because, in thefirst place, Mr. Lloyd had been writing to say that he was quite tiredof being without his boy, and would like to have him back again as soonas was convenient; and, in the second place, Bert had reached the agewhen he ought to begin his schooling, and must return home for thatpurpose.
So at length, after more than one postponement, the day of departurearrived. Grandmother and Aunt Martha, and Aunt Sarah, could not restraintheir tears, and big, kind Kitty was among the mourners too, as Bert andhis mother took their seat in the carriage beside the Squire and UncleAlec, to drive in to the village where the coach would be met.
With many a promise to come back ere very long, and many a fond"Good-bye! God bless you, my darling!" the travellers started on theirhomeward journey. The village was reached in good time, the coach foundawaiting its passengers, the trunks safely stowed behind, the lastgood-bye to grandfather and Uncle Alec said, and then, amid cracking ofwhips and waving of handkerchiefs, the big coach rolled grandly off, andBert had really parted with dear, delightful Maplebank, where he hadspent such a happy summer.
The homeward journey was a very pleasant one, and marked by no excitingincidents. Jack Davis was in his place on the box, and, recognising Bertwhen the passengers got out at the first change of horses, hailed himwith a hearty: "Holloa, youngster! Are you on board? Would you like tocome up on top with me again?"
It need hardly be said that Bert jumped at the invitation, and, hismother giving her consent, he rode on the box seat beside Davis thegreater part of the day as happy as a bird. The weather was perfect, itbeing a cool, bright day in early September, and Bert enjoyed very muchrecognising and recalling the different things that had particularlyinterested him on the way down. "Black Rory" was as lively as ever, andseemed determined to run away and dash everything to pieces as theystarted out from his stable, but calmed down again after a mile or two,as usual, and trotted along amiably enough the rest of his distance.
It happened that Davis had no one on the outside with whom he cared totalk, so he gave a good deal of attention to Bert, telling him about thehorses and their peculiarities, and how they were in so many ways justlike people, and had to be humoured sometimes, and sometimes punished,and how it was, upon the whole, so much better to be kind than cruel tothem.
"If your father ever lets you have a pony, Bert," said Davis, "take myword for it it'll pay you to treat that ere pony like a brother. Justlet him know you're fond of him from the start; give him a lump of sugaror a crust of bread now and then--it's wonderful how fond horses are ofsuch things--and he'll follow you about just like a dog. Horses have gota good deal more human nature in 'em than folks generally give 'emcredit for, I can tell you, and I think I know what I am talking about,for I've had to do with them ever since I've been as big as you."
Bert listened to this lecture with very lively interest, for his fatherhad more than once hinted at getting him a pony some day if he were agood boy, and showed he could be trusted with one. He confided his hopesto his friend, and received in return for the confidence a lot more ofgood advice, which need not be repeated here.
The sun was setting as the coach drove up to the hotel at Thurso, whereMrs. Lloyd and Bert were to remain for the night, taking the train forHalifax the next morning. Bert felt quite sorry at parting with his bigfriend, the driver, and very gladly promised him that the next time hewas going to Maplebank he would try to manage so as to be going down onJack Davis' day that their friendship might be renewed.
Both Bert and his mother were very glad to get to bed that night.Coaching is fine fun in fine weather, but it is fatiguing, nevertheless.You cannot ride all day in a coach without more or less backache, andBert was so sleepy that, but for his mother preventing him, he wouldhave flung himself upon his bed without so much as taking off his boots.He managed to undress all right enough, however, and then slept like atop until next morning.
Bright and early they took the train, and by mid-day were at Halifax,where Mr. Lloyd and Mary received them with open arms and many a gladkiss.
After allowing him a few days to settle down to home life again, thequestion of Bert's going to school was raised. He was now full eightyears of age, and quite old enough to make a beginning. His mother andsister had between them given him a good start in the "three R's" athome, for he was an apt pupil, and he was quite ready to enter a largersphere.
At first his parents were somewhat undecided as to whether they wouldsend him to a school presided over by a woman or a man. It was usual inHalifax for those who preferred the private to the public schools tosend their boys for a year or two to a dame's school as a sort of easyintroduction to school life; and in the very same street as that inwhich the Lloyds lived there was such a school where two rather gauntand grim old-maid sisters aided one another in the application of primerand taws. To this institution Mrs. Lloyd thought it would be well forBert to go. His father had no very decided views to the contrary, but onBert himself being consulted, it became very clear that his mind wasquite made up.
"Please don't send me to 'Old Goggles'' school, father," pleaded he,earnestly.
"'Old Goggles!' Why, Bert, what do you mean by calling Miss Poster bysuch a name as that?"
"It's most disrespectful," interrupted his mother, with a very muchshocked expression, while Mr. Lloyd tried hard, but unsuccessfully, toconceal a smile beneath his moustache.
"Well, mother, that's what they all call her," explained Bert.
"Even though they do, Bert, you should not. Miss Poster is a lady, andyou must act the gentleman toward her," replied Mrs. Lloyd. "But whydon't you want to go to school there? Several boys about your own ageare going."
"Oh, because a lot of girls go there, and I don't want to go to schoolwith girls," was Master Bert's ungallant reply.
Mr. Lloyd, who had evidently been much amused at the conversation, nowjoined in it by drawing Bert toward him and asking, in a half-serious,half-humorous tone:
"Is my boy Bert afraid of little girls?"
Bert's face flushed till it was crimson, and dropping his head upon hisbreast, he muttered:
"I'm not afraid of them, but I don't like 'em, and I don't want to go toschool with 'em."
The fact of the matter was that Bert not only had his full share of therepugnance to the other sex common to all boys of his age, but he hadbesides a strong notion that it was not a manly thing to go to schoolwith girls, and if there was one thing more than another that he aspiredafter, it was manliness.
Mr. Lloyd thoroughly understood his son's feelings, and felt disposed tohumour them. Accordingly, lifting up his head, he gave him a kiss on theforehead, saying:
"Very well, Bert; we'll see about it. Since you have such decidedobjections to Miss Goggles'--I beg her pardon, Miss Poster's--excellentestablishment, I will make inquiry, and see if I cannot find somethingthat will suit you better. I want you to like your school, and to takean interest in it."
Bert's face fairly beamed at these words, and he heaved a huge sigh ofrelief which brought another smile out on his father's countenance.
"You're such a good father," said Bert, hugging his knees, and therethe matter dropped for a few days.
When it came up again, Mr. Lloyd had a new proposition to make. In theinterval he had been making some inquiries, and had been recommended tosend his boy to a school just lately established by an accomplishedyoung lawyer, who had adopted that method of earning an honest pennywhile waiting for his practice to become more lucrative. It was a gooddeal of an experiment, Mr. Lloyd thought but possibly worth trying.
Accordingly, one fine morning in October, behold Master Bert in a ratherperturbed frame of mind trotting along beside his father, who pretendednot to be aware of
his son's feelings, although at the same time seekingin every way to divert him. But it was not with much success. Bert feltthoroughly nervous over the new experience that awaited him. He hadnever seen Mr. Garrison, who was to be his teacher, and imagined him asa tall, thin man with a long beard, a stern face, a harsh voice, and anever-ready "cat-o'-nine tails." As for his future schoolmates, they wereno doubt a lot of rough, noisy chaps, that would be certain to "put himthrough a course of sprouts" before they would make friends with him.
If, then, such thoughts as these filled Bert's mind, it must not bewondered at that he lagged a good deal both as to his talking andwalking, although he was always spry enough with both when out with hisfather. Much sooner than he wished they reached the building, a largerambling stone structure, only one room of which was occupied by theschool; they climbed the broad free-stone staircase to the upper storey,knocked at a door from behind which came a confused hum of voices, andbeing bidden "Come in," entered a big room that at first seemed to Bertto be completely filled by a misty sea of faces with every eye turnedright upon him. He cowered before this curious scrutiny, and but for hisfather's restraining grasp would probably have attempted a wild dash forthe still unclosed door, when he heard his father saying:
"Good-morning, Mr. Garrison; I have brought my boy to place him in yourcare for a while, if you will have him as a pupil." Looking up, Bertbeheld a person approaching very different from the schoolmaster of hisgloomy anticipations.
Mr. Garrison was indeed tall, but there the similarity ended. He wasyouthful, slight, and very attractive in appearance, his manner beingexceedingly graceful and easy, as he came forward with a winning smileupon his countenance, and extending his right hand to Mr. Lloyd, placedthe other upon Bert's shoulder, and said, in a mellow, pleasant voice:
"Good-morning, Mr. Lloyd. I shall be very glad indeed to have your boyin my school, and if he is anything like as good a man as his father,he will make one of my very best pupils."
Mr. Lloyd laughed heartily at this flattering remark.
"Listen to that, Bert," said he. "When you are in any doubt just how tobehave, you have only to ask yourself what I would do under the samecircumstances, and act accordingly." Then, turning to Mr. Garrison, hesaid: "Perhaps you would like me to join your school, too, so as to seta good example to the other boys."
"Right glad would I be to have you, Mr. Lloyd," answered Mr. Garrison,with a cordial smile. "Many a time I find my boys almost too much forone man to handle."
Bert, clinging fast to his father's hand, and half-hoping he was inearnest, felt a pang of disappointment when he replied:
"I'm afraid it's too late, Mr. Garrison. My school-days are past;except so far as I may be able to live them over with this little chaphere. I will leave him with you now; do your best with him. He can learnwell enough when he likes, but he is just as fond of fun as anyyoungster of his age." Then giving Bert an affectionate pat on theshoulder, and whispering in his ear, "Now, be a man, Bert," Mr. Lloydwent away, and Bert followed Mr. Garrison up to the desk, where hisname, age, and address were duly entered in the register book.
The next business was to assign him a seat. A few questions as to whathe knew showed that his proper place was in the junior class of all, andthere accordingly Mr. Garrison led him. A vacancy was found for him in along range of seats, extending from the door almost up to the desk, andhe was bidden sit down beside a boy who had been eyeing him with livelycuriosity from the moment of his entrance into the room. So soon as Mr.Garrison went away, this boy opened fire upon the new-comer.
"Say, sonny, whats yer name?" he asked, with unhesitating abruptness.
Bert looked the questioner all over before replying. He was a short,stout, stubble-haired chap, evidently a year or two older than himself,with a broad, good-humoured face, and the inspection being, upon thewhole, satisfactory, Bert replied, very pleasantly:
"Bert Lloyd--and what's yours?"
Ignoring the question put to him, the other boy gave a sort of gruntthat might be taken as an expression of approval of his new schoolmate'sname, and then said:
"Guess you don't live down our way; never seen you before, that I knowof."
"I live in Fort Street. Where do you live?" replied Bert, givingquestion for question.
"I'm a West-ender," said the other, meaning that his home was in thewestern part of the city.
"But whats your name?" asked Bert again.
"Oh, my name's Frank Bowser," was the careless reply. "But everybodycalls me 'Shorty,' and you may as well, too."
"All right," said Bert. And the two began to feel quite good friends atonce.
As the morning passed, and Bert came to feel more at home, he took inthe details of his surroundings. Mr. Garrison's school consisted of somefifty boys, ranging in age from sixteen downward, Bert being about theyoungest of them all. They all belonged to the better class, and were,upon the whole, a very presentable lot of pupils. Scanning theircountenances curiously as they sat at their desks or stood up in rowsbefore the teacher to recite, Bert noticed more than one face that heinstinctively liked, and, being charmed with Mr. Garrison, and wellpleased with his new friend "Shorty," his first impressions weredecidedly favourable.
He had, of course, nothing to do that morning, save to look about him,but Mr. Garrison gave him a list of books to be procured, and lessons tobe learned in them before the school broke up for the day; and with thisin his pocket he went home in excellent spirits, to tell them all there,how well he had got on his first day in school.
Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia Page 11
