CHAPTER XI.
SCHOOL LIFE AT MR. GARRISON'S.
Bert had not been long at Mr. Garrison's school before he discoveredthat it was conducted on what might fairly be described as"go-as-you-please" principles. A sad lack of system was its chiefcharacteristic. He meant well enough by his pupils, and was constantlymaking spurts in the direction of reform and improvement, but as oftenfalling back into the old irregular ways.
The fact of the matter was that he not only was not a schoolmaster byinstinct, but he had no intention of being one by profession. He hadsimply adopted teaching as a temporary expedient to tide over afinancial emergency, and intended to drop it so soon as his object wasaccomplished. His heart was in his profession, not in his school, andthe work of teaching was at best an irksome task, to be got through witheach day as quickly as possible. Had Mr. Lloyd fully understood this, hewould never have placed Bert there. But he did not; and, moreover, hewas interested in young Mr. Garrison, who had had many difficulties toencounter in making his way, and he wished to help him.
In the first place, Mr. Garrison kept no record of attendance, either ofthe whole school, or of the different classes into which it was divided.A boy might come in an hour after the proper time, or be away for awhole day without either his lateness or his absence being observed. Asa consequence "meeching"--that is, taking a holiday without leave fromeither parents or teachers--was shamefully common. Indeed, there washardly a day that one or more boys did not "meech." If by any chancethey were missed, it was easy to get out of the difficulty by makingsome excuse about having been sick, or mother having kept them at hometo do some work, and so forth. Schoolboys are always fertile in excuses,and, only too often, indifferent as to the quantity of truth these maycontain.
Another curious feature of Mr. Garrison's system, or rather lack ofsystem, was that he kept no record of the order of standing in theclasses; and so, when the class in geography, for instance, was calledto recite, the boys would come tumbling pell-mell out of their seats,and crowd tumultuously to the space in front of the desk, with theinvariable result that the smaller boys would be sent to the bottom ofthe class, whether they deserved to be there or not. Then as to thehearing of the lesson, there was absolutely no rule about it. Sometimesthe questions would be divided impartially among the whole class.Sometimes they would all be asked of a single boy, and if he happened toanswer correctly,--which, however, was an extremely rareoccurrence,--the class would be dismissed without one of the othersbeing questioned.
Another peculiarity of Mr. Garrison's was his going out on business foran hour or more at a time, and leaving the school in charge of one ofthe older boys, who would exercise the authority thus conferred upon himin a lax and kindly, or severe and cruel manner, according to hisdisposition. One of the boys generally chosen for this duty was a big,good-hearted fellow named Munro; another was an equally big, butsour-dispositioned chap named Siteman; and whenever Mr. Garrison showedsigns of going out, there was always intense excitement among the boys,to see who would be appointed monitor, and lively satisfaction, or deepdisappointment, according to the choice made.
It was a little while, of course, before Bert found all this out, and inthe meantime he made good headway in the school, because his father tookcare that his lessons were well learned every evening before he went tobed; and Mr. Garrison soon discovered that whoever else might fail,there was one boy in Bert's classes that could be depended upon for aright answer, and that was Bert himself.
There was another person who noticed Bert's ready accuracy, and that was"Shorty" Bowser.
"Say, Bert," said he one day, "how is that you always have your lessonsdown so fine? You never seem to trip up at all."
"Because father always sees that I learn 'em," answered Bert. "If Idon't learn 'em in the evening, I've got to do it before breakfast inthe morning."
"I wish my dad 'ud do as much for me; but he don't seem to care a centwhether I ever learn 'em or not," said poor Shorty, ruefully. For he waspretty sure to miss two out of every three questions asked him, and Mr.Garrison thought him one of his worst scholars.
"Won't your mother help you, then?" asked Bert, with interest.
"Got no mother," was the reply, while Shorty's eyes shone suspiciously."Mother's been dead this good while."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Bert, in tones of genuine sympathy that wentright to Frank Bowser's heart, and greatly strengthened the liking hehad felt from the first for his new schoolmate.
It was not long before he gave proof of what he thought of Bert in avery practical way. They were for the most part in the same classes, andit soon became evident that Shorty felt very proud of his friend'saccuracy at recitation. That he should remain at the foot while Bertworked his way up steadily toward the head of the class, did not arousethe slightest feeling of jealousy in his honest heart; but, on thecontrary, a frank admiration that did him infinite credit.
But it was just the other way with Bob Brandon, an overgrown, lanky boy,who seemed to have taken a dislike to Bert from the first, and seizedevery opportunity of acting disagreeably toward him. Being so muchsmaller, Bert had to endure his slights as best he could, but he foundit very hard, and particularly so that Bob should prevent him fromgetting his proper place in his class. Again and again would Bert passBob, who, indeed, rarely knew his lessons; but so sure as the classreassembled, Bob would roughly shoulder his way toward the top and Bertwould have to take a lower position, unless Mr. Garrison happened tonotice what was taking place and readjusted matters, which, however, didnot often occur.
This sort of thing had been going on for some time, until at last oneday Bert felt so badly over it that when he went back to his seat heburied his head in his hands and burst out crying, much to the surpriseof Shorty, who at once leaned over and asked, with much concern:
"What's the matter, Bert? Missed your lesson?"
Bert checked his tears and told his trouble.
"Sho! that's what's the matter, hey? I guess I'll fix Bob as sure as myname's Bowser."
"What'll you do?" asked Bert. "Tell the master?"
"No, sir. No tattling for me," replied Shorty, vigorously. "I'll justpunch his head for him, see if I don't."
And he was as good as his word. Immediately after the dismissal of theschool, while the boys still lingered on the playground, Shorty stalkedup to Bob Brandon, and told him if he didn't stop shoving Bert Lloyd outof his proper place in the classes he would punch his head. Whereat BobBrandon laughed contemptuously, and was rewarded with a blow on the facethat fairly made him stagger. Then, of course, there was a fight, theboys forming a ring around the combatants, and Bert holding hischampion's coat and hat, and hardly knowing whether to cry or to cheer.The fight did not last long. Bob was the taller, but Frank the stouterof the two. Bob, like most bullies, was a coward, but Frank was asplucky as he was strong. Burning with righteous wrath, Frank went at hisopponent hammer and tongs, and after a few minutes' ineffective parryingand dodging, the latter actually ran out of the ring, thoroughly beaten,leaving Frank in possession of the field, to receive the applause of hiscompanions, and particularly of Bert, who gave him a warm hug, sayinggratefully:
"Dear, good Shorty. I'm so glad you beat him."
That fight united the two boys in firmer bonds of friendship than ever,especially as it proved quite effective so far as Bob Brandon wasconcerned, as he needed no other lesson. It was curious how Bert andFrank reacted upon one another. At first the influence proceeded mainlyfrom Bert to Frank, the latter being much impressed by his friend'sattention to his lessons and good behaviour in school, and somewhatstirred up to emulate these virtues. But after Bert had been going tothe school for some little time, and the novelty had all worn off, hebegan to lose some of his ardour and to imitate Frank's happy-go-luckycarelessness. Instead of being one of the first boys in the school of amorning, he would linger and loiter on the playground until he would beamong those who were the last to take their places. He also began totake less interest in his lessons, and in h
is standing in the classes,and but for the care exercised at home would have gone to school veryill prepared.
Frank Bowser was not by any means a bad boy. He had been carelesslybrought up, and was by nature of rather a reckless disposition, but hegenerally preferred right to wrong, and could, upon the whole, betrusted to behave himself under ordinary circumstances, at all events.His influence upon Bert, while it certainly would not help him much,would not harm him seriously. He did get him into trouble one day,however, in a way that Bert was long in forgetting.
The winter had come, and over in one corner of the playground was aslide of unusual length and excellence, upon which the Garrison boys hadfine times every day before and after school. Coming up one morningearly, on purpose to enjoy this slide, Bert was greatly disappointed tofind it in possession of a crowd of roughs from the upper streets, whoclearly intended to keep it all to themselves so long as they pleased.While Bert, standing at a safe distance, was watching the usurpers withlonging eyes, Shorty came up, and, taking in the situation, said:
"Let 'em alone, Bert; I know of another slide just as good, a couple ofsquares off. Let's go over there."
"But, isn't it most school time?" objected Bert.
"Why, no," replied Shorty. "There's ten minutes yet. Come along." Andthus assured, Bert complied.
The slide was farther away than Shorty had said, but proved to be verygood when they did reach it, and they enjoyed it so much that the timeslipped away unheeded, until presently the town clock on the hill abovethem boomed out ten, in notes of solemn warning.
"My sakes!" exclaimed Bert, in alarm. "There's ten o'clock. What will wedo?"
"Guess we'd better not go to school at all. Mr. Garrison will never missus," suggested Shorty.
"Do you mean to meech?" asked Bert, with some indignation.
"That's about it," was the reply. "What's the harm?"
"Why, you know it ain't right; I'm not going to do it if you are." AndBert really meant what he said.
But, as luck would have it, on their way back to the school, what shouldthey meet but that spectacle, one of the most attractive of the winter'ssights in the eyes of a Halifax schoolboy, a fireman's sleigh drive.Driving gaily along the street, between lines of spectators, came sleighafter sleigh, drawn by four, six, or even eight carefully matched andbrightly decked horses, and filled to overflowing with the firemen andtheir fair friends, while bands of music played merry tunes, to whichthe horses seemed to step in time.
Bert and Shorty had of course to stop and see this fine sight, and itchanced that when it was about one-half passed, one of the big eighthorse teams got tangled up with a passing sleigh, and a scene ofconfusion ensued that took a good while to set right. When at length allwas straightened out, and the procession of sleighs had passed, Shortyasked a gentleman to tell him the time.
"Five minutes to eleven, my lad," was the startling reply.
Shorty looked significantly at Bert. "Most too late now, don't youthink?"
Bert hesitated. He shrank from the ordeal of entering the crowdedschoolroom, and being detected and punished by Mr. Garrison, in thepresence of all the others. Yet he felt that it would be better to dothat than not go to school at all--in other words, meech.
"Oh, come along, Bert," said Shorty; "old Garrison can do without usto-day."
Still Bert stood irresolute.
"Let's go down and see the big steamer that came in last night,"persisted Shorty, who was determined not to go to school, and to keepBert from going too.
Yielding more to Shorty's influence than to the attraction of thesteamer, Bert gave way, and spent the rest of the morning playing about,until it was the usual time for going home.
He said nothing at home about what he had done, and the next morningwent back to school, hoping, with all his heart, that his absence hadnot been noted, and that no questions would be asked.
But it was not to be.
Soon after the opening of the school when all were assembled and quietobtained, Mr. Garrison sent a thrill of expectation through the boys bycalling out, in severe tones, while his face was clouded with anger:
"Frank Bowser and Cuthbert Lloyd come to the desk."
With pale faces and drooping heads the boys obeyed, Frank whispering inBert's ear as they went up:
"Tell him you were kept at home."
Trembling in every nerve, the two culprits stood before their teacher.Mr. Garrison was evidently much incensed. A spasm of reform had seizedhim. His eyes had been opened to the prevalence of "meeching," and hedetermined to put a stop to it by making an example of the presentoffenders. He had missed them both from school the day before, andsuspected the cause.
"Young gentlemen," said he, in his most chilling tones, "you were absentyesterday. Have you any reason to give?"
Frank without answering looked at Bert, while the whole school heldtheir breath in suspense. Bert remained silent. It was evident that asharp struggle was going on within. Becoming impatient, Mr. Garrisonstruck the desk with his hands, and said, sternly:
"Answer me this moment. Have you any excuse?"
With a quick, decided movement, Bert lifted his head, and lookingstraight into Mr. Garrison's face with his big brown eyes, said,clearly:
"No, sir. I meeched."
Quite taken aback by this frank confession, Mr. Garrison paused amoment, and then, turning to Frank, asked:
"And how about you, sir?"
Without lifting his head, Frank muttered, "I meeched, too," in tonesaudible only to his questioner.
So pleased was Mr. Garrison with Bert's honesty, that he would have beenglad to let him off with a reprimand; but the interests of gooddiscipline demanded sterner measures. Accordingly, he called to one ofhis monitors:
"Munro, will you please go over to the Acadian School and get thestrap?"
For be it known that Mr. Garrison shared the ownership of a strap withhis brother, who taught a school in an adjoining block, and had to sendfor it when a boy was to be punished.
While Munro was gone, Bert and Frank stood before the desk, both feelingdeeply their position, and dreading what was yet to come. When Munroreturned, bearing the strap--a business-like looking affair, about twofeet in length--Mr. Garrison laid it on the desk, and seemed veryreluctant to put it in use. At length, overcoming his disinclination, herose to his feet, and, taking it up, said:
"Cuthbert Lloyd, come forward!"
Bert, his head drooping upon his breast, and his face flushed and paleby turns, moved slowly forward. Grasping the strap, Mr. Garrison raisedit to bring it down upon Bert's outstretched hand, when suddenly athought struck him that brought a look of immense relief to hiscountenance, and he arrested the movement. Turning to the boys, who werewatching him with wondering eyes, he said:
"Boys, I ask for your judgment. If Bert and Frank say, before you all,that they are sorry for what they have done, and will promise never todo it again, may I not relieve them of the whipping?"
A hearty and unanimous chorus of "Yes, sir," "Yes, sir," came from theschool at once.
"Now, my lads, do you hear that?" continued Mr. Garrison in a kindlytone, turning to the two offenders. "Will you not say you are sorry, andwill never meech again."
"I am sorry, and promise never to do so again," said Bert, in a cleardistinct voice, as the tears gathered in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, and won't do it again," echoed Frank, in a lower tone.
"That's right, boys," said Mr. Garrison, his face full of pleasure. "Iam sure you mean every word of it. Go to your seats now, and we willresume work."
It took the school some little time to settle down again after thisunusual and moving episode, the effect of which was to raise both Mr.Garrison and Bert a good deal higher in the estimation of every onepresent, and to put a check upon the practice of "meeching" that wentfar toward effecting a complete cure.
Although the result had been so much better than he expected, Bert felthis disgrace keenly, and so soon as he got home from school he told thewhole story f
rom the start to his mother, making no excuses for himself,but simply telling the truth.
His mother, of course, was very much surprised and pained, but knew wellthat her boy needed no further reproaches or censure to realise the fullextent of his wrong-doing. Bidding him, therefore, seek forgiveness ofGod as well as of her, she said that she would tell his father all aboutit, which was a great relief to Bert, who dreaded lest he should have toperform this trying task himself; and so the matter rested for thetime.
Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia Page 12
