From School to Battle-field: A Story of the War Days

by Charles King

  CHAPTER V.

  There was something in the friendship between those two members of theFirst Latin not entirely easy for the school to understand. In many waysthey were antitheses,--Snipe, over-long; Shorty, under-sized; Snipe,brown-eyed and taciturn, as a rule; Shorty, blue-eyed and talkative(Loquax was Pop's pet name for him); Snipe was studious; Shorty quick tolearn, but intolerant of drudgery. Both loved play, active exercise, andadventure. Both took naturally to everything connected with the firedepartment, but in addition the smaller boy had a decided love for themilitary, and was a member of the drum corps of a famous organization ofthe old State militia, and vastly proud of it. Snipe loved thefishing-rod, and Shorty had no use for one. Shorty loved drill, Snipecouldn't bear it. Take it all in all, they were an oddly assorted pair,but when forty-eight hours passed without their being in closecommunion something had gone sadly amiss; and that was the case now.

  Everybody knew that Snipe Lawton had little or no money of any kind, butfew knew why. His own father had been dead many years. His mother hadremarried when he was twelve years old, and between the boy and hisstep-father there was no love whatever. Nor was this the boy's fault.Open-hearted, affectionate, and of gentle nature, he had really tried tolike and to win the regard of the man who had won his mother's heart andhad given her an attractive, even a beautiful, home. But there are menwho have no sympathy whatever with boys. Mr. Park was one of these, and,after two years of experiment, gave up trying to understand hisstep-son, and declared that the boy must be sent away to school. It isneedless to describe what those two years were to the mother or to theson. Both welcomed the decision, though it cost the former many tears. Ayounger sister was married and living in New York City. Mr. Park was aColumbiad and a fervent admirer of the great Doctor. It was arrangedthat the boy should have his home under the roof of his aunt, Mrs.Lawrence, and his lessons under Pop. He grew rapidly, and his clotheswere generally short for him. He was shy, sensitive, and hated to askfor money from home, because it had to come from his step-father. Timeand again he could not go to the little social gatherings of hisschoolmates, with whom he became popular almost from the start, solelybecause of his outgrown coat and trousers. His aunt had a houseful ofcompany much of the time; her husband's kindred were numerous andprevalent, and, to tell the truth, she was a little ashamed of the tall,shy, sometimes awkward, if not gawky, boy, whose wrists were always inevidence and whose trousers were so short and shabby. And so it resultedthat poor Snipe had his little bedroom in her garret, which the servantssoon learned they could neglect with impunity, and a place at her tablewhen they were not entertaining company; but home, he really had none.Breakfast was served at the Lawrences' at nine o'clock, but before thattime Snipe was expected to come down to forage for himself and be off toschool and out of the way. Luncheon he could take with him, if he choseto put it up and carry it, but as none of the other boys did this Snipesoon ceased, and one of Duncan's doughnuts was the mid-day sustenance,washed down by a glass of what the Doctor referred to as "copious coldCroton" (the Doctor loved that word copious), and on this rather meagrediet Snipe worried through the day till dinner-time, which with Uncleand Aunt Lawrence was half-after six, and a very hungry boy was he whosilently, even humbly, took his seat among the lively, chattering party(there were always six or eight in the family circle), and, as soon ashis appetite was appeased, was permitted to withdraw, presumably, to hisstudies, though the fact that he was at Shorty's home was alwayscomforting to Aunt Lawrence, for she had great regard for certainfeminine relatives of the smaller boy, and believed that wherever theypresided her nephew could not possibly get into mischief. It is not thatAunt Lawrence was either knowingly neglectful or actively unkind. Shewas a busy woman, a fashionable woman, a woman full of pleasant impulse.She had told George to be sure and come to her whenever anything wentwrong, when he needed advice or aid, or--rather vaguely--anything else.She had told the butler to be sure to see that Master George had coffeeready every morning at quarter-past eight, and the seamstress wasordered to keep his wardrobe in repair, and for a month or so both didas they were bid, and then let Master George look out for himself. Mr.Park had requested Mr. Lawrence to see that George was given fifty centseach Saturday for his spending money, out of which he was to provide hisown shoes and gloves. This was Park's own allowance in the old days whenhe was a boy at the grammar school and Columbia was away down-town,about on line with the City Hall, and the boys lunched sumptuously atShaddle's for thrippence; but Park had not to buy his shoes in thosedays, though he said he bought his gloves out of his little sum. Hesimply argued that it would be good discipline for his step-son to learnto economize. Gloves and shoes cost much less in the ante-bellum daysthan now, and less in Park's school-days than in those of his step-son.George took what was given him silently and without appeal, and duringhis three years at Pop's that was every cent of money he received fromhome. But gloves, he said, he had no use for, and boots were far beyondhim. Furthermore, low shoes, summer and winter both, were best to runin, and not another boy at the Doctor's dreamed of the true state of thecase, unless it was little Shorty, for to that boy the hungry heart ofthe lonely fellow seemed to go out from the start. He, too, was analien; he, too, had left the mother wing to find a nest in the great,thronging city; he, too, was probably not a little in the way, but forhim at least there was warmth and interest and sympathy and kindliness,and many a time and oft did Snipe roost all night long in that snugwhite bed of Shorty's, with no one "at home" the wiser. And many andmany a time had he been made welcome at the bountiful board where Shortysat among an affectionate kindred, and the tall boy's soft brown eyesseemed mutely to thank each member of the big family circle for everypleasant word. They had grown to like him, despite his silence, orperhaps because of it and its contrast with Shorty's chatter. They tookno note of his short-sleeved, skimpy sack-coat or the low shoes at whichBriggs had sneered and other fellows at school had levelled theirwitticisms until they saw it hurt, and then, wonder of wonders, thelatter quit it. With all their impulse for fun and frolic and mischief,Pop's boys had the leaven of gentlemen. Even Hoover had never twittedLawton on the evidences of his poverty, and there were others of thatimmortal twenty-seven little better off than he. In all the First Latin,Briggs had been the only one to continue the torment after the discoverythat it brought pain and distress, and even Briggs no longer dareattempt it when certain of the class were near, for Julian, overhearinghim one day, had called him aside at recess and told him that only amean-spirited whelp would be guilty of such a thing, slapped his face,and invited him into a neighboring stable to fight it out, whichinvitation Briggs declined. Even little Shorty, overhearing Briggs oneday, had flown at him like a young bull-terrier and drawn blood fromBriggs's nose before they could be separated. The class stood up forSnipe most loyally in these days of his early tribulations, and by thetime Second Latin year was over no one seemed to think of his worn andundeniably shabby garb. Snipe himself was "all right," said they. Butthere was lingering venom in the soul of Briggs, and as for Hoover, hissoul was that of Ishmael and his hand against everybody, and when thesetwo crabbed natures drifted together in alliance, offensive anddefensive, it meant trouble for somebody, and there was no fun in theFirst Latin when Tuesday came, for to one and all it was plain thatSnipe Lawton's heart was heavy, and his big brown eyes were full ofnameless misery.

  Twice that morning had Shorty tried to get him aside with sympatheticquestion, but the elder shook his head. There was no time. At recess,when Shorty counted on seeing his chum and hearing the whole story,Lawton never came out at all. John, the janitor, said he was having atalk with Mr. Halsey, trying to get him not to report something to theDoctor, but John himself seemed ill at ease and anxious to avoidquestion. The class communed together and instinctively connected Briggsand Hoover with the mystery, but Hoover had disappointed everybody byremaining away from school that day, and as for Briggs, he was ineverybody's way. Wherever he saw a group in low-toned conference hewould make for it, and by his ve
ry presence and loud-voiced questionsand conjectures put an end to their confidences. Everybody seemed tofeel that when the Doctor came down that afternoon there would be asensation of some kind, and school reassembled after recess and theFirst Latin went to its benches without even accidentally upsetting oneof them. Snipe was sitting at the end of the upper bench lookingdrearily out on the avenue, and Mr. Halsey, with darker face than usual,had taken his accustomed place.

  A spiritless recitation was begun, Snipe losing his head and memory andplace after place. There were boys who knew the answers to questions atwhich he only shook his head and who presently refused to speak and goabove him. Halsey's face grew darker and darker at these evidences ofsympathy. The "next! next! next!" became incessant. Up even towards thehead of the class, above the seat to which the sad-eyed fellow haddrifted, there was no animation. The leaders gave their answers in lowtones, as though to say, "We've got to go through with this, but we'veno heart in it. Snipe's proper place is up here among us." It wasactually a relief to everybody when at last, towards the close of thehour, the Doctor's heavy tread was heard, slow and majestic, ascendingthe wooden stairs.

  It was his custom to halt at the doorway, and from that point of viewsurvey his waiting scholars, the foot of the class coming in forinvariable comment. I can see him now, portly, erect, scrupulously neatand exact in dress from the crown of his deeply weeded high top hat tothe tip of his polished shoes. Clean shaved, the wide upper lip, thebroad massive chin, the great sweep of jaw. Collar, cuffs, andshirt-front immaculate; coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and the broadstock of flawless black. The gold seal dangling from his watch ribbonthe only speck of color, the gold top of his stout, straight, black caneconcealed in his hand. Under their shaggy brows the deep-set gray eyestwinkle, as slowly he lifts the long ferule and points it at theluckless wight on the lowermost bench; then with inquiring gaze sweepsthe line of intent young faces, looking for some one.

  "What!" he says. "Another occupant! Where, then, is the

  '_Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum_'?"

  And at any other day the class, barring Hoover, would have shouted withappreciative joy; but not to-day. Despite Hoover's absence a cloud haslowered over their house. They cannot laugh, even in counterfeited glee,and the Doctor's face changes on the instant as he steps within. He hasnoted Lawton's unusual position and his strange, white face.

  "Anything wrong, Mr. Halsey?"

  The head-master rises and turns to his revered senior. In low tone hesays, so that only one or two can catch the words, "A matter I'll haveto tell you after school, sir." And school must last over an hourlonger. Silently the class exchanges the text-book for Xenophon. TheDoctor's own hour has come, sacred to Greek, and silently the boysretake their places. But the occasion weighs upon the Doctor's mind.Something tells him there is worry ahead, and the sooner it is met thebetter. One expedient never fails him. "How have they done to-day, Mr.Halsey?"

  The head-master purses up his lip. He knows that since recess at least,so far as recitation is concerned, they have done unusually ill; but heknows what the Doctor desires.

  "_Behaved_ rather better than usual, sir."

  "One good turn deserves another," says Pop. "How many young gentlemen ofthe First Latin deserve half holiday? All hands up!" And up go thehands, but with only half the usual alacrity.

  "The ayes have it. The class may retire."

  And slowly the First Latin finds its legs and lingers, for Halseywhispers to Pop, and the latter, with somewhat grayer shade to his face,says, "Lawton will remain."

  The boys dawdle unaccountably about the big bookcase, glancing overtheir shoulders at Lawton, who sits with drooping head and downcast eyesopposite Halsey's table. Briggs, panting a little, slinks through thesilent group to the doorway, and scuttles quickly down the stairs. WhenJoy and Beekman reach the street he is peering round the stable at thecorner, but slips out of sight an instant later. Three or four of theclass, Shorty among them, still hover about the coat-rack. Shorty sayshe can't find his overshoes, which is not remarkable, as he did not wearthem. Halsey is nervously tapping his desk with the butt of his penciland glancing at the dawdlers with ominous eyes. At last the Doctoruplifts his head and voice. He has been looking over some papers on hisdesk.

  "Those young gentlemen at the coat-rack seem reluctant to leave school,Mr. Halsey. Hah! Julian, cestus bearing! Dix, ecclesiasticus! Et tu,puer parvule, lingua longissima!" He pauses impressively, and, raisinghand and pencil, points to the door. "If one of 'em comes back beforeto-morrow, Mr. Halsey, set him to work on Sallust."

  And then the three know enough to stand no longer on the order of theirgoing. Their faces are full of sympathy as they take a farewell peep atSnipe, and Shorty signals to unseeing eyes "I'll wait." And wait thelittle fellow does, a long hour, kicking his heels about the coldpavement without, and then the Second Latin comes tumbling down-stairs,scattering with noisy glee, and marvelling much to see Shorty lookingblue and cold and mournful. He will not answer their questions; he'sonly waiting for Snipe. And another quarter-hour passes, and then for aninstant the boy's eyes brighten, and he springs forward as his tall chumappears at the doorway, cap downpulled over his eyes, coat-collarhunched up to his ears, a glimpse of stocking between the hem of hisscant trousers and those inadequate shoes. But the light goes out asquickly as it came, for with Lawton, similarly bundled up and well-nighas shabby, is the head-master, who silently uplifts his hand and warnsShorty back; then, linking an arm in one of Lawton's, leads him awayaround the corner of Twenty-fifth Street.

  It is more than the youngster can stand. Long-legged Damon, short-leggedPythias, the two have been friends since Third Latin days and chums forover a year. Shorty springs after the retreating forms, but halts shortat sound of his name, called in imperative tone from above. At the openwindow stands the Doctor gazing out. He uses no further words. His righthand is occupied with his snowy cambric handkerchief. With his left hemakes two motions. He curves his finger inward, indicating plainly"Come back!" and then with the index points down the avenue, meaning asplainly "Go!" and there is no cheery, undignified whistle as Shortyhastens to tell his tale of sorrow to sympathetic ears at home.