Fun in the Dormitories.
George Fulton, an "American boy," as they designated those who had come from the "States," was always talking of the fun he had when at boarding school near home. One day he called together six friends whom he could trust: "Say you French fellows; you're too tame," said George. "You ought to see the fun we had in the dormitories at the school I went to in the 'States.' Tonight the Brothers hold a special council, they will meet in the Chapel, which being on the other side of the Campus, will prevent their hearing us if we have a little 'Shindig' in our dormitory." "What's a 'Shindig,'" asked Leonce de Vean. "Something you knock de shins?" "Ha, ha, you little French Crapeaud. I forgot you kids don't understand English slang, but you'll see what it is tonight."
As he was entering the Study Hall, Bolax saw Harrison and laughingly told him there was to be an awful "lark" in the dormitory. "We're going to have no end of fun." "Are you?" said Harrison. "Well if it gets amusing, come to my room and tell me, and I'll go down and look on."
It was Brother Isadore's night on duty. He walked slowly up and down the range of the dormitories until every boy seemed ready to get into bed, then he put out all the candles (there was no gas to be had and the Brothers would not trust coal-oil lamps to boys). So long as they were under surveillance, the boys observed the utmost quiet and decorum. All continued in order until Brother Isadore passed out through the lavatory, one of the boys following him as a scout, had seen the last glimmer of his hand-lamp disappear around the corner at the foot of the staircase, and heard the library door close behind him.
After that, as Brother Director was obliged to preside at the Council, the boys knew they were safe from disturbance, and the occupants of the large dormitory were the first to stir.
"Now for some fun," said George, starting up, and by the way of initiative, pitching his pillow at Bolax's head.
"I'll pay you for that when I'm ready," said Bo, laughing, "but let us light a few candles first; however, it's bright moonlight, maybe we had better not light up, some one outside might notice our illumination."
Several fellows from the dormitory came on the scene with their sconces lit, these they placed so as not to show through the windows. Then the boys began all sorts of amusements, some in their night shirts, others with their trousers slipped on. Leapfrog was the prevalent game for the time, but at last Henry de la Tour suggested theatricals, and they were agreed on.
"But we're making a regular knock-me-down shindig," said Fulton, "somebody must keep guard."
"Oh, old Brother Isadore is safe enough in the Chapel; no fear of disturbing him if we were dancing Jim Crow," answered Bolax.
However it was considered safest to put some one at the top of the stairs in case of an unexpected diversion in that direction, and little Leonce consented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory door open and stand at the top of the staircase, then he commanded for a great distance the only avenue in which danger was expected.
If any Brother's lamp appeared in the hall, the boys had full three minutes' warning and a single loudly whispered "cache-cache" would cause them to "lay low," so that by the time of their adversary's arrival they would, of course, be all fast asleep in bed, some snoring in an alarming manner.
So at the top of the stairs stood little Leonce shoeless and shivering in his night shirt, but keenly entering into the fun.
Meanwhile the rest were getting up a representation of the "Grande Duchesse" pushing the beds together for a stage and dressing up the actors in the most fantastic apparel. Fulton took the part of the Grande Duchess and sang "Voici le sabre de mon père, Tu vas le mettre a ton coté," etc. All joined in the chorus as loud as they dared.
Bolax made a famous "General Boome," because he was so stout; his costume consisted of his night shirt, with a red woolen scarf around his waist; on his head was a crimson silk handkerchief, which was very stiff and stood up in a point. His cheeks were covered with corked whiskers and mustaches. He sang:
Piff, Paff, Pouf,
Rut-a-pat-a poom,
Je suis moi le Génèrale Boome!
I am the great General Boome!
while he strutted up and down the aisle with a dust brush for a sword.
"I say," said Leonce, "it is very cold standin' here, won't some one relieve guard?" After waiting a few minutes longer, he felt sure there was no danger, and therefore ran up to Harrison's room.
"What's up," asked Harrison. "Oh, we've been having leap-frog and 'La Grande Duchesse.' I'm keeping 'guard,' but it's so cold, I thought I'd run up to your study."
"Little traitor, we'll shoot you for a deserting sentinel."
"There's no danger of being caught; besides, the fellows are making less row now."
"Well, let us go down. I want to see the fun, too."
Fulton, as Grande Duchesse, was draped artistically in a sheet, which trailed behind him, while a blue scarf decked his fair head. Placing himself in an attitude of intensely affected melodrama he was singing:
Je T'ai Sur Mon Coeur, etc.
I have thee near my heart.
Suddenly his foot caught in his long trail and landed him on his back. This scene tickled the audience immensely, and was greeted with shouts of laughter. "Cache-cache!" shouted Leonce and took a flying leap into his bed.
Instantly there was a bolt in different directions; the candles dashed out, the beds pushed aside, and the dormitories at once plunged in profound silence, only broken by heavy breathing of the sleepers, when in strode Brother Director.
He stood for a moment to survey the scene. Every boy was in bed, but the extraordinary way in which the bed clothes were huddled about, told an unmistakable tale.
As the Brother for a moment crossed over to the lavatory, he heard some one move. "Who's there?" said he. It was Harrison trying to sneak back to his room; seeing he was caught, he came before his angry master. "Harrison, is it? I am not surprised, go to your room, I will settle with you tomorrow."
Passing again into the large dormitory, Brother heard nothing but the deep snores of Fulton, and instantly fixed on him as the chief culprit. "Fulton."
No reply, but steady music from that Worthy's bed. "Fulton!" he called still louder and more sternly; "you sleep soundly, sir, too soundly, get up directly," and he laid his hand on the boy's arm.
"Allez-vous en, ce n'est pas encore temps de se lever." [Get away from here, it's not time to get up.]
"You speak very good French when you're asleep, but the shamming will only increase your punishment." The wiley Fulton stretched himself lazily, gave a great yawn, and then awoke with such an admirably feigned start at seeing Brother Director, that Bolax who had been peeping from over the bed clothes, burst into an irresistible explosion of laughter. The Brother swung round on his heel. "What! Allen! get out of bed, sir, this instant." Bolax forgetful of his disguise sheepishly obeyed, but when he stood on the floor, he looked so odd in his crimson girdle and corked cheeks, with the light of Brother's lamp shining on him, that the scene became overpoweringly ludicrous to Fulton, who now in his turn was convulsed with a storm of laughter faintly echoed from other beds.
"Très bien mes amis," (very well, my friends!) was Brother Director's sarcastic remark, for he was now thoroughly angry, "you will hear from me tomorrow." He then walked away with a heavy step.
Next morning, Mass was no sooner over than the boys were summoned to the Study Hall. Brother Director began with: "I have a few words to say to you.
"I find there was the utmost disorder in the dormitories last night. Candles were lighted at forbidden hours, and the noise was so great that it was heard through the whole building. I am grieved to see you cannot be left alone even for a few hours without taking advantage of my absence, and that some of the older boys, far from using their influence to prevent those infractions of discipline, seem inclined to join in them themselves, forgetting their position in school and abetting the follies of children. You, Mr. Harrison, shall be deprived of a privilege which you have abused, as a punishment for your conduct last night, you will give up your private study until the end of the term.
"Fulton as the ringleader ought to be caned, but as this is his first year, I will give him instead three days in the Cachot.
"Allen and the other little fellows who were led by him, shall be deprived of recreation for one week. Now, boys, just let me ask you if you have not enough legitimate pleasures without resorting to such fooleries as that of last night?
"In our schools the Brothers make it a practice to enter into all amusements with our pupils. This summer Fulton and the other American boys saw how we went rowing with you, we join in your football games, we even play marbles with the little fellows, but how would a Christian Brother look dressed up as Master Allen was last night?" Here there was a perceptible smile on Brother Director's face, which gave license for a general titter from those who had seen the costume of "General Boome." "Now we, as Christian Brothers, are bound to teach all who come under our jurisdiction to be Christian gentlemen, and we use our best endeavors to that end.
"We want all to be happy with us, no boy must remain in this College who considers he is treated unjustly or harshly, but we will not allow our rules to be broken or our authority set aside on any consideration.
"Now you may all go to breakfast."
After breakfast Honoré Bernier and several of the French boys congratulated the "Americans" on getting off with so slight a punishment. You may thank your stars it is Brother Benedict, who is Director, he is so lenient; if you had been here in Brother John's time you would all have gotten a dose of Extract of Rattan.
October 31st.
Dear Mother: Our whole dormitory got into a scrape for "cutting up shines" when we should have been asleep. I did not realize how foolish it was to take fun out of time, until Monsieur Le Curé gave me advice on the matter.
I promised him I would keep all the rules in the future and try for the medal. I have started in, and although I find it hard work to keep from mischief, I manage to save my fun for recreation hour.
I have joined the Society of St. Aloysius; that means great watchfulness over myself to keep from offending God in the least manner.
Darling Mother, I hope you will have reason some day to be proud of your loving son,
B. Allen.
[CHAPTER XV.]
Letter From a Friend.
Palm Beach, November 1st.
Dear Master Bolax: When you receive this letter you will say who is this lady? I never knew her, so I must introduce myself. I am a very old friend of your mother's; we were schoolmates. When you were a tiny baby I saw you and held you in my arms, since then I have been traveling in Europe and did not see your dear mother until we met down here. We often walk out together, and talk of old times, but Mamma's chief topic of conversation is her "boy." You are the core of your mother's heart, and she so hopes to be able to say as you grow older, "This is my blessed boy, is he not noble? I am so proud of him," and you will feel all the nobleness of your nature grow greater, for any boy who can write such sweet, tender letters has the Christ Child in his heart and cannot go far wrong; only you let the little Pixie, a very tormenting spirit, sit on your shoulder at times, and that is the trouble; just you work him off and keep him off; his name is "Lack of Application," and he whispers in your right ear, "don't study hard, let's have some fun; you'll get on somehow."
Then "Lack of Application" has a little sister, who is just as mischievous, her name is: "Procrastination," with these two little Elves so close, and keeping them as constant companions is the cause of all our trouble. If you will whisper to the dear Christ Child to drive them off, and help you to put the cobbles of determination in their place, you will find your pathway full of sunshine.
The Brothers, your instructors, do not mean to be severe, but are trying to help you drive away these two spirits with whom you have struck up such a great friendship.
Now, my dear boy, you have great talent; study that you may be one of the great men and you will find those you think are "hard" upon you are your best friends and helpers.
For your mother's sake, who loves you better than her life, make pleasure your friend for your hours of leisure, but let Brain, Heart and Hands work during working hours. Seek all the knowledge that you now have the chance of obtaining for the more you know of French, Music, Mathematics and general knowledge, the greater are your chances of success.
I think I hear you say: "Why did this lady write to me? She don't know me." Oh, yes, she does, from your letters, and your mother's description of you.
I love boys. I have had one of my own; I know all about their funny tricks. I used to wish I had been a boy myself.
Once when a little girl, I kicked and yelled for an hour because I was not permitted to climb a chestnut tree, and set traps for rabbits and play shinney with the boys. Now don't you think I know something, having gone through all this.
I think a letter from you to me would be a fine thing. We might have a tilt or two with the pen and brain, if not with the sword and lance.
As your dear mother tells me you have a loving, kind heart. I send you a portion of the love I give her and ask you to call me,
Aunt Anna Euhler.
L'Islet, P. Q., December 8th.
Darling Mother: Your sweet letter was received yesterday and my heart beat with joy on seeing it.
Brother will let me have all the books and papers you can send. I would like to renew my subscription to Harper's Young People. I have read all dear Father Finn's books over again, and enjoyed them as I did the first time. I know you are under great expense on account of Papa's illness, so do not exert yourself trying to send me Christmas money, if it becomes necessary I will do without going anywhere or getting anything.
There will be a few boys here to stay over Christmas and New Year, so I will have a little fun, although not as much as if I went to Quebec, St. Anne, St. Eugene's, Cape St. Ignac or Trois Pistolets.
Brother Director has told the Brother who cooks to clean the butter for me, he will put it in water and mash it, thus withdrawing the salty taste and black particles.
I now have a book called "Horsfield's Method of Learning French Language," and I think it will help me very much. It has the French on top and the English underneath, as:
Il est fou, etc.,
He is fool.
It also has conversation, as:
Vous avez des cheveuz rouge,
You have the hairs red.
Don't you wish I could write as well as the fellow who addressed this envelope? The strongest boy in the school is Adolph Bernier, and he is one of my best friends. If he had the nerve of Dr. Carroll he could lick the world.
His muscle is almost three times as large as Doctor's, and his legs about eighteen inches round.
The wind howls around here, and the snow is above the fences. We walk on it with snow shoes.
My love to Papa. Could you send me some alligator's eggs?
Your loving son,
Bolax.
Palm Beach, December.
My Noble, Generous Boy: Your letter touched Papa to the heart, but there will be no necessity for your making such a sacrifice.
It would grieve me to have my child so far away from home, without the means for having a pleasant Christmas. Uncle wrote to say he would attend to your holiday pleasures, and Papa now sends ten dollars.
We laughed so heartily at your description of how the butter was washed for your benefit.
Dearie, do you remember the stories old Colonel O'Brien used to tell us of his campaign during the Civil War? How once he was nearly forty-eight hours without food, and was glad to eat an old piece of ham-fat, which he saw a darkey throw out on the grass as he rode past?
Colonel told us it was the spirit of self-control he had learned while at College that enabled him to bear hunger, cold, privations of all kinds, while in the army. Of course, the food is not expected to be as dainty as at home, but it is always wholesome; no Catholic College would give bad food to the children entrusted to its care. I tried to get the alligator's eggs, but the darkies tell me that it is a hard matter to find them; one old fellow told me: "Dem ugly beasteses loves dere young like de dogs and cats do, dey hide dere eggs and watches round when de time comes for de little ones to be hatched out; you don't better be near at dat time hunten' eggs or young ones, de mudder would snap you up in half a minute."
I have some curious shells which I will give you when I see you; they would only be destroyed among so many boys, if I sent them.
Pray for Papa, not forgetting your loving mother.
P. S.—You ask me to describe Palm Beach, so I send the advertising pamphlet. The description given therein is a perfect pen-picture of the place, much better than I can give. I am Papa's amanuensis and he has so many business letters to send I have little time for other writing, with love,
Mamma.
December 29.
Bien Chère Maman: Such a happy Christmas as I have had. At midnight I was awakened by the Parish Church bells chiming the Adeste Fidelis.
The Midnight Mass was celebrated in the College Chapel, because the snow is so deep, Monsieur Le Curé had announced to the Congregation that the grand High Mass would be at 6 A. M. in the Parish Church.
I assisted at the Mass in the Chapel. It was my first Midnight Mass, and I felt awed by the solemn ceremony.
The grand High Mass was sung by four gentlemen from Quebec. Brother would not let me get up for it, but I attended Vespers in the evening; they had the same choir as at the morning service, with a band of music.
At nine o'clock we were invited to breakfast in the Brothers' dining room. At each "cover" was a box of bonbons from Brother Director and our letters from home.
Dear Ma! I was so surprised I cried. I opened your dear letter first, really I don't know how to thank you and dear Papa.
Aunt Lucy and Uncle Carroll sent me ten dollars, Uncle Dick, five. I feel as rich as a millionaire, with my twenty-five dollars.
January 20.
Dear Mamma and Papa: As I was writing the above, Monsieur Le Curé sent for me to go with him to Quebec. You may be sure I jumped at the offer.
We put up at the Sulpician Seminary. We went to see several beautiful churches.
Notre Dame de Victoire, built in the time of Louis XIV as a votive offering in thanksgiving for a victory gained over the English.
The very same flags and trophys captured then are still preserved in this church.
We saw the ice palace, on the summit of a hill, it was illuminated by electricity, and reminded me of Aladin's Castle in the fairy tale.
No one was allowed to go into it, but you could look in at the windows and doors, and see the wax figures dressed in fancy costumes.
You should have heard the joy bells, and the booming of the cannon from the citadel ushering in the New Year.
There was no discordant clang, no ear-splitting fog horns as in New York, but most of the churches having chimes, made an inspiriting melody.
The Basilica played the Te Deum, Adeste Fidelis, and the National Anthem.
We had midnight Mass in the Seminary, and no one went to bed until near morning.
I must tell you about a little girl we met in the street. She was carrying a doll in her arms when she slipped and fell; the doll was broken to pieces, the poor little thing knelt on the pavement and looked sadly at it, then bursting into tears and raising her eyes to heaven, she cried out: "Sainte Vièrge mon seul enfant est mort!" (Holy Virgin, my only child is dead!)
It went to my heart to see her, so I picked her up, and tried to comfort her; I took her to the nearest shop and bought another "child," when I placed it in her hands, her eyes fairly danced with delight. "Oh, mesieu! I tank yo! No English speak."
Monsieur Le Curé gave her his blessing. As she was leaving the store she took up the broken doll, we asked her what she wanted with the old, broken thing. "Ah, mesieu, one does not throw away dead children; they must be buried."
The people here are so full of faith; you will see well-dressed gentlemen and ladies stop to say the Angelus in the street if they hear the bell ring.
I pray our dear Lord, that you, Papa, and all I love may have a happy New Year.
Your affectionate son,
B. Allen.
After Christmas holidays it was difficult for the boys to settle down to study. The good Brothers, who had not forgotten their own boy-life, understood this and did not draw the reins of discipline very tight for the first few days.
Brother Director made a very pleasant and sensible address to the juniors on the duty and benefits of being diligent in study. At the close of his "talk," as he termed it, he said:
"And now boys, I have something to offer you by the way of spurring your diligence. Three beautiful silver medals have been placed in my hands by three gentlemen living in Quebec. These medals are for your competition. If they were intended as rewards, I would not be a party to their bestowal. I want my pupils to feel that hard, honest study carries its own reward with it. Study puts you in possession of knowledge, which is power, strength, influence and pleasure.
"These are rewards to satisfy any virtuous boy without the addition of gifts. Boys of your age lag a little sometimes, and perhaps need something tangible to help them on. I hope these medals will keep you all up to your mettle, and that although only three of you can win them, all will prove yourselves worthy of them. One is for keeping the rules of the College. One for Composition—English or French. One for him who shall pass the best examination in all branches of study.
"You are now dismissed until tomorrow morning, when I shall expect you to be ready to begin work in earnest."
The boys set up a grand huzza for Brother Director, and then dividing into groups were soon scattered over the grounds or seated under the sugar maple trees.
All the boys made determined resolutions to win the prize. Bolax was especially anxious, because his father had objected to his coming to Canada, and he wanted to show that his mother's choice of a College was a success.