CHAPTER I. SOME INDICATIONS OF A REBELLION.
"What's the use of wearing a uniform? We are not soldiers, and you are not going to make soldiers of us, Captain Gildrock," said Ben Ludlow, when the principal of the Beech Hill Industrial School announced, at the close of the afternoon session, that the students would be required to wear a peculiar dress. "I don't believe in being dressed up like a monkey on a hand organ."
"You can't always tell the monkey by the dress he wears, and some boys insist upon being monkeys in whatever garb they appear," added the principal; for he encouraged them to express their opinions in a gentlemanly manner on all subjects. "Soldiers are not the only class that wear uniforms. They are worn in the navy as well as in the army. I think I have heard no objection from anyone to the sailor rig worn on board of the Sylph."
"I think it is all right when we are on board of the steamer; but who wants to go about Genverres dressed up so that everybody will stop on the sidewalk to look at him?" replied Ben, who spoke confidently, as though he thought he had a first-rate argument.
"As those who have opinions are expected to express them, I must say I think Ludlow is right?" interposed Mr. Brookbine, the master-carpenter. "I believe that, for plain republicans, we are getting altogether too much uniform into our daily life. Why, all the conductors on the steam and horse cars, all the telegraph boys, all the letter-carriers, all the policemen, and in some cities even all the gas men, have to wear uniforms."
"It seems to me very proper that all you have mentioned should wear uniforms," quietly returned the principal.
"I don't think so," answered the carpenter stoutly. "It looks a little too much like the fuss and feathers of monarchical countries for our democratic institutions. I couldn't help laughing when I saw one of the porters of the Bank of England dressed out like a lord high admiral, or Sir Peter Teazle in the play."
"Now you argue against the extravagance of uniforms, and not against uniforms themselves," retorted the principal. "I am in favor of uniforms, but not of ridiculous uniforms. Should you be willing to give your ticket or money to anyone on the train that chose to ask for it, Mr. Brookbine?"
"I don't think I should," laughed the master-carpenter, as he saw the point of the argument. "In fact I remember a case, before uniforms came into fashion, where a smart chap went through a car, and collected several dollars and a handful of tickets, and then left the train, before the conductor put in an appearance. I will give it up on conductors."
"Not many years ago a villain got into a house in one of our large cities, on the plea that he was a gas man; before he left it he had committed a murder. Then the newspapers said the employés of the gas company ought to wear uniforms, so that people could tell whom to admit to their houses. I believe it is now the fashion in that city to wear them. A shrewd boy in Burlington collected a dollar and a half from a lady in the absence of her husband, by delivering her a bogus telegraph despatch."
"I never thought of the matter in this light before, captain," added Mr. Brookbine. "If uniforms are of any use, I don't object to them, certainly."
"But we are not telegraph boys, gas men, or conductors," Ben Ludlow objected.
"No, you are not; but the other day two of our students went into a saloon in Genverres, and each of them drank a glass of lager beer. I don't believe they would have done it if they had worn the uniform of the Beech Hill Industrial School."
This statement produced a decided sensation among the students, and they thought they understood the object which the uniform was expected to accomplish.
"I don't allow any boy to use intoxicating drinks while under my control. If I can't prevent it, I will expel the pupil; for I will not have his ruin on my conscience. I expect every student to have a proper regard for the credit and honor of this school, and conduct himself, wherever he may be, in such a manner as to cast no discredit or dishonor upon it."
Captain Gildrock spoke with more feeling than usual, and his remarks made a deep impression upon the students. They promptly applauded what he had said, thus indicating that they would respect the good name of the institution. The principal did not check their demonstration on the present occasion, and he seemed to be pleased with it.
"The students of the Chesterfield Collegiate Institute, on the other side of the lake, don't wear any uniform," suggested Ben Ludlow, who realized that he had been thoroughly beaten in the argument. "Colonel Buckmill, the principal of the Institute, says that gentlemen, such as his pupils are, don't need uniforms."
"Of course Colonel Buckmill has a perfect right to his own opinion on this subject, as I have to mine," replied Captain Gildrock. "The Chesterfields will wear no uniform, but the Beech Hill students will wear a uniform. I think we need not argue the question any more. The uniform is ready, and you will put it on in the morning. It is merely a plain suit of blue, with our initials on the cap."
Some of the boys did not like the idea of a uniform. Something had been said about it before, and the topic had been discussed in the boats. A few thought it interfered with their independence. It would enable every person in the city to know them at sight.
If they got into mischief, or visited improper places, the uniform would betray them. The principal knew that two of them had drank beer in a saloon: he did not say what further information he had on this subject, and the students were not disposed to prolong the discussion in this direction.
Though they did not like to face the beer question, the boys were disposed to be a little sullen over the new order. They had not been in the school long enough to attain a very high state of discipline, and most of them had wills of their own. A large proportion of them had been in the habit of having their own way, and, to them, wearing a uniform was about the same thing as being placed under guard all the time.
"One thing more," interposed the principal, as the students were about to leave the shop. "As I announced on the day the school was opened, I intend to offer a prize for the best plan of a boat-house, to be erected by the students on the border of Beech Hill Lake. I shall submit the offer the first thing to-morrow morning, after you have put on your uniforms."
The boys had been very much interested in the proposed new house; not so much on account of the accommodations it was to furnish them, as because they were to build the house themselves. Not a few of them had already considered plans for the structure, and the prizes would introduce a new element of excitement. But somehow the announcement fell rather coldly, and some of the pupils were more inclined to get up a rebellion against the new uniform than to compete for the prize.
Captain Gildrock left the shop, and went to the house. He could not help seeing that there was a spirit of disaffection among the students. They did not like the uniform, but the principal regarded it as a necessity, for he believed it would correct some tendencies to rowdyism he had observed among the boys, and especially that it would deter them from entering any disreputable places.
The boys went to the dressing-room, removed their overalls and jumpers, and attended to their ablutions. Little knots of them conversed in low tones about the uniform; but a considerable number of them were sure to be loyal to the principal, and they were careful not to allow their remarks to be heard by such pupils.
The two twelve-oar barges, which had been provided by the principal and brought up to the lake two weeks before, had not yet become an old story. During the past fortnight the two crews had practised nearly every day with the oars, and had made excellent progress.
The two coxswains, Matt Randolph of the Gildrock, and Dory Dornwood of the Winooski, had a conference after every trip in the boats in order to determine what more was to be done for the improvement of the rowing. Captain Gildrock and Luke Bennington often made suggestions to them, but all instruction and discipline in the boats was left to the coxswains. The principal never gave an order except through the proper officer.
The instruction in swimming had been continued on every suitable day, and, as the boys were deeply interested in this amusement, they soon became very expert in the art. The timid ones obtained the necessary confidence, and the shallow waters of Beech Hill Lake were abandoned for those of Champlain itself. The boating and swimming were now combined, and an excursion to Sandy Beach had been arranged for the day.
"Hurry up, fellows; we haven't any too much time, for it is a four-mile pull to Sandy Beach," said Matt Randolph, when he saw that the crew of his boat were thinking of something besides the excursion.
"I don't know that I care about going," replied Lew Shoreham, with a cross-grained look.
"Don't care about going?" exclaimed the coxswain of the Gildrock. "What has come over you fellows?"
"I don't like the idea of being dressed up like a monkey," answered Lew, apparently fanning his discontent.
"And all because a couple of fellows took a glass of beer each," added Bob Swanton.
"I should like to know how many fellows ever took any beer since they joined the school," continued Lew Shoreham. "I never drank any for one."
"I never tasted beer in my life," said Phil Gawner.
"I never tasted it but once in my life, and then it made me as sick as a horse," added Lick Milton.
Several others gave their testimony to the same effect, or declared that they had drank none since they joined the school.
"I see you are trying to get up a rebellion," said Matt Randolph. "I have drank lager beer a few times in New York, but not a drop since I came to this school. I don't object to the uniform, and I think the regulation requiring it is a very reasonable one. But I am not going to jaw about it now. All the Gildrocks to the boat."
"All the Winooskis to the boat," added Dory Dornwood.
About two thirds of the students followed the coxswains to the lake. It looked as though the other third intended to rebel at once, for they remained in the dressing-room after the others had gone.