CHAPTER XIV.
PHIL'S FIGHT.
The first of September found the boys all at home again, after their summer fun and wanderings. Phil had been visiting his grandmother in Vermont; Sam had gone with his family to Newport, where his boyish soul was greatly tried by their attempts to live in a truly fashionable manner; Bert had been in Western New York, visiting some farmer friends, who feasted him on milk and honey, and let him go fishing and ride the horses bareback, to his heart's content; while poor Ted was left to pine at home. But every joy has its accompanying sorrow, and glad as they were to be together once more, the immediate prospect of school was a cause for mourning. To Fred, it seemed strange to hear the other five boys bemoaning their fate, when he so wished he could go back into school again, and he could scarcely realize that only lately he had shared their feelings. He needed no urging to return to his pleasant lessons with Bess; but the others, who had so many more resources, were by no means reconciled, and the first Monday in September saw them walking slowly, very slowly, towards the schoolhouse, with their books in their hands and rage in their hearts.
All of us who have been boys know how hard it is to leave all the frolics and idle enjoyment of the long vacation, to sit for five hours a day in a close room, amid the buzz of voices, and, with warm, sticky hands, turn over the leaves of the books that never before seemed half so prosy and dull—since last September. How all the out-door sounds that come in at the open windows, the notes of the birds, the hum of the passing voices, the distant bark of our own Nep or Rover, even the whir of a mowing machine in the next yard, tempt us to throw aside the lessons, and, braving the whipping that we know must certainly follow, to run out at the door, down the stairs, and into the clear yellow sunshine that was surely created for boys to enjoy themselves in! And how all the memories of the summer fun will come into our minds, replacing the War of 1812 with a boat-race, and making the puzzling mysteries of the binomial theorem give place to an imaginary brook and a fish-line! Well, well! It is only what comes to us grown-up children, when we have taken a day, or a week, or a month from our business, and then have to settle down to work again.
One afternoon about two weeks after the opening of school, as Bess was coming in from some errands, she found five excited boys sitting on her front steps, eagerly waiting to see her. As she approached, she heard Rob saying,—
"I didn't think Phil had so much grit. If it had been you, Bert, or Sam"—
"Well, my boys," said Bess, as she sat down in the midst of them, and took off her hat, "what is the occasion of this call? You look as if something were the matter."
"Matter enough!" said Sam. "That Miss Witherspoon hadn't ought to teach school anyway!" And he scowled darkly on the unconscious Fred, who chanced to be in range of his glance.
"Sam! Sam!" remonstrated Bess.
"It's a fact, Miss Bessie," said Bert. "She's too old and cross for anything! Just think, she's going to keep Phil after school and whip him!"