CHAPTER V.
A MEMORABLE HOLIDAY.
Provided a school-boy is blessed with a happy home and kind friends," commenced Hall, "there is no one in the world who looks forward to a holiday with so much pleasure, or enjoys it so thoroughly. When the time draws near that he is to leave school-life for a season, how old Father Time seems to lag on his journey, as if he had grown tired, or lame, or had met with an accident and was delayed on the way, so slowly does the wished-for day come. And when at length the happy morn arrives, who so joyous as the school-boy as he jumps out of bed and wakes his next bedfellow by throwing his pillow at him, or by the summary process of stripping the clothes from the sleeping form? Too happy and excited to eat his last breakfast in the old dining-hall, what tricks he plays with his schoolmates, who are equally excited as himself! Now he boasts what he will do during the holidays, where he will go, whom he shall see, and what things he will eat. And with what a shout he waves a farewell, as the carriage, or the coach, or the dog-cart rolls out of the school-grounds, and conveys him away out of sight of the old school-house and its master, sounding as he goes, it may be, a tin horn or a brass bugle he had bought for the occasion.
"Imagination follows the boy to his happy home, where his father welcomes him with a hearty shake of the hand, his mother with a fond clinging embrace, and his sisters with smiles and kisses; while his younger brothers, who have been on the watch for hours, greet him with shouts of delight, and hurry him away to see their favourite rabbits, and pet guinea-pigs, and mice. Who so happy as a school-boy home for the holidays!
"But amid all the excitement, and hurry, and joy, and noise, and confusion, how unutterably miserable is that boy who has no home to go to, and is to remain at school during the holidays; his face is like a cloud amid the sunshine, a frown amid smiles; he views the preparations of each departing boy with envy, and, try all he can, he cannot assume a nonchalant or I-don't-care kind of air, nor prevent a lump rising in his throat, and an occasional dimness gathering over his eyes. May be he hides himself away that he may not see the general departure of all his school-fellows, and as their joyous shouts reach him in his hiding-place, he puts his fingers in his ears to shut out the noise which means such loneliness for himself.
"It so chanced that one Michaelmas I was the one unfortunate boy who was left 'sole monarch of all I surveyed.' My parents were away on the Continent, and, unable to reach home in time, had requested the master, as a favour, to allow me to remain at Ascot House during the holidays. I was anything but pleased myself at the arrangement, but was compelled to grin and bear it.
"I will not be too sure, but I think I hid myself and cried, after Willie Wilcox, the last boy to leave, had shaken me by the hand, saying, 'Cheer up, old fellow; I'm sorry for you, but I suppose it can't be helped. I'll write you a line while I am away.' It was all very well to say 'Cheer up,' but my spirits had gradually sunk at each boy's departure, until they were far below zero when I found myself alone. I wandered aimlessly about the playground, which had never before appeared so deserted or silent, kicking stones about with my feet, and making holes in the ground with the heels of my boots. I sauntered up to the school-room windows, and stared in at the empty room, and at the long desks, which looked strange and unfamiliar. Even the doctor's wife did not raise my spirits when she kindly said, 'You may go into the garden, Hall, whenever you like, and pick some fruit, but be sure you do not eat too much, so as to make yourself unwell.' I availed myself of the privilege, and ate more fruit than I have ever done since. No, nothing could banish the cloud from my face, nor the gloom from my heart. I never knew what loneliness was before. Even night did not wrap me in forgetfulness, for although by way of variety I lay in a different bed each night, sleep seemed to have gone home for a holiday as well as the boys, for it would seldom visit my couch.
"This state of things went on for a week. I took long walks, but the zest seemed to have gone out of them since I was alone, for they were nothing like so pleasant as when my companions were with me. A change came, however, which made the remaining days a little more bright and cheery.