“Yes,” replied Mr. Hudson, “you have made excellent progress, as far as your lessons are concerned, and I assure you I am very glad to be able to say so. But you must remember that, in order to receive liberty, you must strictly conform to all the rules and regulations. Didn’t you know that it was contrary to law for you to play marbles in your dormitory? and who was it that knocked that picket off the fence, and went outside the grounds without permission?”
“I did, sir,” answered Tom. “But I went after my ball.”
“That’s no excuse; and, more than that, can you tell me the name of the student who went on dress parade with a rusty musket; who left his trunk open, and his clothing scattered about over the floor of his dormitory, and who lost his broadsword besides? The rules do not recognize any mistakes, you know. They call all such things ‘disobedience of orders.’ But don’t be discouraged; try it again, Newcombe.”
“O, now, I won’t do it,” said Tom to himself, as he walked out of the school-room. “There’s no use in crying. The more I try to behave myself, the more I fall behind. I knew I never could be a soldier, and I don’t see what father wanted to send me to this school for.”
When Tom reached the end of the hall, he found the Night-hawks gathered on the porch. They were all disappointed, not one of them having received a furlough. Some had fallen behind in their lessons, while the majority, like Tom, had disobeyed some “little” rule.
“What shall we do now, Newcombe?” asked Miller, in a gloomy voice. “We’re up stump, easy enough.”
“And all on account of those useless rules,” said Rich. “What good does it do to bind a fellow down so tight? If they are so strict now, what will they be during the examination, when we receive visitors?”
“There is but one way out now, that I can see,” replied Tom, “and that is, to write a letter to our friends in the village.”
“But suppose it should fall into the hands of the Philistines?” said Miller. “What, then?”