Thus matters stood at the close of a beautiful May day. It was one of those languid, luxuriant days on which every lover of Nature longs to be in the woods and fields, breathing without stint air sweetened by the touch of bursting buds and growing leaves and springing grass.
It was after supper and before the time for the evening session. The boys were strolling about the grounds, playing quiet games, or lounging on the lawn. A group of them, however, had gathered near the eastern porch of the building, and were shouting and singing boisterously. Some one had composed a few doggerel verses containing little of either rhyme or metre, and had entitled them “The Noble Army of Delinquents.” It was the chorus of this song that the members of the little group were shouting out with rude vigor. They tired of this finally, and then one, Fryant, spoke up.
“What we want and need, fellows,” he said, “is a holiday. It’s a shame for Old Sil to put us on delinquency and keep us shut up here such a day as this.”
“True enough!” responded Belcher. “Last year we had a holiday long before this time. The old man’s trying to spite us because we happen to belong to the noble army of delinquents. That’s what’s the matter now, and I, for one, don’t propose—”
“Let’s petition him to go to-morrow,” broke in a third speaker. “The woods are splendid now; Beach and Valentine were over the river yesterday, and they said so.”
“Yes, let’s petition him!” exclaimed two or three at once.
Some one threw up his cap and cried out, “A holiday! holiday!”
In a moment others took up the cry, and sent it out through the twilight. Boys, separately and in groups, came hurrying toward the little party, attracted by the unusual sound. When they heard what the proposition was, they were mostly in favor of it.
It had been the custom of Colonel Silsbee to give his boys a holiday every spring. They usually went in a body to the groves across the river, taking luncheon with them, and spending the day in rowing, in athletic games, or in roaming about the woods.
Such a day could not fail to have charms for any boy; but for these delinquent lads, who were not allowed to leave the grounds, save as they were marched discreetly to church on Sunday mornings and evenings, the very thought of pleasure like this was intoxicating.