CHAPTER XXI.
A REVOLUTION IN SCHOOL.
Mr. Slocum was terribly annoyed by what had happened. It seemed impossible to explain his flight in any way that would reflect credit upon himself. He could not pretend that it was all a joke, for he had shown himself too much in earnest in the village store, where he had taken refuge, for this to be believed. Though not remarkable for sense, Mr. Slocum knew that if he should undertake to punish Julius and John for their agency in the affair, he would only give it greater publicity. He felt a strong desire to do this, however, and would have derived great comfort from flogging them both. Finally he decided not to refer to the matter in school, and in this decision he was unusually discreet.
Of course Julius and John did not keep the matter secret. When Mr. Slocum came up the school-house hill, the next morning, there was not a scholar in the school who had not heard of his adventure, and the teacher, in his hurried glance at his pupils, detected a look of sly meaning, which revealed to him the fact that all was known. Julius and John were among the rest, looking very demure and innocent. Mr. Slocum saw them, too, out of the corner of his eye, and he determined{155} to seize the first chance that presented itself of flogging each.
The school opened. Julius was doubtful whether any reference would be made to the bear. He rather expected a speech, but Mr. Slocum disappointed him. He heard the classes as usual, but refrained from making any remarks of a biographical character. His self-complacency had been severely disturbed, and he looked severe and gloomy.
He watched Julius and John, hoping to detect something in their conduct which would justify him in punishing them; but they, too, were unusually quiet, as rogues are apt to be just after a successful trick.
At length, however, something happened which led to an explosion.
Tom Allen, who has been described as the oldest and largest boy in school, sat directly behind Julius. He was not a brilliant scholar, but he had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and had been very much amused by the account of the teacher’s narrow escape from Mr. Sandford’s bear. He had a little taste for drawing, of which he occasionally made use. After finishing his sums, having a few idle moments, he occupied himself with drawing on his slate a caricature of Mr. Slocum pursued by the bear. There was enough resemblance in the portraits, both of the man and the animal, to make the subject{156} of the picture unmistakable. It was, as was natural, slightly caricatured, so that the effect was ludicrous.
Desiring his effort to be appreciated, he passed the slate to Julius, who sat in front of him. Our hero was easy to make laugh, and he no sooner cast his eyes over the picture than he burst into audible laughter. This was the occasion that Mr. Slocum had been waiting for. Laughter was against the rules of the school—it was disorderly—and would give him an excuse for the punishment he was so strongly desirous of inflicting. He strode to the desk of Julius while the latter was still looking at the slate. Mr. Slocum, too, saw it, and his fury was increased, for he recognized the subject only too well.
Seizing Julius by the collar, he jerked him out upon the floor, saying, in a voice of concentrated passion: “So, sir, you are drawing pictures instead of studying. I’ll give you a lesson.”
“I didn’t draw it,” said Julius.