The school year began the next morning at half past seven when the bell on School Hall rang its imperative summons to chapel. Hugh Ordway, sitting beside Bert in one of the yellow settees in the back of assembly hall—precedent gave the back seats to the upper-class fellows at chapel and to the lower-class boys at other times—observed everything with lively interest. When, the short service over, the fellows rustled back into their seats to listen to the Principal’s talk, Bert whispered to Hugh: “You’d better try for the Glee Club, old man, if you can sing like that.”
Hugh flushed, but made no answer.
Doctor Duncan, middle-aged, tall, sallow, bearded, and near-sighted, arose to the clapping of hands and moved to the front of the platform. His little speech was the same, almost word for word, that the seniors had heard three times already, but the juniors huddled in the front rows listened with flattering attention and were, we will trust, properly impressed. The Principal’s advice was excellent and they certainly couldn’t do better than follow it. Then came a few announcements: Mr. Gibbs had been detained at home by illness and pending his return to duty his classes in History would be taken by Mr. Gring; German 1 would be held in Room F instead of H, as formerly; seniors and upper middlers whose courses had not been as yet approved would submit them to Mr. Rumford during the morning; the reception to students would be held that evening at the Principal’s residence, and it was hoped that all would attend.
Dr. Duncan bowed, removed his spectacles and substituted his shell-rimmed glasses, and said, “Dismissed,” and the hall emptied. Breakfast was at eight o’clock and the first recitation period was at nine. Neither Bert nor Hugh had a first-hour class and they took advantage of that to wait on Mr. Rumford, Assistant Principal and instructor in history, with their schedules. Bert’s misgivings proved not idle, for the German course was changed to physics. Hugh had elected physics, chemistry, and history in addition to the regular studies for his year and his card was promptly approved. At ten they went into Mathematics 4 together and at eleven they had Greek. In the afternoon there were two more periods for Bert—French and History, and one, the latter, for Hugh.
They came out of Mr. Gring’s class together and hurried to the room to leave their books and change to football togs. Hugh, who had the evening before announced his desire to play football and been unblushingly encouraged by Nick, had provided himself with a most complete supply of clothing and paraphernalia, including a head-guard and a football! He confessed that he hadn’t been certain about the necessity for the last article, but had decided to be on the safe side. He looked remarkably spick-and-span in his brand-new regalia when they sallied forth again, a violent contrast to his companion, whose togs were battle-scarred and weather-worn and not, it must be confessed, overclean.
All Grafton, in togs or out, was flocking toward Lothrop Field, and Hugh’s immaculate costume was no longer spectacular once they had joined the throng, since at least half the entering class appeared to have donned football attire quite as fresh and unsullied as his. The juniors were not allowed to try for the School Team but, under the direction of Mr. Sargent, Athletic Director, were trained in the science of the game and later herded into a first or second junior eleven and held notable contests. Still later, the upper-middle and lower-middle classes formed teams and they and the first juniors battled for the class championship, a much-coveted prize.
Already a few tennis enthusiasts were busy on the courts as Bert and his companion passed through the gate, and Hugh stopped a moment to watch. “I dare say a chap doesn’t have much time for tennis if he plays football,” he remarked questioningly.
“None at all,” said Bert. “Do you play?”
“A bit. It’s a rip—a corking game, I think. If I don’t have any luck with football I’ll have to go in for it. I saw a notice up about a Fall Tournament, I think.”
“Yes, they have one in a week or two. We’ve got some rather decent players here. Last year we didn’t do a thing to Mount Morris.”