And, as always was the case on an occasion of this kind, a celebration was to mark the closing of the school for the long summer vacation. The annual bonfire was to be kindled on the campus, and about it would circle those lads who were to leave the school, while their mates did them honor.
Thus it was that the cries rang out.
“Wood!”
“More wood!”
“Most wood!”
The town had been gleaned for inflammable material. The ash boxes of not even the oldest citizen were sacred on an occasion like this. For weeks the heap of wood had accumulated, until now there was a towering pile ready for the match.
And still the cries echoed from the various quarters.
“Freshmen, get wood!”
“On the job, freshmen!”
More wood was brought, and yet more. The pile grew.