the story of a bad boy-第7节

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Kitty　laid　herself　out　to　be　entertaining。　She　told　me　several　funny　Irish　stories；　and　described　some　of　the　odd　people　living　in　the　town；　but；　in　the　midst　of　her　comicalities；　the　tears　would　involuntarily　ooze　out　of　my　eyes；　though　I　was　not　a　lad　much　addicted　to　weeping。　Then　Kitty　would　put　her　arms　around　me；　and　tell　me　not　to　mind　it…that　it　wasn't　as　if　I　had　been　left　alone　in　a　foreign　land　with　no　one　to　care　for　me；　like　a　poor　girl　whom　she　had　once　known。　I　brightened　up　before　long；　and　told　Kitty　all　about　the　Typhoon　and　the　old　seaman；　whose　name　I　tried　in　vain　to　recall；　and　was　obliged　to　fall　back　on　plain　Sailor　Ben。

I　was　glad　when　ten　o'clock　came；　the　bedtime　for　young　folks；　and　old　folks　too；　at　the　Nutter　House。　Alone　in　the　hallchamber　I　had　my　cry　out；　once　for　all；　moistening　the　pillow　to　such　an　extent　that　I　was　obliged　to　turn　it　over　to　find　a　dry　spot　to　go　to　sleep　on。

My　grandfather　wisely　concluded　to　put　me　to　school　at　once。　If　I　had　been　permitted　to　go　mooning　about　the　house　and　stables；　I　should　have　kept　my　discontent　alive　for　months。　The　next　morning；　accordingly；　he　took　me　by　the　hand；　and　we　set　forth　for　the　academy；　which　was　located　at　the　farther　end　of　the　town。

The　Temple　School　was　a　two…story　brick　building；　standing　in　the　centre　of　a　great　square　piece　of　land；　surrounded　by　a　high　picket　fence。　There　were　three　or　four　sickly　trees；　but　no　grass；　in　this　enclosure；　which　had　been　worn　smooth　and　hard　by　the　tread　of　multitudinous　feet。　I　noticed　here　and　there　small　holes　scooped　in　the　ground；　indicating　that　it　was　the　season　for　marbles。　A　better　playground　for　baseball　couldn't　have　been　devised。

On　reaching　the　schoolhouse　door；　the　Captain　inquired　for　Mr。　Grimshaw。　The　boy　who　answered　our　knock　ushered　us　into　a　side…room；　and　in　a　few　minutes…during　which　my　eye　took　in　forty…two　caps　hung　on　forty…two　wooden　pegs…Mr。　Grimshaw　made　his　appearance。　He　was　a　slender　man；　with　white；　fragile　hands；　and　eyes　that　glanced　half　a　dozen　different　ways　at　once…a　habit　probably　acquired　from　watching　the　boys。

After　a　brief　consultation；　my　grandfather　patted　me　on　the　head　and　left　me　in　charge　of　this　gentleman；　who　seated　himself　in　front　of　me　and　proceeded　to　sound　the　depth；　or；　more　properly　speaking；　the　shallowness；　of　my　attainments。　I　suspect　my　historical　information　rather　startled　him。　I　recollect　I　gave　him　to　understand　that　Richard　III　was　the　last　king　of　England。

This　ordeal　over；　Mr。　Grimshaw　rose　and　bade　me　follow　him。　A　door　opened；　and　I　stood　in　the　blaze　of　forty…two　pairs　of　upturned　eyes。　I　was　a　cool　hand　for　my　age；　but　I　lacked　the　boldness　to　face　this　battery　without　wincing。　In　a　sort　of　dazed　way　I　stumbled　after　Mr。　Grimshaw　down　a　narrow　aisle　between　two　rows　of　desks；　and　shyly　took　the　seat　pointed　out　to　me。

The　faint　buzz　that　had　floated　over　the　school…room　at　our　entrance　died　away；　and　the　interrupted　lessons　were　resumed。　By　degrees　I　recovered　my　coolness；　and　ventured　to　look　around　me。

The　owners　of　the　forty…two　caps　were　seated　at　small　green　desks　like　the　one　assigned　to　me。　The　desks　were　arranged　in　six　rows；　with　spaces　between　just　wide　enough　to　prevent　the　boys'　whispering。　A　blackboard　set　into　the　wall　extended　clear　across　the　end　of　the　room；　on　a　raised　platform　near　the　door　stood　the　master's　table；　and　directly　in　front　of　this　was　a　recitation…bench　capable　of　seating　fifteen　or　twenty　pupils。　A　pair　of　globes；　tattooed　with　dragons　and　winged　horses；　occupied　a　shelf　between　two　windows；　which　were　so　high　from　the　floor　that　nothing　but　a　giraffe　could　have　looked　out　of　them。

Having　possessed　myself　of　these　details；　I　scrutinized　my　new　acquaintances　with　unconcealed　curiosity；　instinctively　selecting　my　friends　and　picking　out　my　enemies…and　in　only　two　cases　did　I　mistake　my　man。

A　sallow　boy　with　bright　red　hair；　sitting　in　the　fourth　row；　shook　his　fist　at　me　furtively　several　times　during　the　morning。　I　had　a　presentiment　I　should　have　trouble　with　that　boy　some　day…a　presentiment　subsequently　realized。

On　my　left　was　a　chubby　little　fellow　with　a　great　many　freckles　（this　was　Pepper　Whitcomb）；　who　made　some　mysterious　motions　to　me。　I　didn't　understand　them；　but；　as　they　were　clearly　of　a　pacific　nature；　I　winked　my　eye　at　him。　This　appeared　to　be　satisfactory；　for　he　then　went　on　with　his　studies。　At　recess　he　gave　me　the　core　of　his　apple；　though　there　were　several　applicants　for　it。

Presently　a　boy　in　a　loose　olive…green　jacket　with　two　rows　of　brass　buttons　held　up　a　folded　paper　behind　his　slate；　intimating　that　it　was　intended　for　me。　The　paper　was　passed　skillfully　from　desk　to　desk　until　it　reached　my　hands。　On　opening　the　scrap；　I　found　that　it　contained　a　small　piece　of　molasses　candy　in　an　extremely　humid　state。　This　was　certainly　kind。　I　nodded　my　acknowledgments　and　hastily　slipped　the　delicacy　into　my　mouth。　In　a　second　I　felt　my　tongue　grow　red…hot　with　cayenne　pepper。

My　face　must　have　assumed　a　comical　expression；　for　the　boy　in　the　olive…green　jacket　gave　an　hysterical　laugh；　for　which　he　was　instantly　punished　by　Mr。　Grimshaw。　I　swallowed　the　fiery　candy；　though　it　brought　the　water　to　my　eyes；　and　managed　to　look　so　unconcerned　that　I　was　the　only　pupil　in　the　form　who　escaped　questioning　as　to　the　cause　of　Marden's　misdemeanor。　C。　Marden　was　his　name。

Nothing　else　occurred　that　morning　to　interrupt　the　exercises；　excepting　that　a　boy　in　the　reading　class　threw　us　all　into　convulsions　by　calling　Absalom　A…bol'…som　〃Abolsom；　O　my　son　Abolsom！〃　I　laughed　as　loud　as　anyone；　but　I　am　not　so　sure　that　I　shouldn't　have　pronounced　it　Abolsom　myself。

At　recess　several　of　the　scholars　came　to　my　desk　and　shook　hands　with　me；　Mr。　Grimshaw　having　previously　introduced　me　to　Phil　Adams；　charging　him　to　see　that　I　got　into　no　trouble。　My　new　acquaintances　suggested　that　we　should　go　to　the　playground。　We　were　no　sooner　out…of…doors　than　the　boy　with　the　red　hair　thrust　his　way　through　the　crowd　and　placed　himself　at　my　side。

'I　say；　youngster；　if　you're　comin'　to　this　school　you've　got　to　toe　the　mark。〃

I　didn't　see　any　mark　to　toe；　and　didn't　understand　what　be　meant；　but　I　replied　politely；　that；　if　it　was　the　custom　of　the　school；　I　should　be　happy　to　toe　the　mark；　if　he　would　point　it　out　to　me。

〃I　don't　want　any　of　your　sarse；〃　said　the　boy；　scowling。

〃Look　here；　Conwayl〃　cried　a　clear　voice　from　the　other　side　of　the　playground。　〃You　let　young　Bailey　alone。　He's　a　stranger　here；　and　might　be　afraid　of　you；　and　thrash　you。　Why　do　you　always　throw　yourself　in　the　way　of　getting　thrashed？〃

I　turned　to　the　speaker；　who　by　this　time　had　reached　the　spot　where　we　stood。　Conway　slunk　off；　favoring　me　with　a　parting　scowl　of　defiance。　I　gave　my　hand　to　the　boy　who　had　befriended　me　…　his　name　was　Jack　Harris…and　thanked　him　for　his　good…will。

〃I　tell　you　what　it　is；　Bailey；〃　he　said；　returning　my　pressure　good…naturedly；　〃you'll　have　to　fight　Conway　before　the　quarter　ends；　or　you'll　have　no　rest。　That　fellow　is　always　hankering　after　a　licking；　and　of　course　you'll　give　him　one　by　and　by；　but　what's　the　use　of　hurrying　up　an　unpleasant　job？　Let's　have　some　baseball。　By　the　way；　Bailey；　you　were　a　good　kid　not　to　let　on　to　Grimshaw　about　the　candy。　Charley　Marden　would　have　caught　it　twice　as　heavy。　He's　sorry　he　played　the　joke　on　you；　and　told　me　to　tell　you　so。　Hallo；　Blake！　Where　are　the　bats？〃

This　was　addressed　to　a　handsome；　frank…looking　lad　of　about　my　own　age；　who　was　engaged　just　then　in　cutting　his　initials　on　the　bark　of　a　tree　near　the　schoolhouse。　Blake　shut　up　his　penknife　and　went　off　to　get　the　bats。

During　the　game　which　ensued　I　made　the　acquaintance　of　Charley　Marden；　Binny　Wallace；　Pepper　Whitcomb；　Harry　Blake；　and　Fred　Langdon。　These　boys；　none　of　them　more　than　a　year　or　two　older　than　I　（Binny　Wallace　was　younger）；　were　ever　after　my　chosen　comrades。　Phil　Adams　and　Jack　Harris　were　considerably　our　seniors；　and；　though　they　always　treated　us　〃kids〃　very　kindly；　they　generally　went　with　another　set。　Of　course；　before　long　I　knew　all　the　Temple　boys　more　or　less　intimately；　but　the　five　I　have　named　were　my　constant　companions。

My　first　day　at　the　Temple　Grammar　School　was　on　the　whole　satisfactory。　I　had　made　several　warm　friends　and　only　two　permanent　enemies…Conway　and　his　echo；　Seth　Rodgers；　for　these　two　always　went　together　like　a　deranged　stomach　and　a　headache。

Before　the　end　of　the　week　I　had　my　studies　well　in　hand。　I　was　a　little　ashamed　at　finding　myself　at　the　foot　of　the　various　classes；　and　secretly　determined　to　deserve　promotion。　The　school　was　an　admirable　one。　I　might　make　this　part　of　my　story　more　entertaining　by　picturing　Mr。　Grimshaw　as　a　tyrant　with　a　red　nose　and　a　large　stick；　but　unfortunately　for　the　purposes　of　sensational　narrative；　Mr。　Grimshaw　was　a　quiet；　kindhearted　gentleman。　Though　a　rigid　disciplinarian；　he　had　a　keen　sense　of　justice；　was　a　good　reader　of　character；　and　the　boys　respected　him。　There　were　two　other　teachers…a　French　tutor　and　a　writing…master；　who　visited　the　school　twice　a　week。　On　Wednesdays　and　Saturdays　we　were　dismissed　at　noon；　and