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But, dear, we know composition requires no effort on your part. Now try to excel in what does require effort, your chirography and arithmetic, for instance. There is an old Latin proverb which says, "Patient industry is worth more than lazy talent," meaning that your talent and ability will amount to nothing if you do not work.
Mamma and Aunt Lucy are sending such long letters, so you won't mind if mine is short. G.o.d bless you, my dear son.
Your affectionate,
FATHER.
L'ISLET, P. Q., September.
_Dearly Beloved Home Folks_: I have pa.s.sed the examination and have not been placed in the highest cla.s.s. That old arithmetic is the cause.
Then, I know almost nothing about Latin or French, but I mean to work in earnest.
Mamma, I did not hear you say your uncle was a priest. He has been pastor of the church for thirty years. His hair is white as snow and he always wears a long black robe belted at the waist, with large beads at his side. When walking out, his head is covered with a wide-brimmed hat.
I think he looks like the priest in Longfellow's Evangeline. He is very kind to me and says I look exactly as you did when a child.
There are two funerals here each month; every window in the Church is draped in black on these occasions, and all the ornaments on the altar covered with mourning. But, Ma, dear! you should hear the "Chanteurs"
that sing at the Ma.s.s for the dead. They are four old men with cracked voices. The first time I heard them, it was so awful that I really thought their shouting and squeaking was done purposely to scare away the devil from the corpse.
On Sundays the College boys sing in the choir; if I only could read Latin, I could serve Ma.s.s and sing too. Latin is used more than French in saying prayers.
The College grounds slope down to the St. Lawrence, the river is very wide and beautiful, islands dot its surface. We have three large rowboats and a sailing yacht. I am well pleased with everything so far, except the "grub." I miss Hetty's cooking, but I don't starve and am just as fat as ever.
With all the love of my heart and soul, I am,
Forever yours,
BOLAX ALLEN.
FUN IN THE DORMITORIES.
George Fulton, an "American boy," as they designated those who had come from the "States," was always talking of the fun he had when at boarding school near home. One day he called together six friends whom he could trust: "Say you French fellows; you're too tame," said George. "You ought to see the fun we had in the dormitories at the school I went to in the 'States.' Tonight the Brothers hold a special council, they will meet in the Chapel, which being on the other side of the Campus, will prevent their hearing us if we have a little 'Shindig' in our dormitory." "What's a 'Shindig,'" asked Leonce de Vean. "Something you knock de shins?" "Ha, ha, you little French c.r.a.peaud. I forgot you kids don't understand English slang, but you'll see what it is tonight."
As he was entering the Study Hall, Bolax saw Harrison and laughingly told him there was to be an awful "lark" in the dormitory. "We're going to have no end of fun." "Are you?" said Harrison. "Well if it gets amusing, come to my room and tell me, and I'll go down and look on."
It was Brother Isadore's night on duty. He walked slowly up and down the range of the dormitories until every boy seemed ready to get into bed, then he put out all the candles (there was no gas to be had and the Brothers would not trust coal-oil lamps to boys). So long as they were under surveillance, the boys observed the utmost quiet and decorum. All continued in order until Brother Isadore pa.s.sed out through the lavatory, one of the boys following him as a scout, had seen the last glimmer of his hand-lamp disappear around the corner at the foot of the staircase, and heard the library door close behind him.
After that, as Brother Director was obliged to preside at the Council, the boys knew they were safe from disturbance, and the occupants of the large dormitory were the first to stir.
"Now for some fun," said George, starting up, and by the way of initiative, pitching his pillow at Bolax's head.
"I'll pay you for that when I'm ready," said Bo, laughing, "but let us light a few candles first; however, it's bright moonlight, maybe we had better not light up, some one outside might notice our illumination."
Several fellows from the dormitory came on the scene with their sconces lit, these they placed so as not to show through the windows. Then the boys began all sorts of amus.e.m.e.nts, some in their night shirts, others with their trousers slipped on. Leapfrog was the prevalent game for the time, but at last Henry de la Tour suggested theatricals, and they were agreed on.
"But we're making a regular knock-me-down shindig," said Fulton, "somebody must keep guard."
"Oh, old Brother Isadore is safe enough in the Chapel; no fear of disturbing him if we were dancing Jim Crow," answered Bolax.
However it was considered safest to put some one at the top of the stairs in case of an unexpected diversion in that direction, and little Leonce consented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory door open and stand at the top of the staircase, then he commanded for a great distance the only avenue in which danger was expected.
If any Brother's lamp appeared in the hall, the boys had full three minutes' warning and a single loudly whispered "cache-cache" would cause them to "lay low," so that by the time of their adversary's arrival they would, of course, be all fast asleep in bed, some snoring in an alarming manner.
So at the top of the stairs stood little Leonce shoeless and shivering in his night shirt, but keenly entering into the fun.
Meanwhile the rest were getting up a representation of the "Grande d.u.c.h.esse" pushing the beds together for a stage and dressing up the actors in the most fantastic apparel. Fulton took the part of the Grande d.u.c.h.ess and sang "Voici le sabre de mon pere, Tu vas le mettre a ton cote," etc. All joined in the chorus as loud as they dared.
Bolax made a famous "General Boome," because he was so stout; his costume consisted of his night shirt, with a red woolen scarf around his waist; on his head was a crimson silk handkerchief, which was very stiff and stood up in a point. His cheeks were covered with corked whiskers and mustaches. He sang:
Piff, Paff, Pouf, Rut-a-pat-a poom, Je suis moi le Generale Boome!
I am the great General Boome!
while he strutted up and down the aisle with a dust brush for a sword.
"I say," said Leonce, "it is very cold standin' here, won't some one relieve guard?" After waiting a few minutes longer, he felt sure there was no danger, and therefore ran up to Harrison's room.
"What's up," asked Harrison. "Oh, we've been having leap-frog and 'La Grande d.u.c.h.esse.' I'm keeping 'guard,' but it's so cold, I thought I'd run up to your study."
"Little traitor, we'll shoot you for a deserting sentinel."
"There's no danger of being caught; besides, the fellows are making less row now."
"Well, let us go down. I want to see the fun, too."
Fulton, as Grande d.u.c.h.esse, was draped artistically in a sheet, which trailed behind him, while a blue scarf decked his fair head. Placing himself in an att.i.tude of intensely affected melodrama he was singing:
Je T'ai Sur Mon Coeur, etc.
I have thee near my heart.
Suddenly his foot caught in his long trail and landed him on his back.
This scene tickled the audience immensely, and was greeted with shouts of laughter. "Cache-cache!" shouted Leonce and took a flying leap into his bed.
Instantly there was a bolt in different directions; the candles dashed out, the beds pushed aside, and the dormitories at once plunged in profound silence, only broken by heavy breathing of the sleepers, when in strode Brother Director.
He stood for a moment to survey the scene. Every boy was in bed, but the extraordinary way in which the bed clothes were huddled about, told an unmistakable tale.
As the Brother for a moment crossed over to the lavatory, he heard some one move. "Who's there?" said he. It was Harrison trying to sneak back to his room; seeing he was caught, he came before his angry master.
"Harrison, is it? I am not surprised, go to your room, I will settle with you tomorrow."
Pa.s.sing again into the large dormitory, Brother heard nothing but the deep snores of Fulton, and instantly fixed on him as the chief culprit.
"Fulton."
No reply, but steady music from that Worthy's bed. "Fulton!" he called still louder and more sternly; "you sleep soundly, sir, too soundly, get up directly," and he laid his hand on the boy's arm.
"Allez-vous en, ce n'est pas encore temps de se lever." [Get away from here, it's not time to get up.]
"You speak very good French when you're asleep, but the shamming will only increase your punishment." The wiley Fulton stretched himself lazily, gave a great yawn, and then awoke with such an admirably feigned start at seeing Brother Director, that Bolax who had been peeping from over the bed clothes, burst into an irresistible explosion of laughter.