THE PARSON'S INDIGNATION.
Mark found his roommate and faithful second, Texas, busily occupied in
cleaning up for the morning inspection. Texas wasn't looking for Mark;
it had been Texas' private opinion that Mark had earned a week's holiday
by the battle of the morning, and that the surgeon would surely grant
it. When Mark did turn up, however, Texas wasted no time in complaining
of the injustice, but got his friend by the hand in a hurry.
"Ole man," he cried, "I'm proud of you! I ain't had a chance to say how
proud I am!"
"Thanks," said Mark, laughing, "but look out for that sore thumb--and
for mercy's sakes don't slap me on that shoulder again. I'm more
delicate than I look. And say, Texas, I've got a new member for our
secret society--b'gee!"
Texas looked interested.
"He's a pretty game youngster," Mark continued, "for when Bull Harris
and that gang of his tried to haze him, he sailed in and tried to do the
crowd."
"Oh!" cried Texas, excitedly. "Wow! I wish I'd 'a' been there. Say,
Mark, d'ye know I've been a missin' no end o' fun that a'way. Parson had
a fight, an' I didn't see it; you had one daown to Cranston's, an' I
missed that; an' yere's another!"
Texas looked disgusted and Mark burst out laughing.
"'Tain't any fun," growled the former. "But go on, tell me 'bout this
chap. What does he look like?"
"He's not as tall as we," replied Mark, "but he's very good-looking and
jolly. And when he says 'B'gee' and laughs, you can't help laughing with
him. Hello, there's inspection!"
This last remark was prompted by a sharp rap upon the door. The two
sprang up and stood at attention. "Heels together, eyes to the front,
chest out"--they knew the whole formula by this time. And Cadet Corporal
Jasper strode in, found fault with a few things and then went on to
carry death and devastation into the next place.
A few minutes later the Parson strolled in.
"Yea, by Zeus," began he, without waiting for the formality of a
salutation. "Yea, by Apollo, the far-darting, this is indeed an outrage
worthy of the great Achilles to avenge. And I do swear by the bones of
my ancestors, by the hounds of Diana, forsooth even by Jupiter lapis and
the Gemini, that never while I inspire the atmosphere of existence will
I submit myself to so outrageous an imposition----"
"Wow!" cried Texas. "What's up?"
"Sit down and tell us about it," added Mark.
"It is written in the most immortal document," continued the Parson,
without noticing the interruption, "that ever emanated from the mind of
man, the Declaration of Independence (signed, by the way, by an ancestor
of my stepmother), that among the inalienable privileges of man,
co-ordinate with life and liberty itself, is the pursuit of happiness.
And in the name of the Seven Gates of Thebes and the Seven Hills of the
Eternal City, I demand to know what happiness a man can have if all his
happiness is taken from him!"
"B'gee! Reminds me of a story I heard about a boy who wanted to see the
cow jump over the moon on a night when there wasn't any moon, b'gee."
Mark and Texas looked up in surprise and the Parson faced about in
obvious displeasure at the interruption.
"In the name of all the Olympian divinities and the inhabitants of
Charon and the Styx," he cried, angrily, "I demand to know----"
"Come in," said Mark, laughing. "Excuse me for interrupting, Parson, but
this is Mr. Alan Dewey, b'gee, member Number Five of our band of
desperate buccaneers, if you please. Mr. Dewey, allow me to introduce
you to the gentleman who 'reminded' you of that last story, Mr. Peter
Stanard, of Boston, Massachusetts, the cradle of liberty, the nurse of
freedom, and the center and metropolis of the geological universe."
The Parson bowed gravely.
"While I am, together with all true Bostonians, proud of the reputation
which my city has merited, yet I am----"
"Also to Mr. Jeremiah Powers," continued Mark, cutting the Parson off in
his peroration.
"Son o' the Honorable Scrap Powers, o' Hurricane County, Texas," added
Texas, himself.
Young Dewey shook hands all around, and then sat down on the bed,
looking at Mark with a puzzled expression on his face, as much as to
say, "what on earth have I struck--b'gee?" Mark saw his expression and
undertook to inform him, making haste to start before the Parson could
begin again on the relative merits of Boston and the rest of the
civilized universe.
"Powers and Stanard," said he, "are the members of our organization,
together with Indian, the fat boy."
"I see," said Dewey, at the same time thinking what a novel organization
it must be. "There's Indian now."
Indian's round, scared face peered in through the open doorway just
then. He was introduced to Number Five, whereupon Number Five remarked
'Very pleased to meet you, b'gee.' And Indian echoed 'Bless my soul!'
and crept into the room and sat down in an inconspicuous corner.
There was a moment's pause and then the Parson commenced:
"If I remember correctly, we were occupied when last interrupted,
by--ahem! a rather facetious observation upon the subject of our
solitary lunar satellite and quadruped of the genus Bos--occupied I say
in considering the position which the metropolis of Boston has
obtained----"
"Drop Boston!" laughed Mark. "We weren't on Boston anyhow. Boston came
in afterward--as Boston always does, in fact."
"Which reminds me, b'gee," put in the newcomer, "of a story I once heard
of----"
"Drop the story, too!" exclaimed Mark. "I want to know what the Parson
was so indignant about."
"Yes, yes!" put in Texas. "That's what I say, too. And be quick about
it. We've only ten minutes 'fore drill, an' if there's anybody got to be
licked, why, we got to hustle."
"Well," said Stanard, drawing a long breath. "Well! Since it is the
obvious and, in fact, natural desire of the company assembled, so
expressed by them, that I should immediately proceed to a summary and
concise statement of the matter in hand, pausing for no extensive
introductions or formal perorations, but endeavoring assiduously to
impart to my promulgations a certain clarified conciseness which in
matters of this peculiar nature is so eminently advantageous----"
The Parson was interrupted at this place by a subdued "B'gee!" from
Dewey, followed by a more emphatic "Wow!" and a scarcely audible "Bless
my soul!"
"What's the matter?" he inquired, stopping short and looking puzzled.
"Nothing," replied Mark. "I didn't say anything."
"Oh!" said the Parson. "Excuse me. Where was I? Oh, yes, I was just
saying I would be brief. Gentlemen--ahem!--when I entered this room I
was in a condition of violent anger. As I stated, an outrage had been
offered me such as neither Parmenides, nor Socrates, nor even Zeno,
stoic of stoics, could have borne. And I have resolved to seek once
more, as a prodigal son, the land of my birth, where science is fostered
instead of being repressed as in this hotbed of prejudice and ignorance.
I----"
"What's up?" cried the four.
"I am coming to that," said the Parson, gravely, stretching out his long
shanks, drawing up his trousers, and displaying his sea-green socks.
"This same morning--and my friend Indian will substantiate my statement,
for he was there--a low, ignorant cadet corporal did enter into my room,
for inspection, by Zeus, and after generally displaying his ill-manners,
he turned to me and conveyed the extraordinary information that,
according to rules, forsooth, I must be deprived of the dearest object
of my affections, solace of my weary hours, my friend in time of need,
my companion in sickness, which through all the trials of adversity has
stuck to me closer than a brother, my only joy, my----"
"What?" cried the four, by this time wrought up to the highest pitch of
indignation and excitement.
"My one refuge from the cares of life," continued the solemn Parson,
"the one mitigating circumstance in this life of tribulation, the
only----"
"What? What? What?"
"What? Of all things what, but this? What but my life, my pride, my
hope--my beloved volume of 'Dana's Geology,' friend of my----"
And the roar of laughter which came then made the sentry out on the
street jump in alarm. The laughing lasted until the cry came:
"New cadets turn out!" which meant drill; and it lasted after that, too,
so that Cadet Spencer, drillmaster, "on duty over plebes," spent the
next hour or two in wondering what on earth his charges kept snickering
at. Poor Texas was the subject of a ten-minute discourse upon
"impertinence and presumption," because he was guilty of the heinous
offense of bursting out laughing in the midst of one of the irate little
drillmaster's tirades.