_THE SCHOLIANT_
At half-past ten the next forenoon the two carriers toiled up the hill
with the papers under their arms. Their instructions were to deliver
a copy to each _Scholiast_ subscriber, and this they proceeded to do.
Oddly enough, the first copies to reach their destinations were those
for Dr. Hewitt and the library. The Doctor’s was left in the Office,
and the library copy was placed, as usual, on the periodical table. As
the Doctor was engaged with a class at the time, and as the library
was empty, these copies found no readers until much later in the
day. Meanwhile the paper had been delivered at the rooms of the two
societies upstairs, and the two boys left Oxford and began their tours
of the dormitories.
The first discovery of the hoax is credited to a Preparatory Class
youth named Wilkes, who at the time was enjoying a slight attack of
German measles, in his room in Merle Hall. It was Wilkes who, contrary
to the doctor’s instructions, threw up his window and hailed a friend
excitedly some ten minutes after the delivery of _The Scholiant_ had
begun.
“Oh, Billy!” sang out young Mr. Wilkes. “Oh, Billy! Have you seen _The
Scholiast_?”
Billy paused under the window and deliberated.
“Is it a joke?” he asked finally and suspiciously.
“No――yes――――”
“Then I don’t know the answer,” replied Billy, shifting his books to
his other arm and starting on again.
“Hold on! Come up here and see it, will you? Chambers has gone crazy,
and the paper’s full of the funniest things you ever saw!”
“Huh! You want me to catch the measles, I guess!”
“You won’t; I’m all over ’em.”
“It’s against orders, though. Besides, I’ve got a copy of my own in the
room.”
“All right, don’t!” said Wilkes, aggrievedly. “You’re missing something
great, though. Listen to this.” Wilkes stuck _The Scholiant_ through
the window, and proceeded to read from the first column: “‘Yardley Wins
at Last! Notable Victory Scored Over Greenburg Female Academy!!’”
“What?” cried Billy. “Here, I’m going to have a look!”
He tossed his books on to the steps and dashed upstairs, the danger of
infection all forgotten.
A quarter of an hour later Yardley was in an upheaval. Copies of The
_Scholiant_ were at a premium; and the few fellows who, from motives
of economy, didn’t subscribe to the school weekly, regretted the fact
deeply. Between classes the steps of Oxford fluttered with the sheets,
and copies were even handed about surreptitiously during recitations;
and more than one copy was confiscated by authority.
Of course it is out of the question to reproduce that number of _The
Scholiant_ here, but some of its features deserve mention. At first
glance _The Scholiant_ was _The Scholiast_, and nothing else; lots
of fellows refused to believe that it was not the regular issue of
the school paper until, at noon, the grinning carriers appeared with
the latter. And it was almost dinner-time when some smart youth made
the discovery that an N was doing duty for an S in the title. The
first article was an account of a baseball victory for Yardley over
the Greenburg Female Academy, a private day school for girls. This
production was Tom’s, and he had had a lot of fun in writing it, since
it gave him excellent opportunities to score hits on Alf and Dan and
others of the baseball team.
“Two weeks ago to-morrow,” said the account, “Yardley won its first
baseball victory of the season. Greenburg Female Academy was our
opponent, and a hard-fought and closely contested game was the result.
Not until the ninth inning had been played was the outcome apparent.
Then, rallying nobly about its captain, our team refused to be denied.
The final score was 37 to 29, eleven runs being tallied in the last
inning when, with admirable presence of mind, our Coach released six
field mice from a cigar box. During the subsequent confusion our team
scored at will. We understand that the game has been protested by the
Academy, on what score is not apparent to _The Scholiant_.”
Then followed a column and a half giving the game by innings. One
inning will do as a sample: “In the eighth, Matilda Moore opened for
the visitors with a long hit halfway to the pitcher’s box. She was
clearly out, pitcher to first baseman, but as the entire visiting
team gathered about the umpire and called him ‘a mean old thing,’
he reversed his first decision. Jessie Jones, who followed at bat,
insisted on standing on the plate and was hit by the first ball
pitched. After recovering from hysterics she was given her base.
Matilda walked over to third and would have been out had she not
threatened to stick a hat-pin in our third baseman if he touched her
with the ball. Condit, being a gentleman of discretion, promptly
dropped the ball and couldn’t find it until the runner was safe on the
bag. Mary Ann Arbor struck out, but was given her base by the umpire
when she claimed that Reid had pitched the ball so swiftly that she had
been unable to see it.
“With the bases filled, Daisy Doolittle sent up a foul, which was
captured by Hammel. She was called out, but the runners came home and
refused to go back to their bases when instructed to do so by the
umpire. They said they were too tired to walk so far. Gwendolyne Gwynne
made eyes at the pitcher and walked to first, scoring a moment later,
when Alice Smith struck at the first ball, a wild pitch, and ran to
first. Gwendolyne neglected to make a circuit of the bases, explaining
that she didn’t like the second baseman and wasn’t going near him.
Sarah Feathers struck out. Four runs.
“For Yardley, Captain Durfee went to bat first in the last of the
eight. He made a clean hit past shortstop and reached second, but was
called out for having jostled Matilda Moore at first. After Matilda
had stopped crying, the game went on. Condit couldn’t reach the ball,
although he got a lot of exercise going after it, and the umpire gave
him his base. Loring hit to deep center, advancing Condit to third and
taking second. Vinton, naturally of a shy disposition, was so deeply
embarrassed that he was struck out easily. Daisy Doolittle dropped the
ball on the ground while she fixed her hair, and Condit and Loring
scored. Wheelock made a safe hit to right, but got talking to the
catcher and forgot to take his base. The umpire finally called him out
for delaying the game. Two runs.”
Gerald had followed this with an article on “The Track and Field
Outlook,” in which he managed to have some mild fun with the
candidates. (Gerald’s copy had had to be pretty thoroughly edited, for
English composition was not one of the boy’s strong points.) Dan’s
first-page contribution made a great hit with its readers. It was
headed “Broadwood Academy To Be Sold.”
“Broadwood Academy,” declared _The Scholiant_, gravely, “is announced
to be sold under the hammer to the highest bidder, next Tuesday
afternoon, at two o’clock. The sale will take place on the steps of
the Court House, at Greenburg. Broadwood Academy was started a few
years ago as a preparatory school for boys, but failed signally of its
purpose, and for the past two years has been conducted as a Sanitarium
for Weak-Minded Youths. The property consists of a small parcel of
pasture land situated on a hillside about two or three miles from
Greenburg, four or five tumble-down buildings, several keepers, and a
handful of patients. We shall be sorry to see Broadwood Academy go,
for it has been considered one of the unnatural curiosities of the
neighborhood, and picnickers have always found the campus a comfortable
place on which to lunch. A rumor has been current to the effect that
Yardley Hall proposed buying the property and moving it to a corner
of the Athletic Field. _The Scholiant_, however, is able to state
authoritatively that the project has been abandoned.
“Professor Collins, when interviewed on the subject, said: ‘Yes, there
was some talk of purchasing the property and bringing it here to
Yardley, placing it, possibly, on the Athletic Field between the Boat
House and the Tennis Courts. But the plan would be impracticable, since
the buildings are too old to stand the journey.’ The property will
probably be bought in by W. J. Arthur, the popular Wissining grocer,
who contemplates using it as a poultry farm.”
Alf had two editorials, each done in Joe Chambers’s most flamboyant
style. The first announced a change of editorial policy as follows:
“A New _Scholiant_. Journalism in America has entered upon a New Era!
Conservatism is dead! The Watchword of To-day is _Houpla_! It is no
longer sufficient merely to print the News. The Public, the Great
American Reading Public, demands Sensation. Hitherto and heretofore
_The Scholiant_ has followed the Old Methods of Journalism. It has
published the News truthfully and deliberately. It has been Sedate,
Dignified, and Courteous. But the Times compel a Change. _The
Scholiant_ is a Servant of the Public. _The Scholiant_ bows to the
Inevitable. We are done with Conservatism. Hereafter _The Scholiant_
will be at once Up-to-Date, Sensational, Untruthful, and Interesting.
It will be Saucy and Spiteful. Above all it will be Yellow. Ever in the
van among the Journals of the Old School, from now on _The Scholiant_
will be in the fore with the Journals of the New. Beginning with its
next issue _The Scholiant_ will be printed on yellow paper. It will be
copiously illustrated. It will have Special Departments dealing with
Burglary, Homicide, and Kindred Subjects. Always Fearless, it will
hereafter be Reckless, Rampageous, and Reprehensible. Its Editorials,
which have been copied all over the Civilized World, will continue to
be written by the same Gifted and Eloquent Pen, but will be Brighter,
Breezier, and Better than ever. The Old _Scholiant_ is dead. The New
_Scholiant_ salutes you!”
A second editorial advocated the abolishing of the Faculty and the
substitution of a Student Government body. It was the sheerest
nonsense, but it served its purpose, which was to poke fun at
Chambers’s tempest-in-a-teapot eloquence.
The “School Notes” filled almost two columns and, from a school
standpoint, were extremely funny.
“Ferris, 2d, says he is raising a mustache. It looks to us like dirt,
but Hy ought to know.”
“T―――― L――――, 1st, wears his collars so high that every time he looks
over the edge he gets dizzy.”
“Notice anything new about Doctor H――――? One at a time, please!”
“A clean towel has been placed in the Gymnasium wash-room. This makes
the second this year.”
“Rand, 1st, has a new pair of trousers. Congratulations, Paul! (Later.
We were mistaken. It’s the same old pair. Paul has had them pressed.
Apologies, Paul!”)
“There’s going to be a party at Farrell’s before long. Ask Editor
Chambers who is giving it.”
“There’s a case of German measles in Merle. Even our diseases are Made
in Germany nowadays.”
“Captain Vinton says the football prospects are extremely bright. They
always are at this time of year.”
“Hiltz, 2d, took tea on Friday with our popular Matron. So far his
nerve has not been affected.”
The advertisements were perhaps the funniest feature of the issue.
Practically every advertiser in _The Scholiast_ was represented.
The popular drug store across the river was Wallace’s, and Wallace
advertised “Wallace’s Famous Fried Egg Sundae Can’t Be Beat! Try
one at our Soda Fountain! We also have a full stock of Post Cards,
Sarsaparilla, Toothbrushes, and Chewing Gum. Prescriptions filled while
you sleep!”
“Indigestion? Farrell’s Lunch Emporium is the place to get it! Have one
of my India Rubber Sandwiches! They last a Life Time!”
“Hardware of All Kinds at Topham’s. Why wear Woolen? Try a Suit of Our
Chain Armor! Wears Harder and Lasts Longer!”
“Hurd and Gray’s Livery and Boarding Stable solicits the esteemed
patronage of the young gentlemen of Yardley Hall. Good board at
moderate prices. Try us when you are tired of Commons.”
“Proctor’s! Proctor’s! Proctor’s! Stationery in All its Branches. Post
Cards Free to Patrons. Help Yourself when we are Not Looking. Try one
of our Famous Non-Leakable Fountain Pens. A Bottle of Ink Eradicator
Gratis With Every Pen!”
A telegraph item from New Haven announced that hereafter Yale
University would admit Yardley Hall graduates without examination.
Another, dated at Greenburg, stated that owing to the fact that the
Faculty at Broadwood Academy had decided to insist upon a mild course
of study at that institution many of its foremost athletes were
leaving; and in consequence Broadwood would not be represented that
Spring on field or diamond.
_The Scholiant_ was a success, and the printer did a good business for
days after in striking off extra copies at ten cents apiece for boys
who wanted to send them home. “The Fake _Scholiast_,” as it was called,
lived in history, and you will find framed copies of it hanging in
the rooms of Cambridge and Oxford Societies. For days Yardley laughed
itself sore over it, and hazarded all sorts of guesses as to who had
perpetrated the joke. In the end the facts leaked out, and Alf and his
associates reaped praise and renown, not only from their fellows but
from members of the faculty as well. Tradition has it that Mr. Collins,
the Assistant Principal, was discovered doubled over with a copy of
_The Scholiant_ in his hand.
But there was one who failed to appreciate the joke at its full value.
That was Joe Chambers. Joe took it fairly well, but his grins lacked
sincerity. No one was present when he caught his first glimpse of _The
Scholiant_, so, unfortunately, his sensations must be left to the
imagination; but Alf and Dan and Tom ran him down a half-hour later in
his room. He was scowling darkly and, as he confessed days afterward,
was writing a red-hot editorial on “The Vulgarity of Practical Joking.”
A day or two later, however, after the fellows got through teasing him,
he regained his poise and managed to smile wanly when the subject was
mentioned. The party at Farrell’s came off in due time, and, under the
benign and softening influence of frankfurters and chicken sandwiches
and chocolate eclairs and root beer, Joe forgave his tormentors. He
would very willingly have forgotten, too, but that was denied him. I
regret to say that at first Joe tried, in Alf’s picturesque language,
to “squeal.”
“I agreed to give you fellows a feed,” he declared, “if you got out a
livelier issue of _The Scholiast_ than we did. You didn’t. You called
your sheet _The Scholiant_. That lets me out, don’t you see?”
Alf viewed him reproachfully, sorrowfully, and shook his head.
“Joe, that isn’t like you,” he replied. “That’s quibbling. It――it even
savors of dishonesty. No, no, as your friends, we can’t allow you to
take that stand. Truth is truth, Joe, and justice is justice. Be a man,
Joe. Pay up, old sport!”
Joe looked about him for moral support, but the faces of Dan and Tom
and Gerald expressed only disapproval and hunger.
Joe sighed and gave in.