LETTER FROM A FRIEND.
PALM BEACH, November 1st.
_Dear Master Bolax_: When you receive this letter you will say who is
this lady? I never knew her, so I must introduce myself. I am a very old
friend of your mother's; we were schoolmates. When you were a tiny baby
I saw you and held you in my arms, since then I have been traveling in
Europe and did not see your dear mother until we met down here. We often
walk out together, and talk of old times, but Mamma's chief topic of
conversation is her "boy." You are the core of your mother's heart, and
she so hopes to be able to say as you grow older, "This is my blessed
boy, is he not noble? I am so proud of him," and you will feel all the
nobleness of your nature grow greater, for any boy who can write such
sweet, tender letters has the Christ Child in his heart and cannot go
far wrong; only you let the little Pixie, a very tormenting spirit, sit
on your shoulder at times, and that is the trouble; just you work him
off and keep him off; his name is "Lack of Application," and he whispers
in your right ear, "don't study hard, let's have some fun; you'll get on
somehow."
Then "Lack of Application" has a little sister, who is just as
mischievous, her name is: "Procrastination," with these two little Elves
so close, and keeping them as constant companions is the cause of all
our trouble. If you will whisper to the dear Christ Child to drive them
off, and help you to put the cobbles of determination in their place,
you will find your pathway full of sunshine.
The Brothers, your instructors, do not mean to be severe, but are trying
to help you drive away these two spirits with whom you have struck up
such a great friendship.
Now, my dear boy, you have great talent; study that you may be one of
the _great men_ and you will find those you think are "hard" upon you
are your best friends and helpers.
For your mother's sake, who loves you better than her life, make
_pleasure your_ friend _for_ your hours of leisure, but let Brain, Heart
and Hands work during working hours. Seek all the knowledge that you now
have the chance of obtaining for the more you know of French, Music,
Mathematics and general knowledge, the greater are your chances of
success.
I think I hear you say: "Why did this lady write to me? She don't know
me." Oh, yes, she does, from your letters, and your mother's description
of you.
I love boys. I have had one of my own; I know all about their funny
tricks. I used to wish I had been a boy myself.
Once when a little girl, I kicked and yelled for an hour because I was
not permitted to climb a chestnut tree, and set traps for rabbits and
play shinney with the boys. Now don't you think I know something, having
gone through all this.
I think a letter from you to me would be a fine thing. We might have a
tilt or two with the pen and brain, if not with the sword and lance.
As your dear mother tells me you have a loving, kind heart. I send you a
portion of the love I give her and ask you to call me,
AUNT ANNA EUHLER.
* * * * *
L'ISLET, P. Q., December 8th.
_Darling Mother_: Your sweet letter was received yesterday and my heart
beat with joy on seeing it.
Brother will let me have all the books and papers you can send. I would
like to renew my subscription to Harper's Young People. I have read all
dear Father Finn's books over again, and enjoyed them as I did the first
time. I know you are under great expense on account of Papa's illness,
so do not exert yourself trying to send me Christmas money, if it
becomes necessary I will do without going anywhere or getting anything.
There will be a few boys here to stay over Christmas and New Year, so I
will have a little fun, although not as much as if I went to Quebec, St.
Anne, St. Eugene's, Cape St. Ignac or Trois Pistolets.
Brother Director has told the Brother who cooks to clean the butter for
me, he will put it in water and mash it, thus withdrawing the salty
taste and black particles.
I now have a book called "Horsfield's Method of Learning French
Language," and I think it will help me very much. It has the French on
top and the English underneath, as:
Il est fou, etc.,
He is fool.
It also has conversation, as:
Vous avez des cheveuz rouge,
You have the hairs red.
Don't you wish I could write as well as the fellow who addressed this
envelope? The strongest boy in the school is Adolph Bernier, and he is
one of my best friends. If he had the nerve of Dr. Carroll he could lick
the world.
His muscle is almost three times as large as Doctor's, and his legs
about eighteen inches round.
The wind howls around here, and the snow is above the fences. We walk on
it with snow shoes.
My love to Papa. Could you send me some alligator's eggs?
Your loving son,
BOLAX.
* * * * *
PALM BEACH, December.
_My Noble, Generous Boy_: Your letter touched Papa to the heart, but
there will be no necessity for your making such a sacrifice.
It would grieve me to have my child so far away from home, without the
means for having a pleasant Christmas. Uncle wrote to say he would
attend to your holiday pleasures, and Papa now sends ten dollars.
We laughed so heartily at your description of how the butter was washed
for your benefit.
Dearie, do you remember the stories old Colonel O'Brien used to tell us
of his campaign during the Civil War? How once he was nearly
forty-eight hours without food, and was glad to eat an old piece of
ham-fat, which he saw a darkey throw out on the grass as he rode past?
Colonel told us it was the spirit of self-control he had learned while
at College that enabled him to bear hunger, cold, privations of all
kinds, while in the army. Of course, the food is not expected to be as
dainty as at home, but it is always wholesome; no Catholic College would
give bad food to the children entrusted to its care. I tried to get the
alligator's eggs, but the darkies tell me that it is a hard matter to
find them; one old fellow told me: "Dem ugly beasteses loves dere young
like de dogs and cats do, dey hide dere eggs and watches round when de
time comes for de little ones to be hatched out; you don't better be
near at dat time hunten' eggs or young ones, de mudder would snap you up
in half a minute."
I have some curious shells which I will give you when I see you; they
would only be destroyed among so many boys, if I sent them.
Pray for Papa, not forgetting your loving mother.
P. S.--You ask me to describe Palm Beach, so I send the advertising
pamphlet. The description given therein is a perfect pen-picture of the
place, much better than I can give. I am Papa's amanuensis and he has so
many business letters to send I have little time for other writing, with
love,
MAMMA.
* * * * *
DECEMBER 29.
_Bien Chère Maman_: Such a happy Christmas as I have had. At midnight I
was awakened by the Parish Church bells chiming the Adeste Fidelis.
The Midnight Mass was celebrated in the College Chapel, because the snow
is so deep, Monsieur Le Curé had announced to the Congregation that the
grand High Mass would be at 6 A. M. in the Parish Church.
I assisted at the Mass in the Chapel. It was my first Midnight Mass, and
I felt awed by the solemn ceremony.
The grand High Mass was sung by four gentlemen from Quebec. Brother
would not let me get up for it, but I attended Vespers in the evening;
they had the same choir as at the morning service, with a band of music.
At nine o'clock we were invited to breakfast in the Brothers' dining
room. At each "cover" was a box of bonbons from Brother Director and our
letters from home.
Dear Ma! I was so surprised I cried. I opened your dear letter first,
really I don't know how to thank you and dear Papa.
Aunt Lucy and Uncle Carroll sent me ten dollars, Uncle Dick, five. I
feel as rich as a millionaire, with my twenty-five dollars.
* * * * *
JANUARY 20.
_Dear Mamma and Papa_: As I was writing the above, Monsieur Le Curé sent
for me to go with him to Quebec. You may be sure I jumped at the offer.
We put up at the Sulpician Seminary. We went to see several beautiful
churches.
Notre Dame de Victoire, built in the time of Louis XIV as a votive
offering in thanksgiving for a victory gained over the English.
The very same flags and trophys captured then are still preserved in
this church.
We saw the ice palace, on the summit of a hill, it was illuminated by
electricity, and reminded me of Aladin's Castle in the fairy tale.
No one was allowed to go into it, but you could look in at the windows
and doors, and see the wax figures dressed in fancy costumes.
You should have heard the joy bells, and the booming of the cannon from
the citadel ushering in the New Year.
There was no discordant clang, no ear-splitting fog horns as in New
York, but most of the churches having chimes, made an inspiriting
melody.
The Basilica played the Te Deum, Adeste Fidelis, and the National
Anthem.
We had midnight Mass in the Seminary, and no one went to bed until near
morning.
I must tell you about a little girl we met in the street. She was
carrying a doll in her arms when she slipped and fell; the doll was
broken to pieces, the poor little thing knelt on the pavement and looked
sadly at it, then bursting into tears and raising her eyes to heaven,
she cried out: "Sainte Vièrge mon seul enfant est mort!" (Holy Virgin,
my only child is dead!)
It went to my heart to see her, so I picked her up, and tried to comfort
her; I took her to the nearest shop and bought another "child," when I
placed it in her hands, her eyes fairly danced with delight. "Oh,
mesieu! I tank yo! No English speak."
Monsieur Le Curé gave her his blessing. As she was leaving the store she
took up the broken doll, we asked her what she wanted with the old,
broken thing. "Ah, mesieu, one does not throw away dead children; they
must be buried."
The people here are so full of faith; you will see well-dressed
gentlemen and ladies stop to say the Angelus in the street if they hear
the bell ring.
I pray our dear Lord, that you, Papa, and all I love may have a happy
New Year.
Your affectionate son,
B. ALLEN.
After Christmas holidays it was difficult for the boys to settle down to
study. The good Brothers, who had not forgotten their own boy-life,
understood this and did not draw the reins of discipline very tight for
the first few days.
Brother Director made a very pleasant and sensible address to the
juniors on the duty and benefits of being diligent in study. At the
close of his "talk," as he termed it, he said:
"And now boys, I have something to offer you by the way of spurring your
diligence. Three beautiful silver medals have been placed in my hands by
three gentlemen living in Quebec. These medals are for your competition.
If they were intended as rewards, I would not be a party to their
bestowal. I want my pupils to feel that hard, honest study carries its
own reward with it. Study puts you in possession of knowledge, which is
power, strength, influence and pleasure.
"These are rewards to satisfy any virtuous boy without the addition of
gifts. Boys of your age lag a little sometimes, and perhaps need
something tangible to help them on. I hope these medals will keep you
all up to your mettle, and that although only three of you can win them,
all will prove yourselves worthy of them. One is for keeping the rules
of the College. One for Composition--English or French. One for him who
shall pass the best examination in all branches of study.
"You are now dismissed until tomorrow morning, when I shall expect you
to be ready to begin work in earnest."
The boys set up a grand huzza for Brother Director, and then dividing
into groups were soon scattered over the grounds or seated under the
sugar maple trees.
All the boys made determined resolutions to win the prize. Bolax was
especially anxious, because his father had objected to his coming to
Canada, and he wanted to show that his mother's choice of a College was
a success.
LETTER TO PAPA.
_Dear Papa_: Now I am in another scrape. The fellow that took things
from the table has been found out; I can't imagine how. But he declares
I told Brother Isadore on him. I said it wasn't true. He got red in the
face and called me a hypocrite; said I pretended to be a saint because I
go to Holy Communion every week. Papa, I never pretended to be a saint.
It isn't agreeable to have people think you're worse than you really
are.
Your loving son,
B. ALLEN.
PAPA'S ANSWER.
_My Dear Son_: How is a boy to become a manly man if he has everything
and everyone about him "agreeable." I did not send you to College just
for the French and Latin merely. I could teach you those languages, and
in fact, all your other lessons if I chose. I send you that you may get
some knocks, and bruises; that you may learn to bear annoyances with
patience and manliness.
As long as you live in this world you will meet with people who will
misunderstand and misjudge you. But what of that? You have and always
will have, if you deserve it, friends who appreciate and love you, who
will make the best of your good qualities and the least of your bad
ones. Above all, you can have the friendship of God by faithfully
keeping His Commandments.
Your affectionate
FATHER.
LE GOURMAND.
For some weeks since the boys returned after Christmas holidays, Brother
Julien, who had charge of the dormitories, complained of finding scraps
of cake, apple cores, etc., hidden behind the water tank in the
lavatory; no one could tell who placed them there. Fulton and Allen
knew, but would not inform, although both were very often disturbed by
hearing Hyacinth Laforge munching apples in the bed next them.
One morning Brother Director came into the Refectory looking very stern.
"I will thank the young gentlemen as they pass from the room to turn
their pockets inside out," was the bland invitation that filled
everybody with amusement or consternation, as the case might be.
There was a good deal of laughing and joking, as the boys filed out of
the room and a great display of knives, pencil, bits of string, etc.
At last the guilty one took his turn. Out came apples, crumbs of cake,
nuts, a little of everything.
"So it seems we have a thief among us!" Brother Director spoke in a very
severe tone of voice.
"I didn't suppose you would begrudge me an apple or two," said the boy,
throwing the contents of his pocket defiantly on the table.
"Nor do I. If you had come to me or to the Brother Procurator, and said:
'I am a greedy fellow; I want to eat all I can hold at the table, and
have something to fall back on between times,' you would have been amply
provided. But what is that bulging out under your jacket? Open it
immediately." Hyacinth slowly and with a dogged air, unbuttoned his
vest, when, to the astonishment of the Brother, and the great amusement
of the boys, out came a whole pie.
Such a laugh as followed! Brother Isadore, who was standing near,
touched the pie, and finding it was still warm, asked when he had
managed to capture it. The cook answered the question by coming on the
scene, saying: "That boy ran through my kitchen a minute ago, shouldn't
wonder if he had taken something, he's always sneaking round."
"Here Brother, here's his plunder," said the Director, "Ce n'est bon que
pour les poules maintenant!" (It is only fit for the chickens now),
answered the cook, who was very much provoked.
After the laughter had subsided, Hyacinth received a severe and
mortifying reproof.
Brother Director said: "Since eating seems to be your chief aim in life,
and to save you from stealing, your bed shall be moved into the little
clothes room and a plate of cakes and apples placed so that you can
munch all night if you wish, without disturbing the rest of the
dormitory." The boys passed out laughing. It is needless to add that the
apples and cakes were beside the greedy one, every night until he was
sick of the sight and smell.
FRENCH LETTER.
Mrs. Allen was very anxious that her son should write a letter in
French, so to please her he sent the following:
COLLEGE DE L'ISLET, Janvier 7.
_Bien Chère Maman_: Votre card de postal etait recu hier et je l'ai lu
avec beaucoup de playsir.
Je suis toujour content a recevoir vos lettres, parceque vous est mon
premier amour, je vous aime plus que tout dans le monde et dans le ciel
exceptey le bon Dieu et la sainte Vierge.
S'il vous play, envoyer moi de l'argent pour achetey du sucre blanc. Je
n'aime pas le sucre brune.
Comme ceci est mon premier lettre en français, si vous play ne fait pas
le _fun_ a mes fautes.
Je suis avec tout l'amour de mon coeur votre fils.
B. ALLEN.
TRANSLATION OF LETTER.
_My Dear Mamma_: Your postal card was received yesterday and I read it
with much pleasure.
I am always so glad to receive your letters, because you are my first
love, my own dearest mother!
I love you more than anything in this world or in Heaven, except the
good God and the Holy Virgin.
If you please, send me some money. I want to buy some white sugar, as I
don't like the brown sugar they give here.
As this is my first French letter if you please don't make fun over my
faults.
I am with all the love of my heart,
Your son,
B. ALLEN.
* * * * *
PALM BEACH, FLA., January.
_My Very Dear Child_: Papa and I are much pleased with your effort at
French letter-writing, you spell as the words are pronounced, but you
will soon learn to correct that. Don't forget accents. They are as
important as letters in writing French. I enclose two dollars for the
sugar.
Papa is improving in health and spirits in this delightful climate. I am
writing at an open window, with the odor of roses and Jessamine wafting
into my room.
Dearest make good use of your time. Papa is particularly anxious about
your arithmetic, and you know that's your weak point. We are so pleased
with the "gold certificate," it proves you are doing your best. Pardon
the brevity of this letter, Papa is waiting for me to go and watch the
alligators sporting in the water, but we won't let them get a bite at
us.
Your loving mother,
M. ALLEN.
P. S.--I should not have said "sporting," for alligators are sluggish
beasts, but often may be seen in the mud in clusters, a tail-switching,
or a head raised, on the watch for prey.
* * * * *
L'ISLET, January 15.
_Bien Chère Mère_: I have just received a Christmas gift from that old
lady we always called "Madame." You know she never would say my name,
always calling me "Bon Homme."
The following verse is written on the fly-leaf of the book she sent.
Don't you think it cute?
Sans que je te nomme,
Mon petit "Bon Homme,"
Je m' adresse au ciel;
Et je te souhaite
Une belle fête,
Un heureux Noel,
Un coeur pur et sage,
Voilà le présage,
D'un bonheur reël.
MADAME.
Avec beaucoup d' amour je suis votre fils.
B. ALLEN.
* * * * *
_Bien Chère Mère_: Vous me demandez encore une autre lettre en français!
Whew! How am I to manage it? Why on earth do they have male and female
verbs, and adjectives, and spell the participles differently at every
turn. It's no use, I'll never do it! Brother Director tells me I read
well, talk well, pronounce well, that ought to be enough.
Hier j'aidé le frère Pascal, qui est le cuisiniere de porte le bois dans
la cuisine, without thinking, j'ai laisser tomber les morceau de bois
dans un chaudron de soup.
Le bon frère didn't get mad, he just said: "Tu a fais ton mieux mon
petit, voici des pommes en payment de votre ouvrage." I didn't consider
it work, it was just play.
J'ai achete' des raquettes (snow shoes) we have a fine skating rink, and
we play hockey every day.
I had to buy new moccasins, mine were all cut after a long walk over a
rough road. I have a new Cache-nez (muffler) and a surtout; et un
casquette Canadian, which covers toute ma tete et mes oreilles, leaving
only my eyes and nose free, so I don't feel the cold, although the
thermometer is always below zero.
* * * * *
March 5th.
_Dear Papa and Mamma_: It is now three weeks since I wrote the above. I
have been in the infirmary, but don't be alarmed; I'm all right now. The
way it was, the boys dared me to climb a telegraph pole covered with
ice. As I had once climbed a greased pole, I thought I could manage this
one. I succeeded somehow, though I had a hard tussle to accomplish the
feat.
The boys cheered and made such a racket, one of the Brothers came out,
in my hurry to descend I fell when within a few feet of the ground, and
broke my ankle. Dr. Dion, a fine surgeon, set it, and placed my foot in
plaster-of-paris. Brother Director wrote to Aunt Lucy and Dr. Carroll,
but not to Papa or you, as it was no use to worry you. I have had the
best of care, the Brother Infirmarian was a doctor out in the world and
knows all about nursing.
I am fed on "sugar and spice and everything nice."
Monsieur Le Curé sits with me every day. I could walk now if they would
let me.
I am not losing my lessons, but keep up as near as possible with the
classes.
Brother Director hears me the lessons. Brother Paul (the Infirmarian)
does not speak a word of English, so that will help my French. Give my
love to dear Papa and to Aunt Euhler. I will write her a letter soon,
her last about the tame alligator was enjoyed by the whole College. She
says you all eat alligator's tails, that the meat is like chicken. I
wish you could send one up here, I'd like to taste it. Now don't worry,
I'll soon be as well as ever.
J'ai l'honneur de me dire, avec une parfaite affection, Votre
fils--Ahem!
BOLAX.
* * * * *
EASTER SUNDAY.
_Bien Cher Papa et Chère Maman_: I still continue strong and well, and
pray that you and dear Papa are in good health. I have really tried hard
to study and keep the rules of the College. With this I send another
"Gold Certificate," which shows I have given satisfaction.
I long so to see you as the time approaches for vacation.
I go to Holy Communion every Sunday and First Friday, but you needn't
think I am going to be a Christian Brother, or a Priest. I would be
afraid I might get tired and cut up didoes like that Monk we read of in
Ivanhoe.
Always votre fils,
BOLAX.
P. S.--The Monk's name was Friar Tuck. I remember Uncle Dick telling
about him.
"Hurrah, Hurrah! for vacation's coming,
And the weeks of Jubilee!"
AWARDING PRIZES.
The weeks rolled on in spite of the oft-repeated saying among students,
"Vacation will never come." The examinations began on June 15th; quite a
number of patrons attended. Bolax stood the test of examination finely,
all things considered, but his former lack of application showed itself
in several things, particularly arithmetic.
In addition to the three medals given by the gentlemen, a prize had been
offered for the best declamation. All prizes were to be awarded at the
closing exercises on Commencement Day.
The large exhibition hall was crowded on that afternoon, which was a
regular fete for the people of L'Islet. Great pains had been taken to
dress the hall, its walls were festooned with evergreens, and the
spacious platform gay with flags.
The boys were dressed in white pants and blue jackets. Everything that
skill and taste, combined with economy, could suggest, had been done to
make the place attractive, and the occasion pleasant.
"What uncouth creatures boys are!" observed one young lady to a bevy of
misses seated near her. "Look, there isn't one in that crowd sitting
gracefully, they all act as if their hands were in their way." "You
don't mean to say my brother is ungraceful, do you?" asked Julie
Bernier.
"Oh, I'm not referring to the collegiate class; they certainly are
gentlemen, but the juniors."
"I think," remarked Anaise Latour, "Young Allen, one of the American
boys, is very graceful, and he has such a pleasant expression of face."
"Oh, he's too fat to be graceful," retorted Julie Bernier.
A general titter followed this remark. Before the girls were ready to
renew their criticisms, the call bell rang. Brother Director announced
that the exercises would open with an address by Monsieur Le Curé.
After the address came the spirited hymn, "Nous Sommes Les Soldats de la
Foi" (We are the Soldiers of the Faith), played by the College band, and
sung by all the boys.
Next on the program came the declamations by the juniors, of course,
most of the pieces were given in French, as few among the audience
understood English.
George Fulton came first, with a comic Piece, taking off "Stump
Speaking." This elicited much applause, because of the excellent
mimicry of the speaker.
Bolax Allen gave Joaquin Miller's "Columbus." As he imitated the
Admiral's "Sail on! Sail on! Sail on and on!" he thrilled the audience
with the power of his voice. One could almost fancy they saw Columbus as
he paced his deck on the eventful night before he sighted land.
Mr. H. Bernier and Mr. L. Harrison entered into a comic debate as to the
superior merits of their respective nations. Bernier for the French,
Harrison for the English. The young gentlemen seemed so in earnest, got
into a dispute and spoke in such angry tones, that every one expected to
see them resort to fisticuffs. At a point when they appeared to be in a
rage against each other, old Farmer Tourier happened to come into the
hall, and being struck with what he thought the disgraceful conduct of
the boys, jumped on the stage to separate them.
"Have you no respect for Monsieur Le Curé and the Brothers?" he demanded
in a loud voice.
Monsieur Le Curé and the other gentlemen on the platform were so
convulsed with laughter, it was some minutes before any one interfered.
The audience fairly shouted and clapped, it was a regular pandemonium.
At last one of the Brothers went up to poor old Tourier and whispered to
him. You should have seen his crestfallen appearance when he found he
had been making a laughing stock of himself.
Poor old fellow, all summer the villagers laughed whenever they met him,
as his wife said:
"On a bien ri ce jour là, et tout le monde rit-encore!" (People laughed
that day, and they laugh yet.)
Brother Director appointed a committee to decide on the merits of the
declaimers and to award the prize. When these gentlemen arrived at a
decision, Brother awarded the medals.
After a brief address by Monsieur Le Curé, in which he showed that the
highest reward of study is not a medal or prize of any kind, but the
mental growth and power which comes from it to the student.
"Still," he added, "a prize is not to be despised, because it symbolizes
the diligence, obedience and perseverance of the winners. Hence, my
boys, I wish you ever to set a higher value on the character which wins,
than the prize which is won.
"The committee of examinations have unanimously awarded the silver medal
for general excellence in all studies to Louis Tascherau." Here cheers
were given for Louis.
"The silver medal for the best composition is awarded to Bolax Allen."
Cheers were heartily given for Bolax, and the young ladies in the
audience could not say this boy was not able to make a most graceful
bow.
"The committee on declamation found it very difficult to decide between
the speakers. There was but a shade of difference in favor of Fulton, so
he received the medal." George was loudly applauded, for he was a jolly
fellow, liked by the whole school, masters and scholars, although
inclined to make fun out of time.
To his utter astonishment, Bolax heard his name called again, this time
to receive a medal for strictly keeping the rules of the College, and
giving good example by his upright conduct on all occasions.
Huzzas three times repeated showed that he had won the good will of his
companions.
As Monsieur Le Curé placed the medal around Bo's neck, he whispered. "I
wish your worthy parents were here to see your triumph."
After the juniors had received their rewards, the young collegians were
introduced by Brother Director.
Some of them spoke on learned topics, rather above the comprehension of
many in the audience, but evidently highly appreciated by the priests
and other gentlemen seated on the platform.
Mr. Brenier received the gold cross, the highest reward given to a
graduate. T. Harrison and H. de Villiers received gold medals for
excellence in all studies.
Honoré gave the Valedictory, dressed in a long black gown and doctor's
cap, he looked very handsome and proved himself a fine orator. He was
interrupted by frequent bursts of applause. At last came one tumultuous
and prolonged, that proclaimed the conclusion of his oration.
The exercises being ended, the band struck up, and all sang the vacation
song:
Quel plaisir nous allous partir
Les vacances vont commencer!
When the music had ceased, the students with their parents and friends,
were invited to partake of a simple collation. You may be sure they had
a merry time over the cake and ice cream.
After the boys left, the College was so quiet, the halls and rooms so
empty that Bolax and Fulton were overpowered with loneliness. They were
the only scholars who had to remain. Harrison, the other "American" boy,
had gone to his uncle in Montreal to spend his vacation.
Bolax expected soon to hear from his parents, who were on their way to
Canada, and Fulton was invited to spend a few weeks with his chum, de
Villiers, at the pretty village of "Trois Pistolets."
On the morning of the fourth day of vacation, Brother Julien took the
boys out for a sail on the St. Lawrence. He brought a hamper of good
things for luncheon, and fishing tackle to give them employment.
They were very lucky and filled a basket with fine trout, but just as
they were preparing to return the wind changed, and the boat was
becalmed.
They had made up their minds to pass the night on the water, when
fortunately, a strong north wind filled the sails, and they steered for
home.
It was after dark when they got to the pier, where they found Brother
Director and a crowd of villagers on their knees praying "La bonne St.
Anne," to protect the boat with its precious cargo.