LARRY GOES TO SCHOOL
It was with some surprise that Larry found a dollar extra in his pay
envelope Friday afternoon, for it was on that day that the assistant
cashier used to come around with the salaries. There was a five-dollar
bill and two one-dollar bills, and Larry, who since his first raise had
been getting six dollars a week, thought a mistake had been made.
He went to Mr. Newton at the first opportunity and told him about it,
asking his advice.
“You’d better speak to Mr. Emberg about it before you hand the extra
money back,” said the reporter, with a smile.
“Eh? What’s that?” asked Mr. Emberg, when Larry, in hesitating tone,
mentioned the matter. “An extra dollar, eh? Well, that’s all right,
Larry. That’s a reward for your good work in the tunnel. I heard
yesterday about you opening the door. Some of the workmen who knew it
was closed found it opened, and knew you must have done it. I want to
say that the _Leader_ appreciates such efforts. And the only way we
can show appreciation is by giving people more money. So you’ll get
seven dollars a week now. I hope it will be much more in time.”
Larry glowed with pleasure, more at the kind words than at the increase
in wages, though, of course, that was very welcome.
“My, you’re getting rich,” said Lucy that night when, at the supper
table, he told of his good fortune.
“I mean to be, some day,” spoke Larry confidently. “I want to be rich
enough to hire that big doctor that’s coming to New York soon, so he
can cure you.”
“I’m afraid there’s no hope for me,” replied Lucy, turning her head so
as to hide her tears. Her pain had been worse lately, though she had
not complained.
Mrs. Dexter was much rejoiced over her son’s advancement, for every bit
of money was needed. She could not earn a great deal, and there was
much food to buy as well as clothing for the children. She had saved
about one hundred dollars of the money she had had when she came to New
York, but this she had put away in case of sickness.
It was now about the middle of September. Larry had kept up his studies
with the professor and had made good progress.
“The night schools open next week,” said Mr. Carlton one evening, after
he and Larry had closed the books. “I suppose you are going to start
in.”
“Yes, sir,” said Larry, “and I’m very much obliged for the help you
have given me.”
“I was only too glad to do it,” replied the professor. “I hope you will
get on well in your classes. If you need help come to me.”
Larry learned from the professor the proper night school to apply at on
the evening the term opened. It was some distance from the house where
Larry lived. He started off with well wishes from his mother.
He found quite a crowd of boys around the doors, for the school had not
yet opened. The youngsters were skylarking, laughing, shouting, and
playing tricks. It was almost like a day school, Larry thought, except
that the boys were bigger, for all of them worked in the daytime. Some
came from a desire to educate themselves, but a number were obliged to
attend under the factory laws. These laws provided that if a boy went
to work too young he must make up for it by attending night school.
It was these latter lads who seemed to be making the most fun. They
evidently did not care much about the lessons.
“Here comes another!” cried a voice, as Larry walked down the street
toward the school. “Let’s make him run the gauntlet!”
“Line up!” shouted several, and they formed a narrow path, with boys
on either edge of the sidewalk, making a lane which Larry would have to
pass through. At first he did not appreciate what was up, but when he
saw the lads raise bundles of books or papers, and prepare to hit him
as he passed along, he knew what was coming.
It was fashioned after the gauntlet the Indians used to force their
prisoners to run through, only in the olden days death was often the
end of the game. Here it was mainly for fun, though sometimes very
rough.
“Soak him now!” cried several as Larry reached the head of the line and
started through the lane of boys.
At first Larry hesitated. Then he realized that if he turned back the
boys might call him a coward. And he felt that if he was to go to
school with them it would be an unpleasant thing to bear that name. So
he resolved to run the gauntlet, come what might.
Shielding his head with his upraised arms he entered the lane. Thick
and fast the blows rained on him. Most of them came from bundles of
paper and did not hurt much. As books, however, came down on Larry’s
head they made him wince. But he only joined in the shouts of glee and
made up his mind not to care.
“He’s game all right!” cried several of the older lads. “Soak him,
fellers!”
“Whoop!” yelled the crowd, with as much vim as did ever the Indians
shout over the discomfiture of a captive.
Larry was halfway down the line. He got some pretty hard knocks there,
as the bigger lads were at that point. One blow sent his hat sailing
from his head. He was about to stoop and pick it up, but someone yelled:
“Go ahead; we’ll save it for you!”
On he ran. He began to wish he was at the end of the lane, which seemed
to be getting longer instead of shorter. The blows came thicker and
were harder. In fact they all seemed to be from bundles of books now,
as few of the remaining boys had paper. But Larry was not going to back
out.
The excitement was growing, as several other luckless ones had been
made to take the dreaded journey. This took some attention away from
Larry, for which he was thankful. Now he was within a few lads from the
end of the line. Several vigorous blows were given, making Larry’s arms
and head sting with pain. Then, just as he was about to emerge from the
gauntlet, someone put out a foot and tripped him. Larry threw out his
hands and saved his head from hitting the pavement, but his palms were
cut by the fall.
He staggered to his feet, anger in his heart, and a desire to tackle
the boy who had tripped him so unfeelingly.
“That’s a mean trick!” exclaimed several of the boys.
“Who did it?” asked Larry.
“I did!” exclaimed a boy on the end of the line. “What of it?”
Larry turned and saw grinning at him Peter Manton, the rival office boy.
“If you want to fight say so,” sneered Peter, advancing toward Larry.
Larry was nothing of a coward. He was not afraid of Peter, and felt
that if he gave him a good drubbing, which he was confident he could,
from his experience in the City Hall, it would only be what Peter
deserved.
A crowd of boys, scenting what always is an attraction, regardless of
the right or wrong of it, made a circle about the two. The gauntlet was
forgotten in the prospect of something more exciting. Larry clenched
his fists and advanced with firm footsteps.
At that instant the school bell rang and the doors were thrown open.
Several teachers came out to form the boys in line, and a policeman,
one being always on duty at the evening schools, made his appearance.
“Come now, steady! No scrappin’!” exclaimed the officer. “Yez’ll all go
in quiet an’ orderly like or I’ll tap yez one or two wid me sthick!”
and he swung his night baton with a suggestive air.
“Form in line!” exclaimed the teachers.
The crowd about Larry and Peter dispersed. The boys had no desire to be
caught aiding a fight the first night of school, since many of them had
their fathers to reckon with and did not want to be expelled.
As for Larry he felt that he had a just cause for a battle with Peter.
The latter, however, did not stay to see the outcome of his challenge.
As soon as there was an excuse he broke away from the encircling crowd
and made for the open door. Perhaps he had too good a recollection of
Larry’s sturdy fists the time they had met in the City Hall corridor.
At any rate the fight was off for that night, though Larry determined
he would pay Peter back the first chance he got. Into the different
rooms the boys crowded. The teachers, with a skill born of long
experience, soon separated them into classes.
Larry was somewhat surprised, when, with a number of other boys, he had
marched into a room, to see, seated in it, half a score of men. He then
learned for the first time, that a number of grown persons, who had had
no chance to study when they were young, attended the night schools.
They were trying to learn more so as to get better positions. There
were quite a few foreigners also, whose main object was to learn the
English language.
The teacher in Larry’s class put the boys through a rough and ready
examination. To Larry’s delight he found he was able to answer with
ease the test questions. This was because of his preliminary study with
the professor.
The teacher, seeing he was a bright boy and well grounded in the
rudiments, passed him on to a higher class, where Larry settled down
for the term.
Thus began his first night at evening school, a strange experience for
him. There was little studying done at the initial session. The boys
were enrolled and then, after a short lecture by the teacher, who urged
the lads to study, the class was given a lesson to prepare for the next
night and then dismissed.
Tired and aching from his experience, with somewhat of a feeling of
anger against his old enemy Peter, and with his head filled with
thoughts of the new life opening before him, Larry went home. He found
his mother and Lucy still up, anxious to hear how he had made out.
Larry related to them his experiences, telling of the gauntlet only as
a game and making light of his hurts.
“Aren’t they pretty rough boys, Larry?” asked his mother.
“No rougher than many others,” replied Larry, bound to stick up for
those with whom he was to associate.
He studied some of his lessons that night. Then he took his spelling
book with him to the office, thinking he would get a chance during the
spare hours of the day, or at lunch time, to go over the exercises.