cold, and he has been so ill; but he must get better, for you know there
are ... just the two of us, and ... I would be ... lonely without the
pater."
"Nestie does not wish to part with me, Mr. MacKinnon, for we h-have been
... dear friends, that's how it was, and we loved ... mother; but he is
a ... brave little man, as you know, and mother and I will not forget
him ... you came to ask for Nestie, and it was God's will, for I h-have
a f-favour to ask of you."
Bulldog went over and sat down by the bed, but said nothing. Only he
took the minister's hand in his and waited. He also put his other arm
round Nestie, and never did he look fiercer.
"I have no relatives, and his m-mother's family are all dead; there is
nobody to be g-guardian to Nestie, and he cannot live alone. C-could you
get some family who would be ... where he might be at ... h-home?
"You know we are not rich, but we've s-saved a little, for Nestie is a
famous little house-k-keeper; and maybe there's enough to keep him ...
till he grows big; and I'll give you the receipt at the bank, and you'll
... manage for him, won't you?"
Bulldog cleared his throat to speak, but could not find his voice--for a
wonder, but his hand tightened on the minister's, and he drew Nestie
nearer to him.
"Of course, Mr. MacKinnon, I know that we have no c-claim on you, for we
are strangers in Muirtown, and you ... have many boys. But you've been
kind to Nestie, and he ... loves you."
The minister stopped, breathless, and closed his eyes.
"Mr. Molyneux," began Bulldog in a stern voice, "I'm willing to manage
Nestie's estate, big or small, and I'll give an account of all
intromissions to the Court, but I must decline to look out a home for
Nestie.
"Nestie and me" (bad grammar has its uses, and some of them are very
comforting) "are good freends. My house has just an auld schoolmaster
and an housekeeper in it, and whiles we would like to hear a young
voice."
Bulldog paused and then went on, his voice sterner than ever--in sound.
"Now Bell's bark is worse than her bite, and maybe so is mine (Nestie
nodded), so if the wee man wouldna be feared to live wi' ...
Bulldog--oh, I know fine what the rascals call me--he 'ill have a heart
welcome, and ... I'll answer to ye baith, father and mother, for yir
laddie at the Day o' Judgment."
"'What shall I render ... unto the Lord ... for all His benefits?' I
cannot thank you ... (the minister was now very weak); but you will not
... miss your reward. May the God of the orphan.... Kiss me, Nestie."
For a short while he slept, and they watched for any sign of
consciousness.
"It was too soon"--he was speaking, but not to them--"for Nestie ... to
come, Maud; he must stay ... at school. He is a good boy, and ... his
master will ... take care of him ... Nestie will grow to be a man,
dear."
The minister was nearing the other side, and seeing the face he loved
and had lost awhile.
"It's mother," whispered Nestie, and a minute later he was weeping
bitterly and clinging with all his might to the schoolmaster, who came
perilously near to tears himself.
"They're together now, and ... I'll be father and mother to ye, Nestie,"
said Mr. Dugald MacKinnon, master of mathematics in Muirtown Seminary,
and known as Bulldog to three generations of Muirtown lads.
A FAMOUS VICTORY
IV
The Seminary perfectly understood that, besides our two chief enemies,
the "Pennies" and McIntyres, there were, in the holes and corners of the
town, obscure schools where little companies of boys got some kind of
education and were not quite devoid of proper spirit. During a really
respectable snow-storm--which lasted for a month and gave us an
opportunity of bringing affairs to a temporary settlement with our
rivals, so that the town of Muirtown was our own for the next seven
days--a scouting party from the Seminary in search of adventures had an
encounter with a Free Kirk school, which was much enjoyed and spoken
about for weeks beside the big fire. Speug began, indeed, to lay out a
permanent campaign by which the boys going home southwards could look in
from time to time on the Free Kirkers, and he indicated his willingness
to take charge of the operation. It was also said that an Episcopal or
Papist school--we made no subtile direct distinctions at the
Seminary--in the northern district might afford some sport, and the
leadership in this case was to be left to Duncan Robertson, the other
captain of the commonwealth. Snow did not last the whole year round even
in a Scots town; but it was wonderful what could be done in summer by
the use of book-bags, well stuffed out with Cæsar and Lennie's English
Grammar, and at the worst there always remained our fists. The pleasure
of planning these forays is still a grateful recollection, for it seemed
to us that by spreading our forces we might have perpetual warfare from
January to December and over the length and breadth of the town, so that
no one would be compelled to return to his home of an evening without
the hope of a battle, and every street of the town would be
distinguished by conflict. Nothing came, however, of those spirited
enterprises that year, because our two rivals, laying aside their mutual
quarrels, which, we understood, were very bitter, and entering
into a covenant of falsehood--their lying filled us with holy
indignation--attacked us front and rear while we were having an innocent
game of Russians and English on the North Meadow. Although taken
unawares and poorly provided with weapons we made a good fight; but in
the end we were scattered so completely that Speug never reached the
school again that day, for which he was thrashed by Bulldog next
morning, and Dunc came in with a front tooth gone and one black eye,
for which he was soundly thrashed at once.
During all that summer we denounced the amazing meanness of the other
side, and turned over plans for splitting the alliance, so that we might
deal with each power separately and finally. Speug even conducted a
negotiation--watchfully and across the street, for the treachery of the
other side was beyond description--and tried to come to terms with the
representative of our least hated opponent. He even thought, and Peter
was not guileless, that he had secured their neutrality, when they
suddenly burst forth into opprobrious language, being a very vulgar
school indeed, and exposed Peter's designs openly. His feelings were not
much hurt by the talk, in which, indeed, he scored an easy victory after
he had abandoned negotiation and had settled down to vituperation, but
Seminary boys whose homeward route took them past the hostile
territories had to be careful all that summer. It was, indeed, a time of
bitter humiliation to the premier school of Muirtown, and might have
finally broken its spirit had it not have been for the historical battle
in the beginning of November, when McGuffie and Robertson led us to
victory, and the power of the allies was smashed for years. So great,
indeed, was their defeat that in early spring Peter has been known to
withdraw himself from marbles in the height of the season and of his own
personal profit, for the simple purpose of promenading through the
enemies' sphere of influence alone and flinging words of gross insult in
at their gates.
One of the schools must have been a charity for the education of poor
lads, since it was known to us as the "Penny School," and it was a
familiar cry ringing through the yard of the Seminary, "The Pennies are
coming!" when we promptly turned out to give them the welcome which, to
do them justice, they ardently desired. Whether this was a penny a week
or a penny a month we did not know, or whether, indeed, they paid a
penny at all, but it pleased us to give this name, and it soon passed
beyond the stage of correction. Our enemies came at last to wear it
proudly, like many other people who have been called by nicknames and
turned the nickname into an honour, for they would follow up a
particularly telling snowball with the cry, "There's a penny for ye!"
They were sturdy varlets, quite indifferent as to boots and stockings,
and equally so as to blows. Through their very regardlessness the
Pennies would have been apt to rout the Seminary--whose boys had given
pledges to respectability, and who had to answer searching questions as
to their personal appearance every evening--had it not been for
stalwarts like McGuffie, whose father, being a horsedealer, did not
apply an over strict standard of judgment to his son's manners or
exploits, and Robertson, who lived in lodgings and, being a soldier's
son, was supposed to be in a state of discipline for the Army.
Our feeling towards the Pennies was hardly cordial, but it was as
nothing to our hatred of McIntyre's school, which called itself an
academy, and had a Latin master and held examinations and affected
social equality with the Seminary. Everyone knew that the Seminary had
existed in the time of Queen Mary, and some said went back to the days
of William Wallace, although we had some doubts as to whether the
present building was then in existence. Everyone also knew that
McIntyre's whole concern belonged to himself, and that he collected the
fees in every class on Friday morning, that he took home what was over
after paying his assistants, and that butcher meat for the McIntyre
family next week depended on the result. McIntyre drew his supplies from
the small tradesmen, and a Seminary lad, going in to get a new pair of
boots at Meiklewham's would have a fine sense of pride in being measured
by an old opponent whose face had often looked out on him from the mist
of battle. This pretentious and windy institution even attempted the
absurdity of a yearly prizegiving, when, instead of the Provost sitting
in state and glaring before him with a Horace in his hands upside down,
McIntyre's minister would hold forth on diligence and tidiness and
courtesy and such like contemptible virtues. Had a Seminary boy been
offered the painful choice, he would almost as soon have gone to the
Pennies as to McIntyre, for in that case he had not been an impostor and
a fraud.
For a week the weather had been hovering on frost, and on Wednesday
afternoon the snow began to fall with that quiet and steady downpour
which means a lasting storm. Speug went home in great spirits, declaring
to an admiring circle of junior boys that if Providence were kind and
the snow continued there would be something worth living for at the
dinner hour on Friday. As the snowball war was a serious affair, and was
conducted after a scientific fashion, it never commenced until there was
a good body of snow upon the ground and pure snow could be gathered up
without earth and stones. The unpardonable sin of our warfare was
slipping a stone into a snowball: this was the same as poisoning the
wells, and the miscreant who perpetrated this crime was cast out from
every school. There was a general understanding between parties that the
mercies were not to be wasted, and that the schools were to refrain
themselves until there was a fair and lasting supply of ammunition. It
was still snowing on Thursday morning, and there were some who said that
war might now be declared; and Jock Howieson, ever a daring and rash
spirit, declared we should repent it if we were not ready against one
o'clock. Speug and Dunc were however of opinion that nothing was likely
to take place that day except desultory skirmishes, and that the whole
day ought to be spent in accumulating a store of snowballs against
Friday, when there was no question that we should have to face the
united schools in a decisive battle. This was the only instance where
our captains ever made a mistake, and they atoned for their error of
judgment by the valour and skill with which they retrieved what seemed a
hopeless defeat.
As the hours wore on to one o'clock Speug could be seen glancing
anxiously out at the window, and he secured an opportunity with Dunc for
a hasty conference during the geometry lesson. About a quarter to one he
turned from his slate and cocked his ear, and in two minutes afterwards
every boy in Bulldog's class-room understood that the war had begun and
that we had been taken by surprise. Scouts from McIntyre's, as we
afterwards learned, had risked the danger of playing truant, which in a
school like theirs cost nothing, and had visited our playground. They
had carried back news that we were not yet prepared for battle, and our
firm opinion was that the authorities of Penny's and McIntyre's had
allowed their schools out at half-past twelve, in order to take us at a
disadvantage. Before the bell rang and the senior classes were dismissed
the Seminary knew that our enemies had seized the field of battle, but
we did not know until we came out the extent of the disaster.
The Pennies had come down the back street and had established
themselves opposite the narrow entrance between two sheds through which
three only could walk abreast from our playground to the street. They
had also sent a daring body of their lighter and more agile lads to the
top of the sheds which separated our playground from the street, and
they had conveyed down an enormous store of ammunition, so that the
courtyard was absolutely at their mercy, and anyone emerging from the
corridor was received with a shower of well-made and hard snowballs
against which there was no standing. Even if we ran this risk and
crossed the open space we could then be raked by the fire from the shed,
and a charge through the narrow passage to the street would be in the
last degree hazardous. There were twelve feet of passage, and there were
not many who would care to face a stream of snowballs driven by the
vigorous hands of the Pennies down this passage as through a pipe.
Instead of meeting our enemies on the street, we had been penned up
within our own school. McIntyre's had come down the terrace and seized
an excellent position behind two Russian guns which stood opposite our
school and about twenty feet from our front entrance. They had made
these guns into a kind of fort, from behind whose shelter, reinforced by
a slight barricade of jackets, they commanded our entrance, and had
driven in the first boys who emerged, in hopeless discomfiture. It came
upon us that we had been shut up back and front, and shut up with the
poorest supply of snowballs and very little snow with which to repair
our resources.
[Illustration: "SEIZED AN EXCELLENT POSITION BEHIND TWO RUSSIAN GUNS."]
While the younger boys raged and stormed in the safety of the corridors,
Dunc and Speug retired for consultation. In two minutes they came out
and gave their orders to the mass of boys gathered together round the
"well" and in the "well," and on the stairs and along the corridors. It
was at this moment that Nestie Molyneux obtained a name which he covered
with glory before the close of the day. As he had no class between
twelve and one, he had been observing events, and with the aid of two or
three other little boys had done what he could to repair the neglect of
yesterday. In spite of a rain of snowballs he had availed himself of a
sheltered corner in the playground and had worked without ceasing at the
preparation of the balls. Every ball as it was made was dipped into a
pail of water and then, half frozen, was laid in a corner where it was
soon frozen altogether. "There'll be the feck o' two hundred balls
ready. Ma certes! Nestie has a head on his shoulders. Now," said Speug,
speaking from halfway up the stair, "we'll start with thae balls for a
beginnin', and wi' them we'll fecht our way out to the open. As soon as
we've cleared the background every ane o' the two junior classes is to
mak' balls as hard as he can lick and bring them forward to the fighting
line.
"We'll divide the senior school into three divisions; Dunc will take
thirty of ye and drive McIntyre frae the guns and along the terrace till
ye turn them into Breadalbane Street. Thirty o' ye--and I want nae
Dowbiggins--'ll come with me, and we'll bring the Pennies aff the shed
quicker than they got up, and drive them up the back streets till we
land them wi' the rest in Breadalbane Street; and the juniors 'ill keep
us well supplied with balls, else Dunc and me will ken the reason at two
o'clock.
"Jock Howieson, ye're to tak' thirty swank fellows that can run and are
no 'feart to be left alane. Ye'll rin round by the North Street and the
Cathedral and come down the top of Breadalbane Street till ye cut off
McIntyre's and the Pennies frae their schools. Dae nothin' till ye see
Dunc and me drivin' the lot up Breadalbane Street, then come down from
the back end of them wi' all your might, and I'm thinkin' they'll be
wanting to be inside their ain yard afore a' be done."
Dunc assembled his corps inside the front porch, each boy supplied with
two balls and with twenty youngsters behind bringing up more. McIntyre's
balls were falling on the front wall and coming in through the porch.
One of them struck Dunc on the side of the head, but he forbade any
return fire.
"They're wastin' their balls," he said; "it'll be the better for us";
and then, looking round, "Are ye ready? Charge!" and shouting "Seminary!
Seminary!" he led his division across the terrace and fell upon
McIntyre's behind the guns. It was a short, sharp scrimmage, during
which Dunc levelled the leader of McIntyre's, and then the enemy began
to retreat slowly down the terrace, with many a hand-to-hand encounter
and scuffle on the snow. As soon as Dunc's division had cleared the
front, Jock Howieson collected his lads and started along the terrace in
the opposite direction at a sharp run, carrying no balls, for they
intended to make them on the scene of operation. When the other two
divisions were off, Speug addressed his faithful band. "MacFarlane, take
six birkies, climb up the waterspout, and clean the richt-hand shed,
couping the Pennies into the street. Mackenzie, ye're no bad at the
fightin'; tak' anither sax and empty the roof o' the left-hand shed, and
'gin ye can clout that Penny that's sittin' on the riggin' it'll teach
him to keep in the street next day.
"Noo, that leaves eighteen, and me and Bauldie and Jamie Johnston 'ill
lead ye down the passage. We'll need six balls each, as hard as ye mak'
'em, and the rest o' ye tak' two in yir arms and one in yir hand. Pit
yir bonnits in yir pocket--they'll no be muckle use--button yir jackets,
and when the three o' us gae down the passage for ony sake follow close
in behind. Just ae thing more," said Speug, who was in his glory that
day. "I'll need a laddie to keep me gaein' with balls, and I want a
laddie that has some spunk, for he'll hae a rough time." Below thirty
of the junior school were waiting and looking at Speug like dogs for a
biscuit. He threw his eye over the group, any one of which would have
given his best knife and all his marbles, and thrown in a cricket bat
and his last kite, to have been chosen.
"Nestie," said Speug, "ye're little and ye're white and ye're terrible
polite, but there's a sperit in ye. Ye'll carry ma balls this day, and
noo, you juniors, aff to the ball-making, and see that Nestie's bonnet's
well filled, and there's no any of us wanting for a ball when we drive
the Pennies down the back road." Then Speug moved to the back corridor
and arranged his division, with Nestie behind him, and Bauldie and Jamie
Johnston on the right hand and on the left, Mackenzie's and MacFarlane's
detachments close behind, who were to turn off to the right hand and the
left as they emerged from the corridor; the rest were to follow Speug
through the passage of danger. Speug took two balls and placed them in
the hollow of his left arm, feeling them carefully to see that they
would leave a mark when they struck a Penny. The third he took in his
right hand, and Nestie had the reserve.
"Noo," he said, "gin anybody be feared he'd better gae in and sit doun
beside the fire with the Dowbiggins," and since nobody responded to this
genial invitation Speug gave one shout of "Seminary!" and in a minute
was across the playground and at the mouth of the passage, while
Mackenzie and MacFarlane were already scrambling up the walls of the
sheds. Covering his face with his left arm and sending his first ball
direct into the face of the foremost Penny, and following it up with a
second and a third driven with unerring aim and the force of a catapolt,
and receiving anything from twelve to twenty balls between him and
Bauldie and Johnston, the three led the way down the passage, Nestie
close behind Speug and handing him a new supply of balls. They met at
the outer end of the passage--the Pennies and Speug's lot--and for about
thirty seconds they swayed in one mass of struggling, fighting, shouting
boy life, and then, so steady was the play of Speug's fists, so able the
assistance of the other two, so strong the pressure from behind, and so
rapid the shower of balls sent over Speug's head among the Pennies, the
Pennies gave way and Speug and his band burst into the back street, the
leader with his jacket torn off his back, and his face bearing the scars
of conflict, but full of might, and Nestie with the balls behind him.
The Seminary lads and the Pennies were now face to face in the back
street, with a space of about ten yards between, and both parties made
arrangements for the final conflict. The scouts of the Pennies could be
seen bringing balls from Breadalbane Street, and the Pennies themselves
made such hasty readjustments of their negligent attire as were
rendered necessary by the vigour of the last fighting. Their commander
was a sturdy lad about fifteen years of age, with a great shock of red
hair and fists like iron. His favourite method of charge was to lead his
army in the form of an inverted V, he being himself at the apex, and to
force his way through the other side on the principle of a wedge. Speug
did not believe in this arrangement. He led himself in the centre and
threw out his two lieutenants far out on the right hand and on the left,
so that when the Pennies forced their way into the middle of his
division, Bauldie and Johnson were on their right and left
flanks--tactics which in Speug's experience always caused dismay in the
attacking force. The younger boys of the Seminary had by this time ample
resources of ammunition ready, working like tigers without jackets now
or bonnets, and as they brought out the supplies of balls through the
passage of victory they received nods of approval from Speug, each nod
being something like a decoration. It was fine to see Speug examining
the balls to see that they were properly made and of a hardness which
would give satisfaction to the expectant Pennies.
Some pleasant incidents occurred during this interlude. When the
Seminary lads fought their way through the passage they cut off the
retreat of three Pennies who were still fighting with MacFarlane on the
top of the right-hand shed.
"What are ye daein' up there?" said Speug, with ironic politeness;
"that's no' the ordinar' road into the Seminary;" and then, as they
hesitated on the edge of the water pipe, Speug conceived what was in
these days a fine form of humour. "Come down," he said, "naebody 'ill
touch ye"; and then he ordered an open passage to be made through the
ranks of the Seminaries. Down between two lines the unfortunate Pennies
walked, no one laying a hand upon them, but various humourists
expressing their hopes that they had enjoyed the top of the shed, that
it wasn't MacFarlane that had given one of them a black eye, that they
hoped one of them hadn't lost his jacket on the roof of the shed, and
that they were none the worse for their exertion, and that they expected
to meet them later on--which gracious salutations the Pennies received
in bitter silence as they ran the gauntlet; and when they had escaped
clear of the Seminaries and stood halfway between the two armies they
turned round with insulting gestures, and one of them cried, "Ye'll get
yir paiks (thrashing) for this or the day be done!"