DORMITORY LIFE
[Greek: Aspasiae trillistos hepaeluths nux herebennae.]
HOM.
For a few days after the Sunday walk narrated in the last chapter, Upton
and Eric cut each other dead. Upton was angry at Eric’s declining the
honor of his company, and Eric was piqued at Upton’s unreasonableness.
In the “taking up” system, such quarrels were of frequent occurrence,
and as the existence of a misunderstanding was generally indicated in
this very public way, the variations of good will between such friends
generally excited no little notice and amusement among the other boys.
But both Upton and Eric were too sensible to carry their differences so
far as others similarly circumstanced; each thoroughly enjoyed the
other’s company, and they generally seized an early opportunity for
effecting a reconciliation, which united them more firmly than ever.
As soon as Eric had got over his little pique, he made the first
advances, by writing a note to Upton, which he slipped under his study
door, and which ran as follows:--
“Dear Horace--Don’t let us quarrel about nothing. Silly fellow, why
should you be angry with me because for once I wanted to go a walk with
Russell, who, by the bye, is twice as good a fellow as you? I shall
expect you to make it up directly after prayers.--Yours, if you are not
silly, E.W.”
The consequence was, that as they came out from prayers, Upton seized
Eric’s hand, and slapped him on the back, after which they had a good
laugh over their own foolish fracas, and ran up stairs chattering
merrily.
“There’s to be an awful lark in the dormitories tonight,” said Eric;
“the doctor’s gone to a dinner-party, and we’re going to have no end
of fun.”
“Are you? Well, if it gets amusing, come to my study and tell me, I’ll
come and look on.”
“Very well; depend upon it, I’ll come.” And they parted at the foot of
the study stairs.
It was Mr. Rose’s night of duty. He walked slowly up and down the range
of Dormitories until every boy seemed ready to get into bed, and then he
put out all the candles. So long as he was present, the boys observed
the utmost quiet and decorum. All continued quite orderly until he had
passed away through the lavatory, and one of the boys following him as a
scout, had seen the last glimmer of his candle disappear round the
corner at the foot of the great staircase, and heard the library door
close behind him.
After that, particularly as Dr. Rowlands was absent, the boys knew that
they were safe from disturbance, and the occupants of No. 7 were the
first to stir.
“Now for some fun,” said Duncan, starting up, and by way of initiative
pitching his pillow at Eric’s head.
“I’ll pay you out for that when I’m ready,” said Eric, laughing; “but
give us a match, first.”
Duncan produced some vestas, and no sooner had they lighted their
candle, than several of the dormitory doors began to be thrown open, and
one after another all requested a light, which Duncan and Eric conveyed
to them in a sort of emulous lampadephoria, so that a length all the
twelve dormitories had their sconces lit, and the boys began all sorts
of amusement, some in their night-shirts and others with their trousers
slipped on. Leap-frog was the prevalent game for a time, but at last
Graham suggested theatricals, and they were agreed on.
“But we’re making a regular knock-me-down shindy,” said Llewellyn;
“somebody must keep cavè.”
“O, old Rose is safe enough at his Hebrew in the library; no fear of
disturbing him if we were dancing hippopotami,” answered Graham.
But it was generally considered safest to put some one at the top of the
stairs, in case of an unexpected diversion in that direction, and little
Wright consented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory door
open; and stand at the top of the staircase, and he then commanded for a
great distance the only avenue in which danger was expected. If any
master’s candle appeared n the hall, the boys had full three minutes’
warning, and a single loudly-whispered “cave” would cause some one in
each dormitory instantly to “douse the glim,” and shut the door; so that
by the time of the adversary’s arrival, they would all be (of course)
fast asleep in bed, some of them snoring in an alarming manner. Whatever
noise the master might have heard, it would be impossible to fix it on
any of the sleepers.
So at the top of the stairs stood little Wright, shoeless, and shivering
in his night-gown, but keenly entering into the fun, and not
unconscious of the dignity of his position. Meanwhile the rest were
getting up a scenic representation of Bombastes Furioso, arranging a
stage, piling a lot of beds together for a theatre, and dressing up the
actors in the most fantastic apparel.
The impromptu Bombastes excited universal applause, and just at the end
Wright ran in through the lavatory.
“I say,” said the little fellow, “it’s jolly cold standing at the top of
the stairs. Won’t some one relieve guard?”
“O, I will,” answered Eric, good-naturedly; “it’s a shame that one
fellow should have all the bother and none of the fun;” and he ran to
take Wright’s post.
After watching a minute or two, he felt sure that there was no danger,
and therefore ran up to Upton’s study for a change.
“Well, what’s up?” said the study-boy, approvingly, as he glanced at
Eric’s laughing eyes.
“O, we’ve been having leap-frog, and then Bombastes Furioso. But I’m
keeping ‘cavè’ now; only it’s so cold that I thought I’d run up to
your study.”
“Little traitor; we’ll shoot you for a deserting sentinel.”
“O no;” said Eric, “it’s all serene; Rowley’s out, and dear old Rose’d
never dream of supposing us elsewhere than in the arms of Morpheus.
Besides the fellows are making less row now.”
“Well! look here! let’s go and look on, and I’ll tell you a dodge; put
one of the tin washing-basins against the iron door of the lavatory, and
then if any one comes he’ll make clang enough to wake dead; and while
he’s amusing himself with this, there’ll be lots of time to ‘extinguish
the superfluous abundance of the nocturnal illuminators.’ Eh?”
“Capital!” said Eric, “come along.”
They went down and arranged the signal very artistically, leaving the
iron door ajar a little, and then neatly poising the large tin basin on
its edge, so as to lean against it. Having extremely enjoyed this part
of the proceeding, they went to look at the theatricals again, the boys
being highly delighted at Upton’s appearance among them.
They at once made Eric take a part in some very distant reminiscences of
Macbeth, and corked his cheeks with whiskers and mustachios to make him
resemble Banquo, his costume being completed by a girdle round his
nightshirt, consisting of a very fine crimson silk handkerchief, richly
broidered with gold, which had been brought to him from India, and which
at first, in the innocence of his heart, he used to wear on Sundays,
until he acquired the sobriquet of “the Dragon.” Duncan made a
superb Macbeth.
They were doing the dagger-scene, which was put on the stage in a most
novel manner. A sheet had been pinned from the top of the room, on one
side of which stood a boy with a broken dinner knife, the handle end of
which he was pushing through a hole in the middle of the sheet at the
shadow of Duncan on the other side.
Duncan himself, in an attitude of intensely affected melodrama, was
spouting--
“Is this a dagger which I see before me?
The handle towards me now? come, let me clutch thee;”
And he snatched convulsively at the handle of the protruded knife; but
as soon as he nearly touched it, this end was immediately withdrawn, and
the blade end substituted, which made the comic Macbeth instantly draw
back again, and recommence his apostrophe. This scene had tickled the
audience immensely, and Duncan, amid shouts of laughter, was just
drawing the somewhat unwarrantable conclusion that it was
“A dagger of the mind, a false creation,”
when a sudden grating, followed by a reverbrated clang, produced a dead
silence.
“Cavè,” shouted Eric, and took a flying leap into his bed. Instantly
there was a bolt in different directions; the sheet was torn down, the
candles dashed out, the beds shoved aside, and the dormitories at once
plunged in profound silence, only broken by the heavy breathing of
sleepers, when in strode--not Mr. Rose or any of the under
masters--but--Dr. Rowlands himself!
He stood for a moment to survey the scene. All the dormitory doors were
wide open; the sheet which had formed the stage curtain lay torn on the
floor of No. 7; the beds in all the adjoining rooms were in the
strangest positions; and half-extinguished wicks still smouldered in
several of the sconces. Every boy was in bed, but the extraordinary way
in which the bed clothes were huddled about told an unmistakeable tale.
He glanced quickly round, but the moment he had passed into No. 8, he
heard a run, and, turning, just caught sight of Upton’s figure vanishing
into the darkness of the lavatory, towards the study stairs.
He said not a word, but stalked hastily through all dormitories, again
stopping at No. 7 on his return.
He heard nothing but the deep snores of Duncan, and instantly fixed on
him as a chief culprit.
“Duncan!”
No reply; but calm stertorous music from Duncan’s bed.
“Duncan!” he said, still louder and more sternly, “you sleep soundly,
sir, too soundly; get up directly,” and he laid his hand on the
boy’s arm.
“Get away, you old donkey,” said Duncan sleepily; “’t, aint time to get
up yet. First bell hasn’t rung.”
“Come, sir, this shamming will only increase your punishment;” but the
imperturbable Duncan stretched himself lazily, gave a great yawn, and
then awoke with such an admirably feigned start at seeing Dr. Rowlands,
that Eric, who had been peeping at the scene from over his bed-clothes,
burst into an irresistible explosion of laughter.
Dr. Rowlands swung round on his heel--“What! Williams! get out of bed,
sir, this instant.”
Eric, forgetful of his disguise, sheepishly obeyed; but when he stood on
the floor, he looked so odd in his crimson girdle and corked cheeks,
with Dr. Rowlands surveying him in intense astonishment, that the scene
became overpoweringly ludicrous to Duncan, who now in his turn was
convulsed with a storm of laughter, faintly echoed in stifled titterings
from other beds.
“_Very_ good,” said Dr. Rowlands, now thoroughly angry, “you will hear
of this to-morrow;” and he walked away with a heavy step, stopping at
the lavatory door to restore the tin basin to its proper place, and then
mounting to the studies.
Standing in the passage into which the studies opened, he knocked at
one of the doors, and told a boy to summon all their occupants at once
to the library.
Meanwhile, the dormitory-boys were aghast, and as soon as they heard the
doctor’s retreating footsteps, began flocking in the dark to No. 7, not
daring to relight their candles.
“Good gracious!” said Attlay, “only to think of Rowley appearing! How
could he have twigged?”
“He must have seen our lights in the window as he came home,” said Eric.
“I say, what a row that tin-basin dodge of yours made! What a rage the
Doctor will be in to-morrow?”
“Won’t you just catch it!” said Barker to Duncan, but intending the
remark for Eric.
“Just like your mean chaff,” retorted Duncan. “But I say, Williams,” he
continued, laughing, “you _did_ look so funny in the whiskers.”
At this juncture they heard all the study-boys running down stairs to
the library, and, lost in conjecture, retired to their different rooms.
“What do you think he’ll do to us?” asked Eric.
“I don’t know,” said Duncan uneasily; “flog us, for one thing, that’s
certain. I’m so sorry about that basin, Eric; but it’s no good fretting.
We’ve had our cake, and now we must pay for it, that’s all.”
Eric’s cogitations began to be unpleasant, when the door opened, and
somebody stole noiselessly in.
“Who’s there?”
“Upton. I’ve come to have a chat. The Doctor’s like a turkey-cock in
sight of a red handkerchief. Never saw him in such a rage.”
“Why, what’s he been saying?” asked Eric, as Upton came and took a seat
on his bed.
“Oh! he’s been rowing us like six o’clock,” said Upton, “about ‘moral
responsibility,’ ‘abetting the follies of children,’ ‘forgetting our
position in the school,’ and I don’t know what all; and he ended by
asking who’d been in the dormitories. Of course I confessed the soft
impeachment, whereon he snorted ‘Ha! I suspected so. Very well, Sir, you
don’t know how to use a study; you shall be deprived of it till the end
of term.’”
“Did he really, Horace?” said Eric. “And it’s all my doing that you’ve
got into the scrape. Do forgive me.”
“Bosh! My dear fellow,” said Upton, “it’s twice as much my fault as
yours; and, after all, it was only a bit of fun. It’s rather a bore
losing the study, certainly; but never mind, we shall see all the more
of each other. Good night; I must be off.”
Next morning, prayers were no sooner over than Dr. Rowlands said to the
boys, “Stop! I have a word to say to you.”
“I find that there was the utmost disorder in the dormitories yesterday
evening. All the candles were relighted at forbidden hours, and the
noise made was so great that it was heard through the whole building. I
am grieved that I cannot leave you, even for a few hours, without your
taking such advantage of my absence; and that the upper boys, so far
from using their influence to prevent these infractions of discipline,
seem inclined rather to join in them themselves. On this occasion I have
punished Upton, by depriving him of a privilege which he has abused; and
as I myself detected Duncan and Williams, they will be flogged in the
library at twelve. But I now come to the worst part of the proceeding.
Somebody had been reckless enough to try and prevent surprise by the
dangerous expedient of putting a tin basin against the iron door. The
consequence was, that I was severely hurt, and _might_ have been
seriously injured in entering the lavatory. I must know the name of the
delinquent.”
Upton and Eric immediately stood up. Dr. Rowlands looked surprised, and
there was an expression of grieved interest in Mr. Rose’s face.
“Very well,” said the Doctor, “I shall speak to you both privately.”
Twelve o’clock came, and Duncan and Eric received a severe caning.
Corporal punishment, however necessary and desirable for some
dispositions, always produced on Eric the worst effects. He burned, not
with remorse or regret, but with shame and violent indignation, and
listened, with a glare in his eye, to Dr. Rowlands’ warnings. When the
flogging was over, he almost rushed out of the room, to choke in
solitude his sense of humiliation, nor would he suffer any one for an
instant to allude to his disgrace. Dr. Rowlands had hinted that Upton
was doing him no good; but he passionately resented the suggestion, and
determined, with obstinate perversity, to cling more than ever to the
boy whom he had helped to involve in the same trouble with himself.
Any attempt on the part of masters to interfere in the friendships of
boys is usually unsuccessful. The boy who has been warned against his
new acquaintance not seldom repeats to him the fact that Mr. So-and-so
doesn’t like seeing them together, and after that they fancy themselves
bound in honor to show that they are not afraid of continuing their
connection. It was not strange, therefore, that Eric and Upton were
thrown more than ever into each other’s society, and consequently, that
Eric, while he improved daily in strength, activity, and prowess,
neglected more and more his school duties and honorable ambitions.
Mr. Rose sadly remarked the failure of promise in his character and
abilities, and did all that could be done, by gentle firmness and
unwavering kindness, to recal his pupil to a sense of duty. One night he
sent for him to supper, and invited no one else. During the evening he
drew out Eric’s exercise, and compared it with, those of Russell and
Owen, who were now getting easily ahead of him in marks. Eric’s was
careless, hurried, and untidy; the other two were neat, spirited, and
painstaking, and had, therefore, been marked much higher.
“Your exercises _used_ to be far better--I may say incomparably better,”
said Mr. Rose; “what is the cause of this falling off?”
Eric was silent.
Mr. Rose laid his hand gently on his head. “I fear, my boy, you have not
been improving lately. You have got into many scrapes, and are letting
boys beat you in form who are far your inferiors in ability. That is a
very bad _sign_, Eric; in itself it is a discouraging fact, but I fear
it indicates worse evils. You are wasting the golden hours, my boy, that
can never return. I only hope and trust that no other change for the
worse is going on in your character.”
And so he talked on till the boy’s sorrow was undisguised. “Come,” he
said gently, “let us kneel down together before we part.”
Boy and master knelt down humbly side by side, and, from a full heart,
the young man poured out his fervent petitions for the child beside him.
Eric’s heart seemed to catch a glow from his words, and he loved him as
a brother. He rose from his knees full of the strongest resolutions, and
earnestly promised amendment for the future.
But poor Eric did not yet know his own infirmity. For a time, indeed,
there was a marked improvement; but daily life flowed on with its usual
allurements, and when the hours of temptation came, his good intentions
melted away, so that, in a few more weeks, the prayer, and the vows that
followed it, had been obliterated from his memory without leaving any
traces in his life.