Glengarry Schooldays [28]
affair was growing serious. The girls were beginning to sob, and the bigger boys to grow pale.
"Now, James, will you hold out your hand? You see how much worse you are making it for yourself," said the master, who was heartily sick of the struggle, which he felt to be undignified, and the result of which he feared was dubious.
But Jimmie only kept up his cry, now punctuated with sobs, "I'm-- not--taking--anything--to do--with--you."
"Jimmie, listen to me," said the master. "You must hold out your hand. I cannot have boys refusing to obey me in this school." But Jimmie caught the entreaty in the tone, and knowing that the battle was nearly over, kept obstinately silent.
"Well, then," said the master, suddenly, "you must take it," and lifting the strap, he laid it with such sharp emphasis over Jimmie's shoulders that Jimmie's voice rose in a wilder roar than usual, and the girls burst into audible weeping.
Suddenly, above all the hubbub, rose a voice, clear and sharp.
"Stop!" It was Thomas Finch, of all people, standing with face white and tense, and regarding the master with steady eyes.
The school gazed thunderstruck at the usually slow and stolid Thomas.
"What do you mean, sir?" said the master, gladly turning from Jimmie. But Thomas stood silent, as much surprised as the master at his sudden exclamation.
He stood hesitating for a moment, and then said, "You can thrash me in his place. He's a little chap, and has never been thrashed."
The master misunderstood his hesitation for fear, pushed Jimmie aside, threw down his strap, and seized a birch rod.
"Come forward, sir! I'll put an end to your insubordination, at any rate. Hold out your hand!"
Thomas held out his hand till the master finished one birch rod.
"The other hand, sir!"
Another birch rod was used up, but Thomas neither uttered a sound nor made a move till the master had done, then he asked, in a strained voice, "Were you going to give Jimmie all that, sir?"
The master caught the biting sneer in the tone, and lost himself completely.
"Do you dare to answer me back?" he cried. He opened his desk, took out a rawhide, and without waiting to ask for his hand, began to lay the rawhide about Thomas's shoulders and legs, till he was out of breath.
"Now, perhaps you will learn your place, sir," he said.
"Thank you," said Thomas, looking him steadily in the eye.
"You are welcome. And I'll give you as much more whenever you show that you need it." The slight laugh with which he closed this brutal speech made Thomas wince as he had not during his whole terrible thrashing, but still he had not a word to say.
"Now, James, come here!" said the master, turning to Jimmie. "You see what happens when a boy is insubordinate." Jimmie came trembling. "Hold out your hand!" Out came Jimmie's hand at once. Whack! fell the strap.
"The other!"
"Stop it!" roared Thomas. "I took his thrashing."
"The other!" said the master, ignoring Thomas.
With a curious savage snarl Thomas sprung at him. The master, however, was on the alert, and swinging round, met him with a straight facer between the eyes, and Thomas went to the floor.
"Aha! my boy! I'll teach you something you have yet to learn."
For answer came another cry, "Come on, boys!" It was Ranald Macdonald, coming over the seats, followed by Don Cameron, Billy Ross, and some smaller boys. The master turned to meet them.
"Come along!" he said, backing up to his desk. "But I warn you it's not a strap or a rawhide I shall use."
Ranald paid no attention to his words, but came straight toward him, and when at arm's length, sprung at him with the cry, "Horo, boys!"
But before he could lay his hands upon the master, he received a blow straight on the bridge of the nose that staggered him back, stunned and bleeding. By this time Thomas was up again, and rushing in was received in like manner, and fell back over a bench.
"How do you like it, boys?" smiled the master. "Come right along."
The boys obeyed his invitation, approaching him,
"Now, James, will you hold out your hand? You see how much worse you are making it for yourself," said the master, who was heartily sick of the struggle, which he felt to be undignified, and the result of which he feared was dubious.
But Jimmie only kept up his cry, now punctuated with sobs, "I'm-- not--taking--anything--to do--with--you."
"Jimmie, listen to me," said the master. "You must hold out your hand. I cannot have boys refusing to obey me in this school." But Jimmie caught the entreaty in the tone, and knowing that the battle was nearly over, kept obstinately silent.
"Well, then," said the master, suddenly, "you must take it," and lifting the strap, he laid it with such sharp emphasis over Jimmie's shoulders that Jimmie's voice rose in a wilder roar than usual, and the girls burst into audible weeping.
Suddenly, above all the hubbub, rose a voice, clear and sharp.
"Stop!" It was Thomas Finch, of all people, standing with face white and tense, and regarding the master with steady eyes.
The school gazed thunderstruck at the usually slow and stolid Thomas.
"What do you mean, sir?" said the master, gladly turning from Jimmie. But Thomas stood silent, as much surprised as the master at his sudden exclamation.
He stood hesitating for a moment, and then said, "You can thrash me in his place. He's a little chap, and has never been thrashed."
The master misunderstood his hesitation for fear, pushed Jimmie aside, threw down his strap, and seized a birch rod.
"Come forward, sir! I'll put an end to your insubordination, at any rate. Hold out your hand!"
Thomas held out his hand till the master finished one birch rod.
"The other hand, sir!"
Another birch rod was used up, but Thomas neither uttered a sound nor made a move till the master had done, then he asked, in a strained voice, "Were you going to give Jimmie all that, sir?"
The master caught the biting sneer in the tone, and lost himself completely.
"Do you dare to answer me back?" he cried. He opened his desk, took out a rawhide, and without waiting to ask for his hand, began to lay the rawhide about Thomas's shoulders and legs, till he was out of breath.
"Now, perhaps you will learn your place, sir," he said.
"Thank you," said Thomas, looking him steadily in the eye.
"You are welcome. And I'll give you as much more whenever you show that you need it." The slight laugh with which he closed this brutal speech made Thomas wince as he had not during his whole terrible thrashing, but still he had not a word to say.
"Now, James, come here!" said the master, turning to Jimmie. "You see what happens when a boy is insubordinate." Jimmie came trembling. "Hold out your hand!" Out came Jimmie's hand at once. Whack! fell the strap.
"The other!"
"Stop it!" roared Thomas. "I took his thrashing."
"The other!" said the master, ignoring Thomas.
With a curious savage snarl Thomas sprung at him. The master, however, was on the alert, and swinging round, met him with a straight facer between the eyes, and Thomas went to the floor.
"Aha! my boy! I'll teach you something you have yet to learn."
For answer came another cry, "Come on, boys!" It was Ranald Macdonald, coming over the seats, followed by Don Cameron, Billy Ross, and some smaller boys. The master turned to meet them.
"Come along!" he said, backing up to his desk. "But I warn you it's not a strap or a rawhide I shall use."
Ranald paid no attention to his words, but came straight toward him, and when at arm's length, sprung at him with the cry, "Horo, boys!"
But before he could lay his hands upon the master, he received a blow straight on the bridge of the nose that staggered him back, stunned and bleeding. By this time Thomas was up again, and rushing in was received in like manner, and fell back over a bench.
"How do you like it, boys?" smiled the master. "Come right along."
The boys obeyed his invitation, approaching him,