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Most excellent idea, really." "I have a report to make," admitted Mr. Cantwell, in an equally low voice. "I -I find it necessary to make a statement about the doings of a rather troublesome element in the school. Suspension or expulsion may be necessary in order to give the best ideas of good discipline to many of the other students.
The first recitation period of the morning was going by rapidly, but Mr. Cantwell didn't allow that to interfere with his remarks. At last, however, he called for the belated singing. This was in progress when the door opened. Mr. Eldridge, superintendent of schools, entered, followed by Bristow's father. That latter gentleman looked angry. "Mr.
As the village where we intended to rest was only five leagues distant, we did not sally forth till midday was past. There was a haze in the heavens which overcast the sun, nearly hiding his countenance from our view. My friend, Mr. Patrick Cantwell, of the Irish College, was kind enough to ride with me part of the way.
"And you actually expect an apology to restore my new and expensive hat to its former pristine condition of splendor?" "I didn't know you were there, sir," Dick explained. "You didn't appear until just after I had kicked the ball." "Prescott is quite right, Mr. Cantwell," put in Coach Morton.
But I can tell you, my dear, I was a good warrant for a play-boy when I was your age! There wasn't a young girl, no, nor a young man either, that I couldn't dance down if I gave my mind to it!" Christian's response was satisfactory, and Mrs. Cantwell, moved to give a sample of her bygone prowess, executed a hippopotamus-like hop and shuffle among the rustling, orange beech leaves of last year.
"Maybe you're not hurt badly, after all. God! That would be awful " Cantwell choked, turned away, and, raising his arms against the log wall, buried his face in them. The morning broke clear; Grant was sleeping. As Johnny stiffly mounted the creek bank with a bucket of water he heard a jingle of sleighbells and saw a sled with two white men swing in toward the cabin.
Cantwell came back he and the young soph had the great room to themselves. "Now you may come forward, Mr. Prescott," announced the principal, "and stand in front of the platform." As Dick went forward there was nothing of undue confidence or any notion of bravado in his bearing. He was not one of those schoolboys who, when brought to task by authority, try to put on a don't-care look.
Dick waited in some curiosity. "Mr. Prescott, you write for 'The Blade, don't you?" asked Mr. Cantwell. "Sometimes, sir." "Then, Mr. Prescott, please understand that I forbid you to write anything for publication concerning this morning's happenings." Dick remained silent. "You will not, will you?" "That, Mr. Cantwell, is a matter that seems to rest between the editor and myself."
"And I believe you could write it up all right, too. See here, Prescott, just go over to that desk. There's a stack of copy paper there. Write it briefly and crisply, and, for delicacy's sake, leave out all that relates to Mrs. Cantwell. No use in dragging a woman into a hazing scrape." Dick went over to the desk, picking up a pen.
Cantwell to address, before the whole student body, an ample and satisfactory apology to my son. I shall be present to hear that apology myself." "If it is offered," broke in Principal Cantwell, sardonically, but Superintendent Eldridge held up a hand to check him. "If you don't offer the apology, to-morrow morning, and do it properly," retorted Mr.
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