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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Three cheers for Old -Mr. Jones, the principal!" yelled Dan Dalzell, as the scrambling to get out began. Needless to say, the cheers were given. Now that the ordeal was over, it was nothing to the discredit of fine Old Dut that the youngsters would have cheered a yellow dog had they been so requested. Old Dut had slipped down to the egress.
Just then a lithe figure shot in between the boys and their promised assailant. "Stand back, you hound!" ordered the newcomer angrily. "This is a matter for men. You and I will attend to each other!" "Old Dut!" breathed Dick Prescott in the intensity of his astonishment. "Yes, it's I," announced the principal of the Central Grammar coolly. "This is more in my line." Mr.
Then the poor fellow will have a good chance to get off with a whole skin!" "Cut out that line of talk," ordered Hazelton, his face growing red. "Back in the old home days, Tom, you've seen me do some great shooting." "With the putty-blower -yes," Tom admitted, with a chuckle. "Say, wasn't Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?"
We know what we know of them back in the days when they attended the Central Grammar School and studied under that veteran of teachers, "Old Dut," as he was affectionately known. We saw them with the same chums, of Dick & Co., when that famous sextette of schoolboys entered High School. We are wholly familiar with their spirited course in the High School.
"Old Dut will know enough to be here," remarked one of the Central boys proudly. "Nothing but disaster could keep him from showing interest in our work." Cheering was started by a big group of North Grammar boys. A stage had just been sighted, and this bore the North Grammar's diamond champions.
"It's all over," sighed Tom Reade outside the gate. "Somehow, I wish that I had another year to go -or else that I'd been a little more decent to Old Dut." "It was a good old school," sighed Dick, looking back almost regretfully. "And, by the way " "Speech, Dick!" cried a dozen of the boys, crowding around him. "Get out!" laughed Prescott. "I spoke my piece two hours ago."
Captain Dick Prescott, of the Central Grammar nine, had called practice for that afternoon, from half past four to six o'clock. At recess, that afternoon, a pleasant, somewhat rotund-looking man was seen engaged in conversation with Old Dut in a corner of the schoolyard.
All will be allowed to go and see the great, the glorious game." Then, after a pause, Old Dut added dryly: "I haven't the heart to keep any one after school to-day. I am going to the game myself." At this statement a laugh rippled around the room. Then every boy and girl settled down to the serious business of the day.
I don't reckon it's dese yer new come folks es hev des' sprouted outer de dut es is gwine ter " At this instant the sound of a vehicle reached them, gaining upon them from the direction of Kingsborough, and they fell to one side of the road, leaving room for the horses to pass. It was the Battle carriage, rolling heavily on its aged wheels and creaking beneath the general's weight.
De Kernel dat sof' in his heart, he dare n' press 'em; some of 'em is ole fo'ty-niners, like hisself, sah; and some is Spanish, sah, and dey is sof' too, and ain't no more gumption dan chilleren, and tink it's ole time come ag'in, and dey's in de ole places like afo' de Mexican wah! and dey don' bin payin' noffin'. But we gets along, sah, we gets along, not in de prima facie style, sah! mebbe not in de modden way dut de Kernel don't like; but we keeps ourse'f, sah, and has wine fo' our friends.
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