by Morgan Scott
CHAPTER XIII
THE PROFESSOR'S APPEAL.
Looking careworn and old, Professor Richardson called the first sessionto order on Monday morning. The scholars and the two assistantinstructors were assembled in the big main room. Every one seemed tofeel that there was something unusual impending, and all eyes wereturned upon the sober face of the aged principal as he pushed hisgold-rimmed spectacles up upon his forehead and tapped gently butauthoritatively upon his desk.
"It becomes my duty to speak of an unpleasant matter," said theprofessor, in a voice a trifle husky from the effect of a cold. "Forsome time I have felt that I would have to face this necessity. I haveheld my present position with this institution for eighteen years, whichis a trifle more than one-fourth of man's alloted span of life, threescore and ten--a very long time. When I took up my work here I scarcelyfancied it would continue so long, and at least twice in the earlieryears of my stay I had opportunities to go elsewhere in the samecapacity. One of these opportunities, the second which presented itself,was very tempting, and I debated not a little with myself regarding theadvisability of accepting. At that time, however, I had just begun tofeel myself bound to Oakdale Academy by strong yet tender ties, and itwas my heart rather than my head which led me at last to decline thealluring offer. I have now been here so long that Oakdale, more than anyother place I know, seems like home, and it is my hope to remain hereamong my many kind friends as long as I live.
"Necessarily, there have been some unpleasant features in connectionwith my services as principal of this academy, but, for the most part, Iam happy to say that pleasant memories predominate. Having felt that mylife work was to be teaching, I have ever sought to perform that work asfaithfully and thoroughly and conscientiously as possible. Nor do Ithink I have neglected striving to enter into sympathy with my pupils; Ihave always sought to understand their varying natures, to makeallowances for their natural faults and failings, and to encourage alltheir worthy desires and ambitions. This is by far a more difficultthing for a teacher than may seem possible to the youthful mind. Thedifference in years, which must necessarily exist between instructor andpupils, is bound to produce a pronounced difference in habits, methodsof thought and the viewpoint from which life in general is regarded, andthat instructor who has the ability always to put himself in sympathywith the young mind beneath his guidance is indeed fortunate.
"In the last eighteen years athletics and allied sports, as relating toschools and colleges, have made amazing progress. I will not enter intoa discussion as to whether such things have not obtained too powerful ahold upon our modern institutions of learning, for that really haslittle bearing upon what I wish to say. In my boyhood, baseball was,indeed, a very crude sort of a game, and football was practicallyunknown in this country. At the present time there is in America noschool or college of importance attended by males that does not have itsbaseball and football teams; and other similar games, such as ice hockeyand basketball, have become amazingly popular, the latter even beingplayed by teams made up of girl students.
"I am aware that many young school instructors have fostered andencouraged such tendencies, some of them even taking part in thecoaching of teams made up from their pupils. Nevertheless, had I myselfat one time been an enthusiast in such sports, I sincerely doubt if Iever should have felt it either my duty or my place to follow theexample of such instructors. For it seems to me that there is, or shouldbe, a distinct dividing line over which the conscientious principal of aschool may not wisely step.
"I maintain that I am not prejudiced against any healthy, beneficialsport or pastime in which students may indulge, unless it is carried tothat excess which threatens physical injury or infringes upon andretards mental advancement. When, however, a student becomes so wrappedup and absorbed in baseball that he neglects his studies and can seem tothink of nothing save the game that has fixed its subtle but damaginggrip upon him, I am of the firm belief that it is high time somethingshould be done. When I see naturally bright students falling back intheir classes, recklessly refusing to give a proper amount of time tostudies and openly declaring their resentment at the old fogy idea thatmental training is first and foremost the great object of all schoolsfor the young, I unhesitatingly assert that those boys are being injuredby the present craze for sport.
"It has been my purpose, as far as possible, to restrain such mistakenfanaticism. As far as possible I have always tried to appeal directly tothe misguided boy himself, and up to the present term I pride myselfthat I have succeeded fairly well. This spring, however, my task hasbecome more difficult, and my efforts have, I regret to say, producedresults far from satisfactory to me. I am aware that behind my back Ihave been more or less derided by certain scholars. It has been all tooapparent that a new feeling of rebellion against interference from mehas crept into the school. This feeling has steadily increased, until oflate it has developed into downright defiance of my authority anddesires. It has affected discipline. It has led me at last to make thisdirect appeal to you, scholars, as a body.
"Even if the day of corporal punishment had not practically passed, I amsure, were I physically capable, I would not resort to such measures inorder to maintain discipline. Nevertheless, I will admit that there arescholars to-day who cannot be reached by appeal or moral suasion, yetwho doubtless would be led to see the error of their ways by physicalsuasion. They are generally the leaders in defiance of discipline; suchfellows as smoke upon the grounds and in the building, regardless ofrules or requests to desist; such as use bad language, absent themselvesfrom classes, or repeatedly appear in classes only to declare themselvesunprepared. With pernicious ingenuity they devise all sorts of methodsto break rules and regulations and to defy their instructors, whom theyfoolishly seem to regard not as their friends but as their enemies.
"There are such boys in this school. They are fostering dissension,defiance of authority, and are priming themselves and their associatesfor downright and open rebellion. I think I know them all. If I chose, Icould give their names, but I will not do so--now. Not only is theirinfluence harmful in the classroom, but it is seriously injurious tothose with whom they associate outside the confines and hours of school.One such lad may do an incalculable amount of injury to others. Theexample of every human being is bound to have some effect upon thosewith whom he associates, and they will be polluted, just as a clearriver is polluted by a foul tributary. Some of his worst self such a ladpours into those with whom he comes in contact.
"There's an old saying that boys will be boys. Boys can be boys andstill be decent. There is nothing reprehensible in the naturalboisterous high spirits of a vigorous young animal; it is only when suchhigh spirits and vigor is misdirected, that it becomes injurious. Many atime, as I have watched a band of youngsters frolicking naturally in thesheer joy of bounding youth, I have felt a tugging at my heartstringsand a regret for that which the years have taken from me. Always,however, when they have been my scholars, there has been a sort of deeppleasure and satisfaction mingled with that regret; for it has seemedthat, in a way, they were a part of my life, and that my associationwith them repaid me in a measure for the loss of that splendid thingwhich time had filched from me.
"But when I have known that certain scholars were breaking rules anddefying authority with malicious perverseness, I have felt more thanresentment or anger--I have felt sorrow. When I have seen, as hassometimes happened of late, my boys banding together at night uponstreet corners, behaving offensively, moving surreptitiously, betrayingby unmistakeable signs that they were engaged in stealthy and secretpurposes, my alarm and distress has overcome both anger and sorrow. Ihave not known just what was taking place, but I have felt that therewere things happening which ought not to happen. I have felt sure,likewise, that something bad was bound to come of it.
"This brings me to speak of Roy Hooker. I am sure you all know abouthim. Roy is not a bad boy, his inclinations are not pernicious, yet I amaware that he has been associating with those who could do him no
good.On Saturday night, at a late hour, he met with an injury--an injury fromwhich, perhaps, he may never recover. This injury was inflicted by oneor more blows upon the head, and it seems to have deprived him of thepower of speech and memory. Since that time he has scarcely spoken halfa dozen coherent words. It is not at all probable that Roy was injuredin this manner while alone, yet up to the present time no associate ofhis has had the manhood to come forward and tell precisely how ithappened.
"This seems to me evidence enough that Roy was hurt in a manner that wasregarded as shameful, if not actually criminal. Otherwise, why shouldthe person or persons with him at the time take so much pains to preventthe truth of the matter from becoming known? Whoever they were, theyhave shown a lack of courage that seems absolutely cowardly. I'm certainthere's not one of them who does not carry in his breast a torturedconscience, and this is one of the most certain punishments forwrong-doing. The evil-doer, if he possesses any of the finer humansensibilities, must always endure the writhings of a wounded conscience.If Roy Hooker should not recover, those responsible for his conditionmust bear all through life a sickening burden.
"Let us, however, hope for the best. I have talked with Dr. Grindle thismorning, and he encouraged me to believe that Roy would come through allright. It is not impossible that he may recover sufficiently to-day totell precisely what happened. In that case, unless others come forwardwithout delay, it will be too late for them to escape the brand ofcowardice. It may require an amount of moral courage to confess thetruth, but such a confession will partly atone for the silence so farmaintained. Time is fleeting."
But if Professor Richardson expected any of his scholars to come forwardat once with a confession he was disappointed; and, after severalminutes of waiting, during which he busied himself by pretending toarrange some papers on his desk, he slowly returned his spectacles totheir usual place astride his thin nose and regretfully announced thatthe regular course of the session would be taken up.