"Mr. Crabb," said Wilkins, "this is the new scholar, Roscoe. Mr. Smithasked me to bring him to you."
"Ah, indeed!" said Crabb, adjusting his glasses, which seemed to situneasily on his nose. "I hope you are well, Roscoe?"
"Thank you, sir; my health is good."
"The schoolbell will ring directly. Perhaps you had better come into theschoolroom and select a desk."
"Very well, sir."
"Are you a classical scholar, Roscoe?"
"Yes, sir."
"And how far may you have gone now?" queried Crabb.
"I was reading the fifth book of Virgil when I left off study."
"Really, you are quite a scholar. I suppose you don't know any Greek?"
"I was in the second book of the Anabasis."
"You will go into the first class, then. I hope you will become one ofthe ornaments of the institute."
"Thank you. Is the first class under Mr. Smith?"
"No; I teach the first class," said Crabb, with a modest cough.
"I thought the principal usually took the first class himself?"
"Mr. Smith comes into the room occasionally and supervises, but he hastoo much business on hand to teach regularly himself."
"Is Mr. Smith a good scholar?" asked Hector.
"Ahem!" answered Mr. Crabb, evidently embarrassed; "I presume so. Youshould not ask Ahem! irrelevant questions."
In fact, Mr. Crabb had serious doubts as to the fact assumed. He knewthat whenever a pupil went to the principal to ask a question inLatin or Greek, he was always referred to Crabb himself, or some otherteacher. This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded moment,Mr. Smith had ventured to answer a question himself, and his answer wasludicrously incorrect.
The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with anothersmaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate recitationroom.
"Here is a vacant desk," said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrallysituated.
"I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?"
"Mr. Smith's nephew."
"Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?"
"Hush!" said Crabb, apprehensively. "Mr. Smith would not like to haveyou speak so of his nephew."
"So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad," soliloquized Hector. "I suppose Imay think what I please about him," he added, smiling pleasantly.
"Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be prudent."
"Is he in your class?"
"Yes."
"Is he much of a scholar?"
"I don't think he cares much for Latin and Greek," answered Mr. Crabb."But I must ring the bell. I see that it wants but five minutes ofnine."
"About my desk?"
"Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located."
"Never mind. I will take it. I shall probably have a better neighbor."
The bell was rung. Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, wholooked as if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty yearsof teaching. He, too, was shabbily dressed--his coat being shiny andnapless, and his vest lacking two out of the five original buttons.
"I guess Smith doesn't pay very high salaries," thought Hector. "Poorfellows. His teachers look decidedly seedy."
The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as manymore who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars. JimSmith stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his seatcarelessly. He looked around him patronizingly. He felt that he wasmaster of the situation. Both ushers and all the pupils stood in fear ofhim, as he well knew. Only to his uncle did he look up as his superior,and he took care to be on good terms with him, as it was essential tothe maintenance of his personal authority.
Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into theschoolroom with the air of a commanding general, followed by AllanRoscoe, who he had invited to see the school in operation.
Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his handmajestically.
"My young friends," he said; "this is a marked day. We have with us anew boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our happyfamily, to share in the estimable advantages which you all enjoy. Need Isay that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our distinguished friend,Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with interest, I am sure,surveys our institute?"
As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an acknowledgment.
"I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the progressthey have made under my charge. (The principal quietly ignored the twoushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys have reached a highposition in the world, it will be my proudest boast that they wereprepared for the duties of life at Smith Institute. Compared with thisproud satisfaction, the few paltry dollars I exact as my honorarium arenothing--absolutely nothing."
Socrates looked virtuous and disinterested as he gave utterance to thissentiment.
"And now, boys, you will commence your daily exercises, under thedirection of my learned associates, Mr. Crabb and Mr. Jones."
Mr. Crabb looked feebly complacent at this compliment, though he knew itwas only because a visitor was present. In private, Socrates was ratherapt to speak slightingly of his attainments.
"While I am absent with my distinguished friend, Mr. Roscoe, I expectyou to pursue your studies diligently, and preserve the most perfectorder."
With these words, the stately figure of Socrates passed through thedoor, followed by Mr. Roscoe.
"A pleasant sight, Mr. Roscoe," said the principal; "this company ofambitious, aspiring students, all pressing forward eagerly in pursuit oflearning?"
"Quite true, sir," answered Allan Roscoe.
"I wish you could stay with us for a whole day, to inspect at yourleisure the workings of our educational system."
"Thank you, Mr. Smith," answered Mr. Roscoe, with an inward shudder;"but I have important engagements that call me away immediately."
"Then we must reluctantly take leave of you. I hope you will feel easyabout your nephew--"
"My ward," corrected Allan Roscoe.
"I beg your pardon--I should have remembered--your ward."
"I leave him, with confidence, in your hands, my dear sir."
So Allan Roscoe took his leave.
Let us look in upon the aspiring and ambitious scholars, after Mr. Smithleft them in charge of the ushers.
Jim Smith signalized his devotion to study by producing an apple core,and throwing it with such skillful aim that it struck Mr. Crabb in theback of the head.
The usher turned quickly, his face flushed with wild indignation.
"Who threw that missile?" he asked, in a vexed tone.
Of course no one answered.
"I hope no personal disrespect was intended," continued the usher.
Again no answer.
"Does anyone know who threw it?" asked Mr. Crabb.
"I think it was the new scholar," said Jim Smith, with a malicious lookat Hector.
"Master Roscoe," said Mr. Crabb, with a pained look, "I hope you havenot started so discreditably in your school life."
"No, sir," answered Hector; "I hope I am not so ungentlemanly. I don'tlike to be an informer, but I saw Smith himself throw it at you. As hehas chosen to lay it to me, I have no hesitation in exposing him."
Jim Smith's face flushed with anger.
"I'll get even with you, you young muff!" he said.
"Whenever you please!" said Hector, disdainfully.
"Really, young gentlemen, these proceedings are very irregular!" saidMr. Crabb, feebly.
With Jim Smith he did not remonstrate at all, though he had no doubtthat Hector's charge was rightly made.
CHAPTER IX. THE CLASS IN VIRGIL.
Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute Page 8