Part 13 (1/2)
CHAPTER VIII
GOOD-BYE TO PUTNAM HALL
”Now, Songbird, give us one of your best poetical effusions,” came from d.i.c.k Rover, after the excitement had died down a little. ”We haven't heard a word out of you for fourteen minutes and a quarter.”
”Yes, Songbird, turn on the poetry spigot and let her flow,” put in Tom.
”Give us something on old schooldays,” came from another cadet.
”Put in a touch of last farewells,” added another.
”Don't forget to speak of the moon and fond memories.”
”Or, shall we ever forget?”
”Or, camping on the old camp-ground, Songbird.”
”And of all things, mention the soup we had last Thursday. No piece of poetry would be complete without that soup.”
”Who's making up poetry about soup?” roared Songbird Powell. But then he grew calmer. ”All right, fellows, here goes.” And he started:
”Of all the days to mem'ry dear, The dearest days are those spent here, When we--”
”That's a libel!” interrupted Tom. ”Captain Putnam's rates are no higher than the rates of other first-cla.s.s academies. I move we cut that verse out, Songbird.”
”I didn't mean the cost of the days spent here.”
”You can't spend anything here,” put in George Granbury. ”You have to go to Cedarville to do your shopping.”
”I'll make a fresh start,” came from Powell, and he warbled:
”Old Putnam Hall I do adore, And love the place as ne'er before, The campus, boathouse, fis.h.i.+ng pier-- The roads that run from far and near-- Each cla.s.sroom is a hallowed spot, Though many lessons are forgot!
The dormitories, bright and clean-- No better rooms were ever seen!
The mess-room, where we gathered oft--”
”To eat our eggs both hard and soft!”
finished up Tom, and then went on:
”The prison wherein I was cast, And thought that day would be my last, The teachers sweet and the teachers sour, And the feasts we held at the midnight hour, The games of ball we lost and won, And the jubilees! What lots of fun!
And then the skating on the ice--”
”When we broke in, 'twas not so nice:”
interrupted George Granbury, referring to a calamity the particulars of which have already been related in ”The Rover Boys in the Mountains.”
And then Songbird Powell took up the strain once more: