Part 19 (1/2)
Shadow landed on the shoulders of Nat Poole, and both went down and rolled over. In a spirit of play some of the students near by covered the rolling pair with shavings and straw. Shadow took this in good part and merely laughed as he arose, but the money-lender's son was angry.
”Hi, who threw those dirty shavings all over me?” he bawled. ”I don't like it.”
”Don't mind a little bath like that, Nat!” called one of the students.
”But I do mind it. The shavings are full of dirt, and so is the straw.
The dirt is all over me.”
”Never mind, you can have a free bath, Nat,” said another.
”I'll lend you a cake of soap,” added a third.
”I don't want any of your soap!” growled the money-lender's son. ”Say, the whole crowd of you make me sick!” he added, and walked off, in great disgust.
”Phew! but he's touchy,” was the comment of one of the students. ”I guess he thinks he's better than the rest of us.”
”Let's give him another dose,” came the suggestion, from the rear of the crowd.
”Shavings?”
”Yes, and straw, too. Put some down his neck!”
”Right you are!”
Fully a dozen students quickly provided themselves with shavings and straw, both far from clean, and made after Nat, who was walking up the river-front in the direction of the boathouse.
Before the money-lender's son could do anything to defend himself, he found himself seized from behind and hurled to the ground.
”Now then, give it to him good!” cried a voice, and in a twinkling a shower of shavings, straw, and dirt descended upon poor Nat, covering him from head to foot.
”Hi! let up!” spluttered the victim, trying to dodge the avalanche.
But instead of heeding his pleadings the other students proceeded to ram a quant.i.ty of the stuff into his ears and down his collar. Nat squirmed and yelled, but it did little good.
”Now then, you are initiated into the Order of Straw and Shavings!”
cried one merry student.
”Just you wait, I'll get square, see if I don't,” howled Nat, as he arose. Then he commenced to twist his neck, to free himself from the ticklish straw and shavings.
”Come on and have a good time, old sport!” howled one of his tormentors; and then off the crowd ran in the direction of the bonfires, leaving Nat more disgusted than ever.
”I'll fix them, just wait and see if I don't!” stormed the money-lender's son to himself, and then hurried to the Hall, to clean up and make himself comfortable.
In the meantime the march around the campus had begun, each student carrying a torch of some kind. There was a great singing.
”Be careful of the fire,” warned Mr. Dale, as he came out. ”Doctor Clay says you must be careful.”
”We'll take care!” was the cry.
The marching at an end, some of the boys ran for the stables and presently returned with Jackson Lemond, the driver of the school carryall, commonly called Horsehair, because of the hairs which clung to his clothing.