The Story of Paul Boyton: Voyages on All the Great Rivers of the World. Paul Boyton
like to exchange beds that night with his listener, so that he would be near the villain's bed. Then he would put a handful of red pepper over the mouth and nose while he snored. Was his friend willing? His friend thought the cause a just one and readily agreed to the proposed arrangement. That night the innocent youth slipped into Paul's bed and the avenger joyfully nestled in his, at the other side of the dormitory. About an hour after the boys had retired, a tall figure, with stealthy step passed in the direction of Paul's bed. There was a suppressed scuffle and the clear sound of a strap coming in contact with its victim, while a low, stern voice was heard saving: "Not a word sir; not a word. Don't dare to raise your voice above a whisper. You deserve it all and more." After a few moments Professor Justice retired with the same stealthy step. There was convulsive sobbing in Chief Paul's bed, and the other boys covered their heads with their blankets in dread of a similar visitation.
The boy who suffered that night is now a brilliant judge and well known politician. But he always believed that he had been punished for changing beds and wondered not a little that his companion had escaped similar castigation.
The boys were obliged to rise very early in the morning. The first duty of the day was to proceed to the chapel for prayers, and religious instruction. But many of the lads preferred to gather around the red hot stove of the study hall where they could tend to their devotions with more liberty and comfort than in the chilly chapel. If they were missed, a professor was sent to ascertain their whereabouts. He was generally discovered in time by the boy detailed by his companions as look out. The study hall and dormitories formed a building separate from the rest of the college. As the professor approached from the main building, the boys would leap from the low windows of the study hall into the snow. Sometimes the professor was suspicious and would reconnoiter outside the study hall; but the boys were alert and as he passed around a corner, they would get around another and so they often escaped to the chapel. One morning the president missed several of his jewels and started himself for the study hall determined to capture them. As usual, the boys clambered through the windows and escaped in different directions always keeping the hall between them and their pursuer. Stockie, Billy O'Meara and Paul adopted the old rule of sneaking away from one corner of the hall, while the president advanced around another. The pursuit was very close, for the president was sure from the tracks in the snow, that some of the boys were dodging him.
Stockie and O'Meara broke for the shelter of another building; but Paul continued to dodge around the study hall. Once the president failed to appear at the expected corner. Paul feared that he might be doubling on him and so crept cautiously on all fours back to the corner he had left to take a look around that side of the building. As he warily put his head out to take the observation it came in hard contact with that of the president, who had adopted Paul's own tactics to catch him. The situation was so ludicrous that even that austere gentlemen burst out laughing and Paul scampered away to the chapel.
A favorite resort for the boys during winter weather was a barn where they had rare sport tumbling over the great quantities of hay in the loft. A party of them were one day enjoying this pastime, when a stern voice below commanded them to "descend immediately," supplemented by the ominous and oft repeated expression, "I know you all, I, have your names." Some of the boys descended, but Paul and four companions clambered out on the roof of a wagon shed. This roof was very steep and was covered with about three feet of snow. Here they squatted down and awaited results. The professor took the names of the boys who had descended and ordered them to the study hall. This gentleman, by the way, was very successful in discovering culprits, and was known facetiously by the boys as the "blood-hound." He was sure he had not found all the truants, but he saw they were not in the loft, so he began a tour outside of the barn to ascertain how they had escaped. Slowly he walked around the wagon shed carefully scrutinizing every place in which he thought they might be concealed. The snow, loosened by the heat and extra weight of the unlucky boys, gave way and precipitated them over the head and shoulders of the astounded professor.
One form of punishment inflicted by the faculty was termed "corrence." The culprit was deprived of his meals mid compelled to remain at study in the hall while the others enjoyed their repast. This was a severe punishment to healthy, growing boys, whose appetites were whetted by the keen mountain air. On the "corrence" list one day appeared the names of William O'Meara and Paul Boyton. This was no infrequent occurrence. These boys did not seem much distressed. There was a secret understanding among the then suppressed "Wild Geese" that none of their number should suffer the pangs of hunger while provisions could be obtained from the table. The faculty must have found out this fraternal understanding, for on the day in question every boy was examined as he left the refectory and everything eatable in his possession confiscated. The day was hard for Billy and Paul. By night they were wild with hunger and vowed to make a raid on the kitchen or die. The kitchen in question was in the deep basement of the main building, lit up by small windows fully six feet above the floor. When the cooks had retired, Billy and Paul made their way to one of these windows. They pried it open. Paul persuaded his companion to crawl into the window head first, while he lowered him by holding on to his legs and feet. He instructed Billy that when the floor was reached he could with the aid of a chair easily pass out the much needed supplies. Billy began his descent. When lowered as far as Paul could reach he said:
"I can't feel the floor, pull me up."
Just then there was a deep growl heard in the kitchen and footsteps approaching from the outside. Paul did not have time or strength to haul Billy up again, so letting him go by the run, he started to his feet and disappeared in the darkness. Billy was seized by a large Newfoundland dog that held him fast until discovered by the cooks who came down to find out the cause of the noise.
The refectory of the college was a long, narrow room with a table extending its entire length. Each boy was supposed to stand in his place with folded hands and bowed head, while grace was being said by the professor at the end of the table. But such keen appetites could hardly wait for the blessing to be called. While one hand was devoutly raised, in case the professor would look down along the table, the other grasped a fork and all eyes were fixed of the dishes of meat. Smothered exclamations of "That's my piece with the fat;" "The middle piece is mine," "I like the lean," etc., passed along the line. As the amen rang out, every fork was darted into the longed for meat, as a harpoon is sent into a whale.
Not far from the college lived an irascible old gentleman who owned a rich farm and some very fine horses of which he took great pride. Paul and his chums looked on these lovely animals with envious eyes, and often wished that they could capture one and enjoy a ride. One day Stockie and Paul went to the woods at the bottom of a field that led by a gentle ascent to the farm house. They had with them a pillow-slip half full of oats. They were trying to induce a magnificent looking colt to approach them. The colt was shy, but the oats were tempting. He came near enough to taste them and submitted gently to the boy's caresses and even permitted them to lead him around by the forelock. "Now Stockie," said Paul, "I will hold him by the nose and mane. You jump from that stump and take the first ride."
With a spring, Stockie mounted the animal's back. The colt broke from Paul and dashed madly away, Stockie clinging to him like a cat. The creature never stopped in its mad career until it had reached the farm yard. With a terrific leap it unseated Stockie, who tumbled uninjured but paralyzed with fear, into a pile of manure from which he was dragged by the enraged farmer. As his friend disappeared, Paul made a beeline for the college. Soon after poor Stockie was brought in by the farmer and delivered into the hands of the president. It was some time before the victim was able to sit at his desk with any degree of comfort.
With such adventures as these, two years of college life glided by and then the parting came. Paul had progressed rapidly in his classes for his was a character that applied itself to books, as devotedly as it did to play. His best loved study was navigation, and he often surprised the gray-haired old professor by his knowledge in this quarter. His open, fearless nature had endeared him to his teachers and despite the punishments; he had learned to love the college life so his going was viewed with regret by both sides. The college was in its infancy when Paul's name was on the pupil's roll. He returned to visit it some years ago, to find it grown into one of the great educational institutions of the land. Many of our brightest and best men lovingly roll it their Alma Mater. The venerable president received him with open