Bolax Goes to College.

For several winters Mr. Allen had suffered from severe grippe colds, each year his system seemed less able to resist the attacks, so Dr. Carroll prescribed a winter in Florida, saying that it was an absolute necessity both for his health and as a complete rest from business, to which he had been a slave.

Mrs. Allen and the whole family held a consultation as to what should be done with Bolax while they were in Florida.

"I want to board at St. Thomas', Papa; the boys have such fun, I know I'd have a good time there; I was the youngest day scholar last year and all the seniors liked me."

"My dear child," said his father, "if fun be all your aim in boarding at a college, you can have all you want of that at home at less cost. I fear there is too much of your 'fun' going on in our colleges and very little solid education."

"That's just what I've been thinking," observed Mrs. Allen, "and I've made up my mind to send Bolax to my uncle, who is President of the College at L'Islet, Canada; that is, my dear, if you don't object."

"I do most emphatically object to having my son go so far from home."

"But," argued Mrs. Allen, "the boy will be better cared for under the patronage of a relative than he would be in the most expensive of our Colleges here. My uncle has frequently written to me, telling of the excellent methods and strict discipline of his school, which he has placed under the care of Christian Brothers."

As they were speaking, Dr. Carroll and Lucy came into the room.

"What would you advise about our boy, Doctor?" asked Mr. Allen.

"On what subject?" said the Doctor.

"We are thinking of placing Bolax at college, and his mother wants to send him to her uncle in Canada."

"Canada is very far away," objected Aunt Lucy, "why not let him remain with us, as we are to live in your house during your absence."

"Now, Lucy, you ought to think it high time that a boy nearly thirteen years of age should be above coddling," remarked the Doctor, "that is what you and Hetty have done all his life and it is time to stop it. The boy is not working up to his ability here. Composition and music are the only branches in which he receives a high average, these require little or no exertion on his part, but in all other studies his average is low. I really feel a change would benefit him, we might make the trial, should it prove unsatisfactory, it will be easy to take him home again."

After debating for and against the Canadian project, Mr. Allen was at last persuaded to give his consent, and preparations were made for Bo's trip to Canada. Boy-like he was elated at the idea of traveling, especially when he heard he was to undertake the journey alone. When he told his companions about it, they opened their eyes in amazement, and some of their mothers wondered how such a harum-scarum could be trusted so far on the trains.

"Mamma, can't I give a farewell spread for my chums?" "Yes, dear; have them all here on Friday evening. I will get up a nice supper, and Uncle Carroll will show his magic lantern with moving pictures." "Oh, bully for you Ma, dear." "Bully! What did I say about slang, my child?" "Oh, Ma, dear, all the fellows at St. Thomas' use those words, you've got to have something to say when you are pleased, or mad, or surprised—one dear old priest up there says 'Thunder and mud!' when a boy gives a particularly stupid answer at a recitation."

"Oh, well, my son, that is just a funny expression. I don't mind your adopting it, since as you say, you must have some 'expressions.'"

The last evening at home had come. Bo's trunk was packed and the family had assembled in the dining room to have a nice old-fashioned supper. Their boy was going away, but the grand harmony of the evening was not destroyed. Uncle Carroll sang merry songs, Aunt Lucy played on her guitar, Bolax gave his best pieces on the piano, in fact, they had a regular concert.

Somehow, Bolax felt that he had never loved his parents as he did now; he thought his mother's face so matronly, yet so gentle, was the sweetest face he ever saw. He bid "good-night" quite bravely, but found it hard to suppress his sobs as he clung to his mother's neck, for our light-hearted boy was tender and loving as a girl.

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Early next morning the house was astir. Hetty packed a basket of lunch filled with everything she knew the boy liked. Farewells were spoken, the carriage drove up and Mr. Allen accompanied his son to New York, where he placed him on the train bound for Quebec.

L'islet, P. Q., Canada, September 15th.

My Dear Papa: I hope you are well, and that business will soon steer towards prosperity. When you left me in the car, I had to wait about three minutes, then I felt the train start.

As it gained speed, we darted through about fifty little tunnels, and between stone walls.

When we got into Connecticut, we passed a series of little bays, which I afterwards found out were the inlets of the sound. We made our first stop at Meriden, where a crowd of New England girls got on the train; they wore neat golf suits and carried golf sticks. I thought how nice Cousin Madge would look in such clothes. None of them were pretty, but all were as neat as new pins. All along the railroad was to be seen "ads" of pills, bicycles, soap and sarsaparilla.

As we pulled into Hartford, we passed the Pope Manufacturing Company, but it does not resemble the fine pictures they have in their "ads."

I only got out of the seat you put me into once, and that was to get a drink. When I got into Springfield, that baggage man was nowhere to be found, neither was the conductor, so I gave the brakeman the cigars you left for them.

The brakeman then took me to the conductor of the Pullman car; this fellow looked the image of me, only taller, and he greeted me heartily when he found that I was to be in his charge.

I bought sandwiches here, and it's lucky I did, as the roast chicken Mamma put up for me, only did for one meal; it was so good, I couldn't stop eating once I began it.

When I got on the train, it was made up of one baggage, two day and three sleeping coaches, but when I awoke in the morning, or really in the night, to my surprise I found that we had changed from the middle to the end of the train. Now, for the incidents of the night. About 9.30 P. M. I got Billy, the porter, to make up my berth and I went to sleep after a hard tussle with the rough sheets and blanket. At one o'clock, I was dreaming of home and of mother, as the song says, when all of a sudden I heard our village fire whistle blow—I jumped out of bed, and then found to my disappointment that I was five hundred miles from home in a Pullman sleeper that had bumped into something, and every one was making a racket enough to wake the dead. We got another engine after twenty minutes solo, and continued our journey through the high mountains of Vermont. I dozed again and when I awoke, daylight was just peeping out from the east; the frost was on every blade of grass and on every rail and tie; the trees seemed to draw the steam from the engine with their leaves, and then it became a thin veil of frost; thus while standing on the back platform at 4.50 A. M., I could see our route for miles and miles, winding and meandering through the forests of the Pine Tree State.

We passed beautiful lakes by the half dozen, flew over high trestle bridges, that look as if scarcely able to bear the weight of the train. I saw cow-protectors at several crossings, these when the cow tries to cross the rails, split its hoof and she has to "back."

When we reached Sherbrook, I amused myself standing on the back platform, pretending I was "Bryan" and posing for the admiration of a crowd of boys who were at the station. When we were starting again, there was a bump and a crash; I looked out, but all I could see was a smashed tool box and tools scattered in every direction.

The porter was in the baggage car when they opened trunks, he told the Inspector I was going to school and to let my trunks pass, which he did.

As we neared the end of our journey, I was the only passenger in the Pullman car, so the conductor and the brakeman took me into a little station to get breakfast. My, but it was good! It was composed of tender beefsteak, fine coffee, the kind only French people know how to make, potatoes, bread and butter. I handed the waiter fifty cents, which was the price, and cheap at that, to my surprise, he gave me back a quarter. It appears the little French conductor told the proprietor I was his brother, then he shook hands with me, and if I hadn't laughed, he might have believed the conductor and given me back the other quarter.

When the train started again, the Frenchman, who had charge of me, called me "old boy" (he didn't mean the devil, of course), and he asked me if I wanted to ride on the engine, I accepted his offer and rode a hundred miles on it.

I arrived safely at Levis (as my telegram stated) after passing under several long snow sheds.

The train pulled up slowly and I had a splendid view of the grand old fort of Quebec. It reminds me of the pictures I see of the rock of Gibraltar, only that it has a wall with holes in it for cannon. I passed out into snow sheds again, which brought me to L'Islet, where a Christian Brother met me with a team; he got my trunk, which had faithfully followed me all the way. We then started for the College, which is about two miles from the station.

My studies so far are English, Latin, French, Commercial Arithmetic, "The Duties of a Christian Towards God." This is a book used as a reader. Our pleasures at this season are football (played with feet only), baseball, tennis, and those games I mentioned in my letter to Mamma.

I have had only one fight, and I was brave, as you told me to be, so I licked the fellow. I have made ten good friends and two enemies, but the enemies are big "Nits," they can hit hard, but don't know how to "guard."

I am glad Dr. Carroll gave me boxing lessons last winter; they will be useful to me now.

I go to Mass every morning. Tell this to Mamma. Give my love to the following friends:

Professor Rinaldi, Mrs. Carpenter and family, especially Mr. Charlie and Sam; Hetty and Pat, all the seven boys who were my chums—Elmer Mullen, and the Priests at St. Thomas' College, Colonel O'Brian, Darling Mamma, Aunt Lucy, Uncles Dick and Carroll, and all the friends I have left in dear old Midville.

Excuse writing; I have spent two hours on this letter and I'm dead tired of it.

Your loving son,

Bolax Allen.

Answer to Bolax's first letter:

September.

My Dear Son: Your letter is most interesting, those of our friends who do not know that composition is your forte, were inclined to believe it was the production of your teachers. Mr. Thornton published it in his journal, of which I send you a copy. He predicts you will be an editor some day. I tell you this to encourage you; praise is due to him who honestly deserves it.

But, dear, we know composition requires no effort on your part. Now try to excel in what does require effort, your chirography and arithmetic, for instance. There is an old Latin proverb which says, "Patient industry is worth more than lazy talent," meaning that your talent and ability will amount to nothing if you do not work.

Mamma and Aunt Lucy are sending such long letters, so you won't mind if mine is short. God bless you, my dear son.

Your affectionate,

Father.

L'Islet, P. Q., September.

Dearly Beloved Home Folks: I have passed the examination and have not been placed in the highest class. That old arithmetic is the cause. Then, I know almost nothing about Latin or French, but I mean to work in earnest.

Mamma, I did not hear you say your uncle was a priest. He has been pastor of the church for thirty years. His hair is white as snow and he always wears a long black robe belted at the waist, with large beads at his side. When walking out, his head is covered with a wide-brimmed hat. I think he looks like the priest in Longfellow's Evangeline. He is very kind to me and says I look exactly as you did when a child.

There are two funerals here each month; every window in the Church is draped in black on these occasions, and all the ornaments on the altar covered with mourning. But, Ma, dear! you should hear the "Chanteurs" that sing at the Mass for the dead. They are four old men with cracked voices. The first time I heard them, it was so awful that I really thought their shouting and squeaking was done purposely to scare away the devil from the corpse.

On Sundays the College boys sing in the choir; if I only could read Latin, I could serve Mass and sing too. Latin is used more than French in saying prayers.

The College grounds slope down to the St. Lawrence, the river is very wide and beautiful, islands dot its surface. We have three large rowboats and a sailing yacht. I am well pleased with everything so far, except the "grub." I miss Hetty's cooking, but I don't starve and am just as fat as ever.

With all the love of my heart and soul, I am,

Forever yours,

Bolax Allen.

Fun in the Dormitories.

George Fulton, an "American boy," as they designated those who had come from the "States," was always talking of the fun he had when at boarding school near home. One day he called together six friends whom he could trust: "Say you French fellows; you're too tame," said George. "You ought to see the fun we had in the dormitories at the school I went to in the 'States.' Tonight the Brothers hold a special council, they will meet in the Chapel, which being on the other side of the Campus, will prevent their hearing us if we have a little 'Shindig' in our dormitory." "What's a 'Shindig,'" asked Leonce de Vean. "Something you knock de shins?" "Ha, ha, you little French Crapeaud. I forgot you kids don't understand English slang, but you'll see what it is tonight."

As he was entering the Study Hall, Bolax saw Harrison and laughingly told him there was to be an awful "lark" in the dormitory. "We're going to have no end of fun." "Are you?" said Harrison. "Well if it gets amusing, come to my room and tell me, and I'll go down and look on."

It was Brother Isadore's night on duty. He walked slowly up and down the range of the dormitories until every boy seemed ready to get into bed, then he put out all the candles (there was no gas to be had and the Brothers would not trust coal-oil lamps to boys). So long as they were under surveillance, the boys observed the utmost quiet and decorum. All continued in order until Brother Isadore passed out through the lavatory, one of the boys following him as a scout, had seen the last glimmer of his hand-lamp disappear around the corner at the foot of the staircase, and heard the library door close behind him.

After that, as Brother Director was obliged to preside at the Council, the boys knew they were safe from disturbance, and the occupants of the large dormitory were the first to stir.

"Now for some fun," said George, starting up, and by the way of initiative, pitching his pillow at Bolax's head.

"I'll pay you for that when I'm ready," said Bo, laughing, "but let us light a few candles first; however, it's bright moonlight, maybe we had better not light up, some one outside might notice our illumination."

Several fellows from the dormitory came on the scene with their sconces lit, these they placed so as not to show through the windows. Then the boys began all sorts of amusements, some in their night shirts, others with their trousers slipped on. Leapfrog was the prevalent game for the time, but at last Henry de la Tour suggested theatricals, and they were agreed on.

"But we're making a regular knock-me-down shindig," said Fulton, "somebody must keep guard."

"Oh, old Brother Isadore is safe enough in the Chapel; no fear of disturbing him if we were dancing Jim Crow," answered Bolax.

However it was considered safest to put some one at the top of the stairs in case of an unexpected diversion in that direction, and little Leonce consented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory door open and stand at the top of the staircase, then he commanded for a great distance the only avenue in which danger was expected.

If any Brother's lamp appeared in the hall, the boys had full three minutes' warning and a single loudly whispered "cache-cache" would cause them to "lay low," so that by the time of their adversary's arrival they would, of course, be all fast asleep in bed, some snoring in an alarming manner.

So at the top of the stairs stood little Leonce shoeless and shivering in his night shirt, but keenly entering into the fun.

Meanwhile the rest were getting up a representation of the "Grande Duchesse" pushing the beds together for a stage and dressing up the actors in the most fantastic apparel. Fulton took the part of the Grande Duchess and sang "Voici le sabre de mon pÈre, Tu vas le mettre a ton cotÉ," etc. All joined in the chorus as loud as they dared.

Bolax made a famous "General Boome," because he was so stout; his costume consisted of his night shirt, with a red woolen scarf around his waist; on his head was a crimson silk handkerchief, which was very stiff and stood up in a point. His cheeks were covered with corked whiskers and mustaches. He sang:

while he strutted up and down the aisle with a dust brush for a sword.

"I say," said Leonce, "it is very cold standin' here, won't some one relieve guard?" After waiting a few minutes longer, he felt sure there was no danger, and therefore ran up to Harrison's room.

"What's up," asked Harrison. "Oh, we've been having leap-frog and 'La Grande Duchesse.' I'm keeping 'guard,' but it's so cold, I thought I'd run up to your study."

"Little traitor, we'll shoot you for a deserting sentinel."

"There's no danger of being caught; besides, the fellows are making less row now."

"Well, let us go down. I want to see the fun, too."

Fulton, as Grande Duchesse, was draped artistically in a sheet, which trailed behind him, while a blue scarf decked his fair head. Placing himself in an attitude of intensely affected melodrama he was singing:

Suddenly his foot caught in his long trail and landed him on his back. This scene tickled the audience immensely, and was greeted with shouts of laughter. "Cache-cache!" shouted Leonce and took a flying leap into his bed.

Instantly there was a bolt in different directions; the candles dashed out, the beds pushed aside, and the dormitories at once plunged in profound silence, only broken by heavy breathing of the sleepers, when in strode Brother Director.

He stood for a moment to survey the scene. Every boy was in bed, but the extraordinary way in which the bed clothes were huddled about, told an unmistakable tale.

As the Brother for a moment crossed over to the lavatory, he heard some one move. "Who's there?" said he. It was Harrison trying to sneak back to his room; seeing he was caught, he came before his angry master. "Harrison, is it? I am not surprised, go to your room, I will settle with you tomorrow."

Passing again into the large dormitory, Brother heard nothing but the deep snores of Fulton, and instantly fixed on him as the chief culprit. "Fulton."

No reply, but steady music from that Worthy's bed. "Fulton!" he called still louder and more sternly; "you sleep soundly, sir, too soundly, get up directly," and he laid his hand on the boy's arm.

"Allez-vous en, ce n'est pas encore temps de se lever." [Get away from here, it's not time to get up.]

"You speak very good French when you're asleep, but the shamming will only increase your punishment." The wiley Fulton stretched himself lazily, gave a great yawn, and then awoke with such an admirably feigned start at seeing Brother Director, that Bolax who had been peeping from over the bed clothes, burst into an irresistible explosion of laughter. The Brother swung round on his heel. "What! Allen! get out of bed, sir, this instant." Bolax forgetful of his disguise sheepishly obeyed, but when he stood on the floor, he looked so odd in his crimson girdle and corked cheeks, with the light of Brother's lamp shining on him, that the scene became overpoweringly ludicrous to Fulton, who now in his turn was convulsed with a storm of laughter faintly echoed from other beds.

"TrÈs bien mes amis," (very well, my friends!) was Brother Director's sarcastic remark, for he was now thoroughly angry, "you will hear from me tomorrow." He then walked away with a heavy step.

Next morning, Mass was no sooner over than the boys were summoned to the Study Hall. Brother Director began with: "I have a few words to say to you.

"I find there was the utmost disorder in the dormitories last night. Candles were lighted at forbidden hours, and the noise was so great that it was heard through the whole building. I am grieved to see you cannot be left alone even for a few hours without taking advantage of my absence, and that some of the older boys, far from using their influence to prevent those infractions of discipline, seem inclined to join in them themselves, forgetting their position in school and abetting the follies of children. You, Mr. Harrison, shall be deprived of a privilege which you have abused, as a punishment for your conduct last night, you will give up your private study until the end of the term.

"Fulton as the ringleader ought to be caned, but as this is his first year, I will give him instead three days in the Cachot.

"Allen and the other little fellows who were led by him, shall be deprived of recreation for one week. Now, boys, just let me ask you if you have not enough legitimate pleasures without resorting to such fooleries as that of last night?

"In our schools the Brothers make it a practice to enter into all amusements with our pupils. This summer Fulton and the other American boys saw how we went rowing with you, we join in your football games, we even play marbles with the little fellows, but how would a Christian Brother look dressed up as Master Allen was last night?" Here there was a perceptible smile on Brother Director's face, which gave license for a general titter from those who had seen the costume of "General Boome." "Now we, as Christian Brothers, are bound to teach all who come under our jurisdiction to be Christian gentlemen, and we use our best endeavors to that end.

"We want all to be happy with us, no boy must remain in this College who considers he is treated unjustly or harshly, but we will not allow our rules to be broken or our authority set aside on any consideration.

"Now you may all go to breakfast."

After breakfast HonorÉ Bernier and several of the French boys congratulated the "Americans" on getting off with so slight a punishment. You may thank your stars it is Brother Benedict, who is Director, he is so lenient; if you had been here in Brother John's time you would all have gotten a dose of Extract of Rattan.

October 31st.

Dear Mother: Our whole dormitory got into a scrape for "cutting up shines" when we should have been asleep. I did not realize how foolish it was to take fun out of time, until Monsieur Le CurÉ gave me advice on the matter.

I promised him I would keep all the rules in the future and try for the medal. I have started in, and although I find it hard work to keep from mischief, I manage to save my fun for recreation hour.

I have joined the Society of St. Aloysius; that means great watchfulness over myself to keep from offending God in the least manner.

Darling Mother, I hope you will have reason some day to be proud of your loving son,

B. Allen.