Breaking Away | Page 2

XXI.
IN WHICH ERNEST CONTINUES TO ACT AS PILOT OF THE STEAMER. 233
CHAPTER XXII.
IN WHICH ERNEST PILOTS THE ADIENO TO "THE SISTERS." 244
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN WHICH ERNEST TAKES COMMAND OF THE EXPEDITION. 255
CHAPTER XXIV.
IN WHICH ERNEST ENGAGES IN AN EXCITING STEAMBOAT RACE. 266
CHAPTER XXV.
IN WHICH ERNEST PILOTS THE ADIENO TO PARKVILLE. 277
CHAPTER XXVI
IN WHICH ERNEST FINDS A CHANGE IN THE MANAGEMENT OF THE INSTITUTE. 287

BREAKING AWAY;
OR,
THE FORTUNES OF A STUDENT.
CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH ERNEST THORNTON INTRODUCES HIMSELF.
"Ernest Thornton!" called Mr. Parasyte, the principal of the Parkville Liberal Institute, in a tone so stern and severe that it was impossible to mistake his meaning, or not to understand that a tempest was brewing. "Ernest Thornton!"
As that was my name, I replied to the summons by rising, and exhibiting my full length to all the boys assembled in the school-room--about one hundred in number.
"Ernest Thornton!" repeated Mr. Parasyte, not satisfied with the demonstration I had made.
"Sir!" I replied, in a round, full, square tone, which was intended to convince the principal that I was ready to "face the music."
"Ernest Thornton, I am informed that you have been engaged in a fight," he continued, in a tone a little less sharp than that with which he had pronounced my name; and I had the vanity to believe that the square tone in which I had uttered the single word I had been called upon to speak had produced a salutary impression upon him.
"I haven't been engaged in any fight, sir," I replied, with all the dignity becoming a boy of fourteen.
"Sir! what do you mean by denying it?" added Mr. Parasyte, working himself up into a magnificent mood, which was intended to crush me by its very majesty--but it didn't.
"I have not engaged in any fight, sir," I repeated, with as much decision as the case seemed to require.
"Didn't you strike William Poodles?" demanded he, fiercely.
"Yes, sir, I did. Bill Poodles hit me in the head, and I knocked him over in self-defence--that was all, sir."
"Don't you call that a fight, sir?" said Mr. Parasyte, knitting his brows, and looking savage enough to swallow me.
"No, sir; I do not. I couldn't stand still and let him pound me."
"You irritated him in the beginning, and provoked him to strike the blow. I hold you responsible for the fight."
"I had no intention to irritate him, and I did not wish to provoke him."
"I hold you responsible for the fight, Thornton," said the principal again.
I supposed he would, for Poodles was the son of a very wealthy and aristocratic merchant in the city of New York, while I belonged to what the principal regarded as an inferior order of society. At least twenty boys in the Parkville Liberal Institute came upon the recommendation of Poodle's father, while not a single one had been lured into these classic shades by the influence of my family--if I could be said to belong to any family. Besides, I was but a day scholar, and my uncle paid only tuition bills for me, while most of the pupils were boarders at the Institute.
I am writing of events which took place years ago, but I have seen no reason to change the opinion then formed, that Mr. Parasyte, the principal, was a "toady" of the first water; that he was a narrow-minded, partial man, in whom the principle of justice had never been developed. He was a good teacher, an excellent teacher; by which I mean only to say that he had a rare skill and tact for imparting knowledge, the mere dry bones of art, science, and philosophy. He was a capital scholar himself, and a capital teacher; but that is the most that can be said of him.
I have no hesitation in saying that his influence upon the boys was bad, as that of every narrow-minded, partial, and unjust man must be; and if I had any boys to send away to a boarding school, they should go to a good and true man, even if I knew him to be, intellectually, an inferior teacher, rather than to such a person as Mr. Parasyte. He "toadied" to the rich boys, and oppressed the poorer ones. Poodles was the most important boy in the school, and he was never punished for his faults, which were not few, nor compelled to learn his lessons, as other boys were. But I think Poodles hated the magnate of the Parkville Liberal Institute as much as any other boy.
Parkville is situated on Lake Adieno, a beautiful sheet of water, twenty miles in length, in the very heart of the State of New York. The town was a thriving place of four thousand inhabitants, at which a steamboat stopped twice every day in her trip around the lake. The academy was located at the western verge of the