The Jester of St. Timothys | Page 5

a stranger was to come
along, he'd pick Lawrence out for the teacher and you for the schoolboy.
Lawrence looks as old as you, and handles himself more grown up,
somehow."
"He's bigger," Irving sighed.
"Yes, 't ain't only that," drawled Mr. Beasley. "Though 't is a pity you're
so spindling; good thing for a teacher to be able to lay on the switch
good and hard when needed."
"I don't believe they punish with the switch at St. Timothy's."
"Then I guess they don't learn the boys much. How you going to keep
order among boys if you don't use the switch?"
At that moment the train came whistling round the bend. Irving caught
up his bag, turned and grasped Mr. Beasley's hand, then plunged into
the crowd which had closed about his brother. His aunt turned and
flung her arms about him and kissed him; his uncle gave him a
good-natured pat on the back and then stooped and said in his ear, "Irv,
if you ever get into trouble,--go to Lawrence."
There was the merry, kindly twinkle in his eyes, the quizzical,
humorous smile on his lips that made Irving know his uncle meant
always, deep in his heart, to do the right thing.
In the train he pondered for a few moments that last word of advice,
wondering if it had been sincere. It rather hurt his dignity, to be referred
to his younger brother in that way--and yet it pleased him too; he was
glad to have Lawrence appreciated.
Irving spent a day in Cambridge, helping his brother to get settled in
the rooms which he himself had occupied for four years. Then he bade
Lawrence good-by and resumed his journey to New Hampshire.
It was a pleasant September morning when he presented himself, a
sallow, thin-cheeked, narrow-shouldered, bespectacled youth, before

Dr. Davenport, the rector of St. Timothy's School. The sunlight
streamed in through the southern windows of the spacious library,
throwing mellow tints on the bindings of the books which lined the
opposite wall from floor to ceiling. It was all so bright that Irving, who
was troubled with weak eyes, advanced into it blinking; and perhaps
that was one reason for the disappointment which flitted across the
rector's face--and which Irving, who was acutely sensitive, perceived in
his blinking glance. He flushed, aware that somehow his appearance
was too timorous.
But Dr. Davenport chatted with him pleasantly, told him how highly
the college authorities had recommended him, and only laughingly
intimated a surprise at finding him so young-looking.
"I hope that teaching won't age you prematurely," he added. "You will
probably have some trying times with the boys--we all do. But it
oughtn't to be hard for you--especially as you will be thrown most of all
with the older boys. Mr. Williams, who has had charge of the Sixth
Form dormitory at the Upper School, is ill with typhoid fever and will
probably not come back this term. So I'm going to put you in charge
there. You will have under you twenty fellows, some of them the best
in the school. But just because they are in some ways pretty mature,
don't be--don't be self-effacing."
"I understand," said Irving. He sat on the edge of his chair, and
crumpled his handkerchief nervously in his hands. And all the
time--with his singular clearness of intuition--he was aware of the
doubt and distrust passing through Dr. Davenport's mind.
"Don't be afraid of the boys or show embarrassment or discomfort
before them," continued Dr. Davenport, "and on the other hand don't
try to cultivate dignity by being cold and austere. Be natural with
them--but always be the master.--There!" he broke off, smiling, for he
saw that Irving looked worried and seemed to be taking all this as
personal criticism--"that's the talk that I always give to a new master;
and now I'm done. Here is a printed copy of the rules and regulations
which I advise you to study; you must try to familiarize yourself with
our customs before any of the boys arrive. To-morrow the new boys

will come, and you will report for duty at the Gymnasium, where the
entrance examinations will be held. You will find your room in the
Sixth Form dormitory, at the Upper School. I hope you will like the life
here, Mr. Upton--and I wish you every possible success in it."
The rector gave him an encouraging handshake and another friendly
smile. But Irving departed feeling depressed and afraid. He had seen
that the rector was disappointed in him--in his appearance, in his
manner. And the rector's little speech had given him the clue. Until now,
he had not much considered how large a part of his work would be in
the management and the discipline of the boys; the