I HARD TIMES FOR JOEL
“Come on, Pepper.” One of the boys rushed down the dormitory hall, giving a bang on Joel's door as he passed.
“All right,” said Joel a bit crossly, “I'm coming.”
“Last bell,” came back on the wind.
Joel threw his tennis racket on the bed, and scowled1. Just then a flaxen head peeped in, and two big eyes stared at him.
“Ugh!”—Joel took one look—“off with you, Jenkins.” Jenkins withdrew at once.
Joel jumped up and slammed the door hard, whirled around in vexation, sprang over and thrust the tennis racket under the bed, seized a dog-eared book, and plunged2 off, taking the precaution, despite his hurry, to shut the door fast behind him.
Jenkins stole out of his room three doors10 beyond, and as the hall was almost deserted3 about this hour, so many boys being in recitation, he had nothing to do but tiptoe down to Joel's room and go softly in.
“Hullo!” A voice behind made him skip.
“Oh, Berry,”—it was a tone of relief,—“it's you.”
“Um,” said Berry, “what's up now, Jenk?” He tossed back his head, while a smile of delight ran all over his face.
“Hush4—come here.” Jenk had him now within Joel's room and the door shut. “We'll have fun with the beggar now.”
“Who—Dave?”
“Dave? No. Who wants to haul him over?” cried Jenk in scorn. “You are a flat, Berry, if you think that.”
“Well, you are a flat, if you think to tackle Joe,” declared Berry with the air and tone of one who knows. “Better let him alone, after what you got last term.”
“Well, I ain't going to let him alone,” declared Jenk angrily, and flushing all up to his shock of light hair; “and I gave him quite as good as he gave me, I'd have you know, Tom Beresford.”
“Hoh, hoh!” Tom gave a howl of derision,11 and slapped his knee in pure delight. “Tell that to the marines, sonny,” he said.
“Hush—old Fox will hear you. Be still, can't you?”—twitching his jacket—“and stop your noise.”
“I can't help it; you say such very funny things,” said Beresford, wiping his eyes.
“Well, anyway, I'm going to pay him up this term,” declared Jenkins decidedly. He was rushing around the small room; the corners devoted5 to David being neatness itself, which couldn't truthfully be said of Joel's quarters. “I'm after his new tennis racket. Where in thunder is it?” tossing up the motley array of balls, dumb-bells, and such treasures, that showed on their surface they belonged to no one but Joel.
“Great Scott!” Tom cried with sudden interest, and coming out of his amusement. “You won't find it.”
“Saw him looking at it just now, before he went to class,” cried Jenkins, plunging6 around the room. “Where is the thing?” he fumed7.
Berry gave a few swift, bird-like glances around the room, then darted8 over to the end of one of the small beds, leaned down, and picked out from underneath9 the article in question.12
“Oh! give it to me,” cried Jenk, flying at him, and possessing himself of the treasure; “it's mine; I told you of it.”
“Isn't it a beauty!” declared Berry, his eyes very big and longing10.
“Ha, ha—ain't it? Well, Joe won't see this in one spell.”
Jenkins gave it a swing over his head, then batted his knee with it.
“What are you going to do, Jenk?” demanded Berry, presently, when he could get his mind off from the racket itself.
“Do? Ha, ha! Who says I can't pay the beggar back?” grinned Jenk, hopping11 all over the room, and knocking into things generally.
“Hush—hush,” warned Berry, plunging after him; “here's old Fox,” which brought both boys up breathless in the middle of the floor.
“She's gone by”—a long breath of relief; “and there she goes down the stairs,” finished Berry.
“Sure?” Not daring to breathe, but clutching the racket tightly, and with one eye on Berry, Jenk cried again in a loud whisper, “Sure, Berry?”
“As if any one could mistake the flap of13 those slipper-heels on the stairs!” said Berry scornfully.
“Well, look out of the window,” suggested Jenk suddenly. “She'll go across the yard, maybe.”
So Berry dashed to the window, and gave one look. “There she sails with a bottle in her hand, going over to South” (the other dormitory across the yard). “Most likely Jones has the colic again. Good! Now that disposes finely of old Fox,” which brought him back to the subject in hand, the disposal of Joel's racket.
“Give me that,” he said, hurrying over to Jenkins.
“No, you don't,” said that individual; “and I must be lively before old Fox gets back.” With that, he rushed out of the room.
“If you don't give me that racket, I'll tell on you,” cried Beresford in a passion, flying after him.
“Hush!” Jenk turned on him suddenly, and gripped him fast. “See here,” he cried in a suppressed tone, and curbing12 his anger as best he could, “you don't want Joe to go into that match, this afternoon, with this racket.” He shook it with eager, angry fingers.14
“No,” said Berry without stopping to think, “I don't.”
“Well, then, you better keep still, and hold your tongue,” advised Jenk angrily.
“Well, what are you going to do with it?”
“None of your——” what, he didn't say, for just then a boy flew out of his room, to tear down the long hall. He had his back to them, and there was no time to skip back into Jenkins' own room, for the two had already passed it. One wild second, and Jenkins thrust the racket into the depths of the housemaid's closet close at hand, under some cleaning-cloths on a shelf. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Hullo!” The boy who was rushing along, suddenly turned, to see him whistling.
“Oh Jenk, is that you? See here, where's your Cæsar?”
“Don't know—gone up the spout,” said Jenkins carelessly, and keeping well in front of Beresford.
“Well, who has one? You haven't, Berry?” He turned to Tom anxiously.
“Not on your life he hasn't,” Jenk answered for him.
“Botheration!” ejaculated the boy. “I've15 fifty lines to do, else I'm shut in from the game. And Simmons has run off with my book.”
“Try Joe Pepper's room; he's in math recitation,” said Jenk suddenly. “He has one, Toppy.”
“You're a brick.” Toppy flew down the hall, and bolted into Joel's room.
“Holy Moses, what luck! He'll prowl for an hour over Joe's duds. Come on.” Jenk had his head in the cupboard, and his fingers almost on the racket, when Toppy's voice rang dismally13 down the hall: “Joe must have taken it.”
Jenk pulled his fingers out, and had the door fast, and was quite turned away from the dangerous locality. “Well, I don't know what you'll do, Toppy,” he said, controlling his dismay enough to speak. “Run down and skin through the fellows' rooms on first floor. Oh, good gracious!” he groaned14, “it's all up with getting it now,” as a swarm15 of boys came tumbling over the stairs.
So he mixed with them, laughing and talking, and Berry melted off somewhere. And no one had time to think a syllable16 of anything but the great game of tennis to be called at two o'clock, between the two divisions of Dr. Marks' boys.16 Some of the team of the St. Andrew's School, a well-known set of fellows at this sport and terribly hard to beat, were going to be visitors. So there was unusual excitement.
“What's up, Pepper?” A howl that rose above every other sort of din17 that was then in progress, came from Joel's room.
“He's been in here!” Joel plunged out of the doorway18, tossing his black, curly locks, that were always his bane, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Say, where's Jenk? He's been in my room,” he cried, doubling up his small fists.
“What is it?” cried Jenkins, making as if just coming up the stairs. “What's all the row about?”
“You've been in my room,” shouted Joel in a loud, insistent19 voice, “and taken my——” The rest was lost in a babel of voices.
“What? What's gone, Joe?” They all crowded into the small space, and swarmed20 all over the room.
“My racket,” yelled Joel wrathfully. “Jenk has got it; he better give it up. Quick now.” He pushed up the sleeves of his tennis shirt, and squared off, glaring at them all, but making the best of his way over toward Jenk.17
That individual, when he saw him coming, thought it better to get behind some intervening boys. Everybody huddled21 against everybody else, and it was impossible to get at the truth.
“See here now, Mother Fox will be after us all if you don't hush up,” called one boy. “I guess she's coming,” which had the desired effect. All the voices died down except Joel's.
“I don't care,” said Joel wrathfully. “I wish she would come. Jenk has got my racket. He saw me with it before I ran to math; and now it's gone.” All eyes turned to Jenkins.
“Is that so?” A half-dozen hands pushed him into the centre of the group. “Then you've got to give him fits, Pepper.”
“I'm going to,” announced Joel, pushing up his sleeves higher yet, “until he tells where it is. Come on, Jenk.” He tossed his head like a young lion, and squared off.
“I haven't your old racket,” declared Jenk, a white line beginning to come around his mouth. It wasn't pleasant to see his reckoning quite so near.
“Then you know where it is,” declared Joel.
“And give it to the beggar,” cried several of the boys, with whom Jenkins was by no means a favorite.18
“Give it to him worse than you did last term, Joe,” called some one on the edge of the circle closing around the two.
“I'm going to,” nodded Joel, every nerve in his body tingling22 to begin. “Come on, Jenk, if you won't tell where you've put my racket.”
“He's afraid,” said the boy who had advised the more severe pommelling, “old 'fraid-cat!”
Jenkins, his knees knocking together miserably23, but with a wild rage in his heart at these words, struck out blindly to meet Joel's sturdy little fists, and to find his Waterloo.
In the midst of the din and confusion that this encounter produced, steps that could never by any possibility be mistaken for those of a schoolboy struck upon their ears.
The circle of spectators flew wide, and before Joel and Jenkins realized what was coming, a good two dozen hands were laid on their collars, and they were dragged apart, and hauled into separate rooms, the rest of the boys scattering24 successfully. Tom Beresford fled with the rest, and the long hall was cleared.
“Boys!” the voice of the matron, Mrs. Fox, rang down the deserted, long hall, as she looked up from the stairway. “Humph! they are quiet19 enough now.” She gave a restful sigh, and went down again. Jones and his colic were just so much extra on a terribly busy day.
“What did you fellows touch me for?” roared Joel, lifting a bloody25 nose. In his own room, Jenkins was in that state that recognizes any interruption as a blessing26.
“Old Fox would have caught you, if we hadn't rushed you both,” cried the boys.
Tom Beresford worked his way up to say close to Joel's ear, “Don't speak, get into your room; I'll tell you where it is,” then melted off to the outer circle of boys.
Joel looked up, gave a little nod, then broke away from the boys, and dashed to Jenkins' door.
“See here,”—he flung the words out,—“you've got to finish sometime when Mrs. Fox isn't round.”
Jenkins, who was under the impression that he had had quite enough, was made to say, “All right;” something in the boys' faces making it seem imperative27 that he should do so.
Quite pleased, Joel withdrew as suddenly as he had come.
Meanwhile, up the stairs, two at a time, came Davie, singing at the memory of the special commendation20 given by his instructor28 in the recitation just over; and secretly David's heart bounded with a wild hope of taking home a prize in classics for Mamsie!
“Everything's just beautiful this term!” he hummed to himself. And then, in a breathing space he was in his room, and there, well drawn29 behind the door, was a boy with big eyes. “Hush” he warned.
“What's the matter?” asked David in astonishment30, “and where's Joel?”
“Oh, don't speak his name; he's in disgrace. Oh, it's perfectly31 awful!” The boy huddled up in a heap, and tried to shut the door.
“Who?” cried David, not believing his ears.
“Joel—oh dear! it's perfectly awful!”
“Stop saying it's perfectly awful, Bates, and tell me what's the matter.” Davie felt faintish, and sat down on the shoe-box.
Bates shut the door with a clap, and then came to stand over him, letting the whole information out with a rush.
“He's pitched into Jenk—and they've had a fight—and they're all blood—and the old Fox almost got 'em both.” Then he shut his mouth suddenly, the whole being told.21
Davie put both hands to his head. For a minute everything turned dark around him. Then he thought of Mamsie. “Oh dear me!” he said, coming to.
“How I wish he'd had it all out with that beggar!” exploded Bates longingly32.
David didn't say anything, being just then without words. At this instant Joel rushed in with his bloody nose, and a torn sleeve where Jenk in his desperation had gripped it fast.
“Oh Joel!” screamed Davie at sight of him, and springing from his shoe-box. “Are you hurt? Oh Joey!”
“Phoo! that's nothing,” said Joel, running over to the wash-basin, and plunging his head in, to come up bright and smiling. “See, Dave, I'm all right,” he announced, his black eyes shining. “But he's a mean beggar to steal my new racket,” he concluded angrily.
“To steal your new racket that Grandpapa sent you!” echoed David. “Oh dear me! who has taken it? Oh Joel!”
“That beggar Jenkins,” exploded Joel. “But I'm to know where it is.” Just then the door opened cautiously, enough to admit a head. “Don't speak, Pepper, but come.”22
Joel flung down the towel, and pranced33 to the door.
“No one else,” said the boy to whom the head belonged.
“Not me?” asked David longingly. “Can't I come?”
“No—no one but Joe.” Joel rushed over the sill tumultuously, deserting David and the Bates boy.
“Don't speak a single word,” said the boy out in the hall, putting his mouth close to Joel's ear, “but move lively.”
No need to tell him so. In a minute they were both before the housemaid's closet.
“Feel under,” whispered the boy, with a sharp eye down the length of the hall.
Joel's brown hands pawed among the cleaning-cloths and brushes, bringing up in a trice the racket, Grandpapa's gift, to flourish it high.
“Take care; keep it down,” said the boy in a hurried whisper.
“Oh, oh!” cried Joel, hanging to it in a transport.
“Um,” the boy nodded. “Hush, be still. Now skip for your room.”
“Beresford,” said Joel, his black eyes shining23 as he paused a breathing space before rushing back to Davie, the new racket gripped fast, “if I don't pay Jenk for this!”
“Do.” Tom grinned all over his face in great delight; “you'll be a public benefactor,” and he softly beat his hands together.
收听单词发音 |
1
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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4
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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curbing
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| n.边石，边石的材料v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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