Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic nameby which he challenged the world's respect as a man of learning anddistinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academystudent, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions usedto address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no pedagogue couldretain the respect of his pupils who might readily be metamorphosed intoOld Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, he dropped the plebeianname, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, A. M.
I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. Smithobtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the questionhimself, saying that it was given him by a Western university causahonoris.
It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wearthe title, since no one thought it worth while to make the necessaryexamination into its genuineness. Nor, again, had anyone been able todiscover at what college the distinguished Socrates had studied. Intruth, he had never even entered college, but he had offered himself asa candidate for admission to a college in Ohio, and been rejected. Thisdid not, however, prevent his getting up a school, and advertising toinstruct others in the branches of learning of which his own knowledgewas so incomplete.
He was able to hide his own deficiencies, having generally in his employsome college graduate, whose poverty compelled him to accept the scantywages which Socrates doled out to him. These young men were generallypoor scholars in more than one sense of the word, as Mr. Smith did notcare to pay the high salary demanded by a first-class scholar. Mr. Smithwas shrewd enough not to attempt to instruct the classes in advancedclassics or mathematics, as he did not care to have his deficienciesunderstood by his pupils.
It pleased him best to sit in state and rule the school, administeringreproofs and castigations where he thought fit, and, best of all, tomanage the finances. Though his price was less than that of many otherschools, his profits were liberal, as he kept down expenses. His tablewas exceedingly frugal, as his boarding pupils could have testified, andthe salaries he paid to under teachers were pitifully small.
So it was that, year by year, Socrates Smith, A. M., found himselfgrowing richer, while his teachers grew more shabby, and his pupilsrarely became fat.
Allan Roscoe took a carriage from the depot to the school.
Arrived at the gate, he descended, and Hector followed him.
The school building was a long, rambling, irregular structure, of noknown order of architecture, bearing some resemblance to a factory. Theornament of architecture Mr. Smith did not regard. He was strictly of autilitarian cast of mind. So long as the institute, as he often calledit, afforded room for the school and scholars he did not understand whatmore was wanted.
"Is Mr. Smith at leisure?" Mr. Roscoe asked of a bare-arm servant girlwho answered the bell.
"I guess he's in his office," was the reply.
"Take him this card," said Mr. Roscoe. The girl inspected the card withsome curiosity, and carried it to the eminent principal. When SocratesSmith read upon the card the name
ALLAN ROSCOE,
and, penciled in the corner, "with a pupil," he said, briskly:
"Bring the gentleman in at once, Bridget."
As Mr. Roscoe entered, Mr. Smith beamed upon him genially. It was thushe always received those who brought to him new scholars. As he alwaysasked half a term's tuition and board in advance, every such visitorrepresented to him so much ready cash, and for ready cash Socrates had aweakness.
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Roscoe," said the learned principal,advancing to meet his visitor. "And this is the young lad. Dear me! heis very well grown, and looks like he was fond of his books."
This was not exactly the way in which a learned scholar might beexpected to talk; but Mr. Smith's speech was not always elegant, or evengrammatically correct.
"I believe he is reasonably fond of study," said Mr. Roscoe. "Hector,this is your future instructor, Prof. Socrates Smith."
At the name of professor, which he much affected, Socrates Smith lookedpositively benignant.
"My young friend," he said, "we will try to make you happy. SmithInstitute is a regular beehive, full of busy workers, who are preparingthemselves for the duties and responsibilities of life. I aim to be afather to my pupils, and Mrs. Smith is a mother to them. I am truly gladto receive you into my happy family."
Hector scanned attentively the face of his new teacher. He was notaltogether prepossessed in his favor. That the reader may judge whetherhe had reason to be, let me describe Mr. Smith.
He was a trifle over six feet in height, with yellowish, sandy hair,high cheek bones, a rough and mottled skin, a high but narrow forehead,a pair of eyes somewhat like those of a ferret, long, ungainly limbs,and a shambling walk. A coat of rusty black, with very long tails,magnified his apparent height, and nothing that he wore seemed made forhim.
Perhaps, as the first Socrates was said to have been the homeliest ofall the Athenians, it was fitting that the man who assumed his nameshould also have the slightest possible claim to beauty.
"He may be a learned man," thought Hector, "but he is certainly plainenough. It is well that he has something to compensate for his looks."
"I hope you are glad to come here, my boy," said Socrates, affably. "Isincerely trust that you will be contented at the institute."
"I hope so, too," said Hector, but he evidently spoke doubtfully.
"I should like a little conversation with you, Professor Smith," saidAllan Roscoe. "I don't know that it is necessary to keep Hector hereduring our interview."
Socrates took the hint.
He rang a hand bell, and a lank boy, of fifteen, appeared.
"Wilkius," said Mr. Smith, "this is a new scholar, Hector Roscoe. Takehim to the playground, and introduce him to Mr. Crabb."
"All right, sir. Come along."
This last was addressed to Hector, who went out with the new boy.
"I thought it best to speak with you briefly about Hector, ProfessorSmith," commenced Allan Roscoe.
"Very appropriate and gratifying, Mr. Roscoe. I can assure you he willbe happy here."
"I dare say," returned Mr. Roscoe, carelessly. "I wish to guard youagainst misinterpreting my wishes. I don't want the boy pampered, or toomuch indulged."
"We never pamper our boarding pupils," said Socrates, and it is quitecertain that he spoke the truth.
"It spoils boys to be too well treated."
"So it does," said Socrates, eagerly. "Plain, wholesome diet, withoutluxury, and a kind, but strict discipline--such are the features ofSmith Institute."
"Quite right and judicious, professor. I may remark that the boy, thoughreared in luxury by my brother, is really penniless."
"You don't say so?"
"Yes, he is solely dependent upon my generosity. I propose, however, togive him a good education at my own expense, and prepare him to earn hisliving in some useful way."
"Kind philanthropist!" exclaimed Socrates. "He ought, indeed, to begrateful."
"I doubt if he will," said Mr. Roscoe, shrugging his shoulders. "He hasa proud spirit, and a high idea of his own position, though he is ofunknown parentage, and has nothing of his own."
"Indeed!"
"I merely wish to say that you do not need to treat him as if he weremy nephew. It is best to be strict with him, and make him conform to therules."
"I will, indeed, Mr. Roscoe. Would that all guardians of youth were asjudicious! Your wishes shall be regarded."
After a little more conversation, Allan Roscoe took his leave.
So, under auspices not the most pleasant, Hector's school life began.
CHAPTER VII. THE TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND.