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This is an incredible autobiography of a man devoted to forming children both in schools and in literature. His legacy lives on in his books, especially the Tom Playfair series.
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CHAPTER VII
The Rocky Road
WHILE my first attempt at teaching at St. Mary’s College was really successful, even then I began to suspect that I was not as yet fully equipped for dealing with the American boy. It was true I was perfectly at home with the small hoy, but with his larger brother the case was different. I did not feel completely at ease with the young man; and what is worse, I showed it in my manner.
One day shortly after my arrival at St. Mary’s I was called upon to act as prefect in the yard. I went to my appointed duty with perfect obedience, but with the secret longing that it were supper time and all were well.
It was a bitter day in midwinter. The yard abounded in snow. It was my duty to see that the throwing of snowballs and kindred amusements were conducted within well-set limits. As I looked around the yard, my heart sank, and I expected trouble. We generally get what we expect, and for two or three hours I had pecks of trouble. I thought that some of the boys were insolent. Possibly they were; probably they were not. I had not acquired the art of speaking to them as a prefect to his subordinates. I was not sure of my authority, and the boys, sensing the situation, were not sure of it either.
My first day of prefecting was a flat failure. However, I had plenty of time to study the situation to see wherein I had failed and to make suit able resolutions for future contingencies. For the rest of the year I was not called upon to do prefecting of any sort.
The summer came, and with it many changes in the staff of St. Mary’s College. Most important of all, Father Van der Eerden, rector of the college, was succeeded by Father Charles Coppens, who had been my spiritual father and spiritual director when I attended St. Louis University. Father Coppens had formed a high idea of my excellences. He thought I was just the man to take charge of the school discipline and appointed me head prefect of the college. Before he got through with me-a period of two years-I have no doubt that he was disappointed. In fact I am sure of it.
The year which saw me in charge of the college discipline was one of the most important in the his tory of St. Mary’s College. It was a crucial year. Many circumstances conspired to bring about this state of things.
First of all, there were a new rector and a new staff of professors. The former prefects were sent to other fields. The traditions of the college were in danger of being lost. These traditions were, none of them, venerable. They were not well founded, and indeed some of the most important of them were to be upset, as we shall presently see.
Again, the number attending the college was greatly increased at the opening of the year by the accession of a large class of boys who had been attending a boarding school in another part of the country. Many of these boys brought with them habits and customs which did not promise to make for the good of St. Mary’s. Finally, there came back to St. Mary’s three or four boys who had formerly attended the school, but who had left by request; and with them came companions of theirs of the same ilk. There were many other newcomers belonging to neither of these sets-boys from St. Louis, Cincinnati and other cities, of a very fine type.
The first week of school had not passed when I saw that the college was confronted with a serious situation. Two distinct groups of boys had already formed. The first group was made up of good boys-respectable, self-respecting and promising in every way. The second group was composed of a rougher element. They had returned from the previous year and were headed by three or four young gentlemen who, having previously left by re quest, had now returned in the hope of getting by under a new regime.
All these things were brought home to me partly by my dealings with the boys and partly by the information given me by a scholastic who had been prefect the previous year. He told me that unless something were done to check the return of such boys, incalculable harm would be done.
Armed with all this information, I had put the matter before Father Coppens. The new president was a saint, a man of solid virtue. Also he was an optimist. He listened to me with perfect patience and with sympathy. But he stood up for the objectionable boys. His argument was this: These boys are returning under a new regime; they will get another chance. Who knows but that they may turn out, under our new discipline, to be good boys? My answer was that St. Mary’s was not a reform school; and so, with mutual expressions of esteem and confidence, we parted.
As the weeks went on, I perceived, with a sinking heart, that the morale of the school was suffering. The “gang” was gaining ascendency day after day. It is true that several changes of an important character had been made to safeguard the better class of boys. The conduct card given every month, now meant much. Those who received conduct cards were entitled to many privileges. The most important of all was the privilege of going out walking unattended by a prefect on Sundays and holi days. This was something new in the history of St. Mary’s, for up to that year the boys were not allowed to leave the college yard unless attended by one or more prefects.
From this point of view the better class of boys were well off, but they were the object of the hate and derison of the “gang.” The outlook, so far as I was concerned, became gloomier each day. I trembled for the future of St. Mary’s.
Once more, then, I went to see Father Rector. I put before him the situation, pointing out that there were fifteen or twenty boys at least who should not be at St. Mary’s, that so long as they were in attendance they would exercise a damaging influence on the entire school, and that unless something drastic were done the college was in danger of suffering mortal hurt. So the case seemed to me. Father Coppens, gentle, considerate and kind, could not see the situation in that light at all. His desire was to be patient and long-suffering and to trust to Providence to bring the boys in question to a better state of mind.
I was a very young man at that time, but I took a very bold stand; and I did it knowing that I was acting within my rights.
I said: “Father Rector, I feel compelled to tell you that I cannot see the matter in the same light as you see it. I feel bound in conscience to tell you that I must appeal the case. I intend to put the matter before the Reverend Father Provincial.”