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MASTER HOBBY'S SCHOOL BREAD AND MILK

A February Tribute

By ROSE MILLS POWERS

MASTER HOBBY was stern of rule;
Head was he of the parish school;
A very wise man, I 'd have you know,
In Fredericksburg, long years ago.

Some of his pupils used to shake

In their buckled shoes whene'er he spake.
Oh, Master Hobby was very wise,
With bushy eyebrows above his eyes.

Little he dreamed the sturdy boy
Who played like the rest with ball and toy-
Master George Washington was his name-
Would climb to the top of the stair of fame.

Little he knew his warlike play
At Indian fighting, day by day,
Siege and ambush in boyish sport,
Would lead to business of sterner sort.

For William Bustle, George's chum,
Was a likely lad with book and sum,
Quite as able to write and read,
And always followed to George's lead.

Average boys, in the master's eye,
George and William, and he would ply
His switch on either, in righteous zeal,
Facts and figures to make more real.

'T WAS when youthful Lincoln went, On his legal business bent,

Ere they chose him President.

Tall and straight and strong he stood,
And of sturdy hardihood,

Like a fir-tree in the wood.
And within his deep-set glance
Shone a steady radiance,
Lightening his countenance.
For a woodsman he was bred,
And its influence still was shed
In the upright life he led.
Once, when going on his way,
Came he at the end of day
To a widow's home to stay;

But the good dame drooped and sighed;
Bread and milk was all, she cried,
All her larder could provide.

Laughed the youthful Lincoln there:
"Bread and milk is proper fare,
Serve me up a bounteous share;

"Who would care for meat or fish? Bread and milk?-As choice a dish As the President could wish!"

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"HANG the winter term!" grumbled Tom Jackson; "never anything to do in it."

"We 've cups," suggested Williams, his equally idle room-mate; "borrow some chocolate."

"Who's got the most?"

"Young Bigelow. But he's bought a padlock. Try the Hippo and the Hummingbird."

"I don't monkey with that combination." "But Hip 's still at the rink.”

"Then we eat." Tom bolted across the hall to knock and open the opposite door at the same time.

On the window-seat, a wiry figure snapped upright. "Shut that door from the outside!" ordered the Humming-bird, in a cold tone; "this is no soup kitchen."

"Can't a fellow ask about his geometry without your thinking he wants to borrow something?" asked Tom, deeply injured. "You can't," declared the Bird, grimly. "But I want

"You'll get it," promised the Bird.

He was quick, but Tom the quicker. A minute's tussle, and, with feet tightly bound, he was tossed back to the window-seat. "I hated to do it to you," panted Tom, "but I need that chocolate."

Again the Bird stole a glance at the clock. Outside, he heard what he had been hoping for. "Look under the bed," he advised.

"I'll return it next month," promised his conquerer, and went down on his knees.

The Bird began to choke. It was too easy! The next second the door opened. "Jump him, Hip!" he yelled.

The big fellow on the threshold blinked, then dived headlong. He did not know on whom he landed; it was sufficient that his room-mate had ordered him to do something. There was a howl, the crash of beating feet, then Tom was rolled over on his back. "What 'll I do now?" queried the Hippo, mildly.

"I'll attend to his case. All he wanted was to steal our chocolate."

The Hippo emitted an outraged roar. But even before Tom could beg for mercy, the Humming-bird came hopping across the "Hold him till I get the pitcher." "Don't drown me!" begged Tom; "this is my best suit."

room.

"It won't be," prophesied the Bird, and the next moment was back, a can of chocolate in one hand, the water-pitcher in the other. "Hang on while I frost him," he ordered.

Jackson begged in vain. Half a pitcher

of water was sloshed over his head, then the powdered chocolate sprinkled into his wet hair. The Bird's expert knuckles completed the disaster. "Throw him out!" he ordered. "Oh, Williams! Come get your birthday cake. And say, Tom, pick on some easy combination next time. Shut the door, Hip."

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Again the Hippo obeyed. "He nearly got you that time,' he observed as he sat down.

"Sure did! Thought you were about due, though. Sometime that crowd will learn to leave us alone. Did Cam waste all his temper on me, or did the rest of you suffer after I was fired?"

The Hippo snorted. "Hefairly roasted me." "Means well,"

owned the Bird; "full of school spirit and all that sort of stuff you read about."

"Gave you a raw deal."

For an instant his room-mate's face clouded, then the old grin returned. "Used to it," he said. "Never made a school team yet; should n't have got my hopes up now. It was you or me, anyway. So long as one of us gets the place, what's the dif?"

"You 've more speed," grumbled the Hippo. "I don't want to play, anyway. Say!" he exclaimed, suddenly experiencing

football, then hockey, and, as soon as this Norton game's over, I 've got to go into the tank with the crew. All I do is work. Maybe I'll quit the crew, too," he added.

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"'YOU 'VE GONE STALE, THAT 'S ALL'"'

an inspiration, "we 'll fool Cam. I'll quit playing, then he 'll have to put you in my place."

"What do you think I am?"

"But I'm sick of the whole thing, Birdie. I 've trained and trained and trained ever since I 've been here at St. Jo's. First it 's

The Bird looked at him and a queer smile twisted his lean face. "I 'd look nice making a team that way, would n't I?"

But the Hippo, having had an idea, was not one to surrender a novelty. "You're too fussy!" he exclaimed.

"It 's like you to think of such a thing,

Hip, but you know it's impossible. You've always been the athlete of the combination." "You play good hockey. Cam 's never given you a show. He never gives any one a show. All he has time to do is to pick on me.' Again the Hippo's wrongs came uppermost. "I'm sick of the whole thing."

"You've gone stale, that 's all."

Here was a new idea. The Hippo stared at his room-mate. "I have," he solemnly agreed; "I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. I need food, not the coarse stuff at the training-table. Did you waste all the chocolate on Tom?"

"There's another can, but you don't get

it."

The Hippo rose in all his might. "Don't I?"

"But you can't break training."

"Watch me."

"I won't stand for it. It might spoil the school's chance for the Norton game. Put down that chocolate!"

"Make me," dared the Hippo.

The Bird, frightened, did not hesitate to try. But the Hippo promptly sat on him. "For that," he ruled, "you 'll be the cook and the waiter."

"I won't."

For three minutes the Bird struggled, then was forced to give in. "The banquet will be served at my desk," ordered Hip. "Get busy!"

"Hope you choke. You ought to, for doing such a thing."

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"What really matters is what he said about you."

"I would n't play now," declared the Bird, "if he made me captain."

"Just because I 've been a chump 's no reason for you to be one. You 've always wanted to make a school team; now 's your chance. Grab it."

"Not in a thousand years!"

Nor, try as he would, could Hip budge him. The idea of winning his coveted school letters at such a price was not to be con

"It 's up to me, is n't it? Then why sidered, even between themselves. worry?"

The Bird, still protesting, got to work. What he ultimately placed before the rebel would have made any one less hungry throw the cup at him. But Hip sipped joyously. "This is great!" he declared. "Oh, come in."

He expected Williams. Instead, Mr. Campbell was staring at him in frank disgust. "Why are you breaking training?" snapped the coach.

The Humming-bird catapulted into the foreground. "'Cause he needed it," he announced; "he 's gone stale."

"Ah! has he?" Mr. Campbell looked from one to the other slowly. "I 've made a good athlete of you, Payton, the best we 've had in five years. Now I'm going to make a better example. You 're off the hockey team for breaking training."

"That 's not fair," protested the Humming-bird wildly. "It's all my fault; I made the chocolate."

Inside of an hour the story had spread throughout the school. Had the Hippo been less popular, he would have been sent to Coventry at once. But it was when Mr. Campbell's charge of treachery against the Humming-bird was whispered that indignation really blazed. They had had too many practical expositions of the loyalty which existed between the room-mates to believe anything in the world could make one false to the other.

"Look what I got this afternoon," raged Tom Jackson. "The Bird would never go back on Hip. Cam ought to be made to apologize."

"Cam 's never gone back on anything, either," Williams reminded him.

"He's wrecked the seven," mourned Blaine. "We 've lost that Norton game already."

"The Bird 's not so bad at wing," suggested Williams, hopefully.

"He won't play," declared Tom. "He's said that and he means it."

"We 've got to do something," argued Miller. "We can't take a licking from Norton. What 's left of the seven 's gone ballooning; we've got to get them back to earth."

"How?"

An informal

But Miller could not answer. meeting of the sixth form only resulted in a Phillipic from the furious Humming-bird. Therefore Nailor was put in Hip's position the next afternoon, and there was about as much fighting spirit shown in the practice as at a pink tea.

Dickson, the captain, broken-hearted, took his troubles to Mr. Campbell and came away without comfort. He tried to argue with the Humming-bird and came away with sincere regrets. Thereupon he took his life in his hands and cornered the Hippo. "You're responsible for this," he said. "How are you going to get us out of it?"

"Did n't know I was."

"But can't you see that you and the Bird have wrecked our chance of winning?"

"Oh, I'm sorry enough for my part, but I don't blame the Bird; he got a raw deal."

"But he's giving you a rawer one by not filling your place. Thought you two stuck together; thought you always protected each other."

"We are n't fighting any over this," drawled Hip.

"No, you bet you 're not! The Bird's as big a quitter as you are."

"Say, you leave the Bird alone!"

"I will. I've no use for a chap who 'll go back on his friend. Think that over."

The Hippo did think it over, so much so that he finally unburdened himself to the Bird. "If any one 's got the idea I 'm trying to get you in worse by not taking your place," snapped the Bird, "here 's where we fool 'em again. I don't care about what Cam said to me, but no one 's going to be able to say you 've wrecked the seven. We play the game together. I'm going to play the Norton game for both of us."

The Hippo tried to prove it unnecessary for the Bird to swallow his pride, but his friend would not listen. "I'm going to take your place," was all he would say.

He found Dickson cool and unenthusiastic when he reported for practice the next afternoon, nor did any of the other six question him as to his change of mind. As for the coach, he confined himself strictly to the work in hand.

The result was that a disorganized seven went into the Norton game on Saturday afternoon. The visitors were quick to sense the situation. Their own play speeded up, their attack became sparkling in its teamwork, and the left side of the rink was cheering madly within three minutes, for the score was already 1 to 0.

They had

And

St. Jo's took the blow dumbly. not counted on being overwhelmed. that was what they saw ahead. Again that machine-like attack began. Again and again only whirlwind skating by Dickson and Sackett prevented another score. When St. Jo's recovered the puck, it was only to shoot wildly. Her individual runs started well, but broke down time after time, because there was no well-formed line to drive home the attack.

Williams tried to organize the cheering. "Get into it, fellows!" he begged. 'em the whole school is n't yellow."

"Show

The Humming-bird, following a flying Norton forward, heard the taunt. One of his best friends was calling some one yellow. He had no time to analyze the charge; he accepted it as a reflection on the Hippo. He forgot everything except that he was filling old Hip's place.

He saw the Norton player check his speed to shoot for the goal. With all his power, he lunged. There was a thud as the shot was blocked, a yell of delight as the Bird wheeled and started back up the ice, dribbling the puck ahead of him.

now.

He was back of the first line of defense He caroomed past the attacking center. One more man, and then only the crouching goal-keeper was between him and a tied score. He heard a sharp-called signal from across the rink, knew Dickson had ordered him to pass, but thought only of the goal and Hip.

The heavier Hippo might have made the play. But the Norton back charged. There was a sharp check, a swirl of powdered ice, a groan from St. Jo's, and the puck was on its way back up the rink again.

"Obey signals!" shouted Dickson; "I'll put in another sub if you won't play the game."

The Bird's jaw set. Calling him a sub did not hurt. That was what he was. But to tell him that he was not playing the game after such a run made him furious. St. Jo's had not come so near scoring before, and now they found fault with him. reason a moment later.

They had graver The speedy Nor

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