“The supplementary season dragged along, but it wa'n't quite the success
it looked like at the start. The gunnin' that year was even worse than
usual, and excursions and picnics in late September ain't all joy, by
no manner of means. We shut up the second Annex at the end of the month,
and transferred the help to Number One. Precious few new boarders come,
and a good many of the old ones quit. Them that did stay, stayed on
account of the football. We was edgin' up toward the end of the series,
and our team and the Wapatomac crowd was neck and neck. It looked as if
the final game between them and us, over on their grounds, would settle
who'd have the soup tureen.
“Pa Robinson and Parker had been quite interested in Willie when he
fust come. They thought he might play with the eleven, you see. But he
wouldn't. Set his foot right down.
“'I don't care for athletics,' he says, mild but firm. 'They used to
interest me somewhat, but not now.'
“The old man was crazy. He'd heard about Willie's literature leanin's,
and he give out that he'd never see a writer yet that wa'n't a 'sissy.'
Wanted us to fire Bearse right off, but we kept him, thanks to me. If
he'd seen the 'sissy' kick the ball once, same as I did, it might have
changed his mind some. He was passin' along the end of the field when
the gang was practicin', and the ball come his way. He caught it on the
fly, and sent it back with his toe. It went a mile, seemed so, whirlin'
and whizzin'. Willie never even looked to see where it went; just kept
on his course for the kitchen.
“The big sensation hit us on the fifth of October, right after supper.
Me and Peter T. and Jonadab was in the office, when down comes Henry,
old Robinson's man servant, white as a sheet and wringin' his hands
distracted.
“'Oh, I say, Mr. Brown!' says he, shakin' all over like a quicksand.
'Oh, Mr. Brown, sir! Will you come right up to Mr. Sterz--I mean Mr.
Robinson's room, please, sir! 'E wants to see you gentlemen special.
'Urry, please! 'Urry!'
“So we ''urried,' wonderin' what on earth was the matter. And when we
got to the Robinson rooms, there was Grace, lookin' awful pale, and the
old man himself ragin' up and down like a horse mack'rel in a fish weir.
“Soon as papa sees us, he jumped up in the air, so's to speak, and when
he lit 'twas right on our necks. His daughter, who seemed to be the
sanest one in the lot, run and shut the door.
“'Look here, you!' raved the old gent, shakin' both fists under Peter
T.'s nose. 'Didn't you tell me this was a respectable hotel? And ain't
we payin' for respectability?'
“Peter admitted it, bein' too much set back to argue, I cal'late.
“'Yes!' rages Robinson. 'We pay enough for all the respectability in
this state. And yet, by the livin' Moses! I can't go out of my room
to spoil my digestion with your cussed dried-apple pie, but what I'm
robbed!'
“'Robbed!' the three of us gurgles in chorus.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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