night-gown, a drink of something warm and sweet, and then
tucked him into one of the three little beds standing in the room,
where he lay looking like a contented mummy and feeling that
nothing more in the way of luxury could be offered him.
Cleanliness in itself was a new and delightful sensation; flannel
gowns were unknown comforts in his world; sips of “good stuff”
soothed his cough as pleasantly as kind words did his lonely heart;
and the feeling that somebody cared for him made that plain room
seem a sort of heaven to the homeless child. It was like a cosy
dream; and he often shut his eyes to see if it would not vanish
when he opened them again. It was too pleasant to let him sleep,
and he could not have done so if he had tried, for in a few minutes
one of the peculiar institutions of Plumfield was revealed to his
astonished but appreciative eyes.
A momentary lull in the aquatic exercises was followed by the
sudden appearance of pillows flying in all directions, hurled by
white goblins, who came rioting out of their beds. The battle raged
in several rooms, all down the upper hall, and even surged at
intervals into the nursery, when some hard-pressed warrior took
refuge there. No one seemed to mind this explosion in the least; no
one forbade it, or even looked surprised. Nursey went on hanging
up towels, and Mrs. Bhaer laid out clean clothes, as calmly as if
the most perfect order reigned. Nay, she even chased one daring
boy out of the room, and fired after him the pillow he had slyly
thrown at her.
“Won’t they hurt ’em?” asked Nat, who lay laughing with all his
might.
“Oh dear, no! We always allow one pillow-fight Saturday night.
The cases are changed to-morrow; and it gets up a glow after the
boys’ baths; so I rather like it myself,” said Mrs. Bhaer, busy again
among her dozen pairs of socks.
“What a very nice school this is!” observed Nat, in a burst of
admiration.
“It’s an odd one,” laughed Mrs. Bhaer, “but you see we don’t
believe in making children miserable by too many rules, and too
much study. I forbade night-gown parties at first; but, bless you, it
was of no use. I could no more keep those boys in their beds than
so many jacks in the box. So I made an agreement with them: I
was to allow a fifteen-minute pillow-fight every Saturday night;
and they promised to go properly to bed every other night. I tried
it, and it worked well. If they don’t keep their word, no frolic; if
they do, I just turn the glasses round, put the lamps in safe places,
and let them rampage as much as they like.”
“It’s a beautiful plan,” said Nat, feeling that he should like to join
in the fray, but not venturing to propose it the first night. So he lay
enjoying the spectacle, which certainly was a lively one.
Tommy Bangs led the assailing party, and Demi defended his own
room with a dogged courage fine to see, collecting pillows behind
him as fast as they were thrown, till the besiegers were out of
ammunition, when they would charge upon him in a body, and
recover their arms. A few slight accidents occurred, but nobody
minded, and gave and took sounding thwacks with perfect good
humor, while pillows flew like big snowflakes, till Mrs. Bhaer
looked at her watch, and called out:
“Time is up, boys. Into bed, every man jack, or pay the forfeit!”
“What is the forfeit?” asked Nat, sitting up in his eagerness to
know what happened to those wretches who disobeyed this most
peculiar, but public-spirited school-ma’am.
“Lose their fun next time,” answered Mrs. Bhaer. “I give them five
minutes to settle down, then put out the lights, and expect order.
They are honorable lads, and they keep their word.”
That was evident, for the battle ended as abruptly as it began a
parting shot or two, a final cheer, as Demi fired the seventh pillow
at the retiring foe, a few challenges for next time, then order