THE CHRISTMAS TRUANTS

THE CHRISTMAS TRUANTS

Christmas was coming, a long time ago, and the boys in a certain far-away school were talking and thinking about it. Eleven of these youngsters, who were all great friends, and generally kept together, whether at work or play, held a secret meeting, at which they resolved that they were tired of the ordinary ways of spending Christmas.

“We are bored to death,” said one of the older boys, “with Christmas trees, with Christmas games, with Christmas carols, and with the hanging-up of stockings on Christmas Eve. Such things may do very well for children, but we have grown out of them.”

“That’s true!” cried the others. “We’ve grown out of that kind of nonsense.”

“Yes, sir!” exclaimed the smallest boy of all, who was generally known as Tomtit. “We’ve grown out of that.”

THEY WERE MARCHED AWAY TO THE ROBBER’S CASTLE.

“Of course,” said the biggest boy, who was called by his companions Old Pluck, because he had never been found to be afraid of anything, “there will be this Christmas childishness at the school, just as there has been always; and I propose that, instead of staying here and submitting to it, we run away, and have a Christmas to suit ourselves.”

“Hurrah!” cried the other boys. “That’s what we shall do. Have a Christmas to suit ourselves.”

Having made up their minds to this, these eleven boys, on the afternoon of the next day but one to Christmas, ran away from school, in order that they might find a place where they would be free to celebrate the great holiday in whatever way they pleased. They walked as fast as they could, little Tomtit keeping up bravely in the rear, although he was obliged to run almost as much as he walked, until they were at a long distance from the school. Night was now coming on, and Old Pluck called a halt.

“Boys,” said he, “we will camp at the edge of that forest, and those of you who have brought bows and arrows had better look about and see if you can’t shoot some birds and rabbits for our supper. The unarmed members must gather wood to make a camp-fire. But if you are tired, Tomtit, you needn’t do anything.”

“Tired!” exclaimed the little fellow, standing up very straight and throwing out his chest; “I should like to know why I should be tired. I’ll go and bring some logs.”

Tomtit was very anxious to be considered just as strong and active as the other boys. Every morning he used to get one of his companions to feel the muscles of his arms, to see if they had not increased in size since the day before.

The camp-fire was burning brightly when the boys with the bows and arrows returned, stating that they had found it rather too late in the day for game, and that it would be better to postpone the shooting of birds and rabbits till the next morning. Old Pluck then asked the members of his little company what provisions they had brought with them; and it was found that no one except Tomtit had thought of bringing anything. He had in his coat-pocket a luncheon of bread and meat. It was thereupon ordered that Tomtit’s luncheon should be divided into eleven portions, and the little fellow was given a knife with which to cut it up.

It was at this time that there came through the forest a band of robbers—five men and a chief. These men, on their way to their castle, had been talking about the approach of Christmas.

“I am getting very tired,” said the chief, “of the wild revelries with which on great occasions we make our castle ring. It would be a most agreeable relief, methinks, if we could celebrate the coming Christmas as ordinary people do. The trouble is we don’t know how.”

“You speak well,” replied one of his followers. “We would be glad enough to have the ordinary Christmas festivities if we did but know how such things are managed.”

The conversation was cut short at this point by the discovery of a camp-fire at the edge of the wood. Instantly every robber crouched close to the ground, and crept silently to the spot where the boys were gathered around Tomtit, watching him as he cut up his luncheon.

In a few moments the chief gave a whistle, and then the robbers rushed out, and each of the men seized two of the larger boys, while the chief stooped down and grasped Tomtit by the collar. Some of the boys kicked and scuffled a great deal; but this was of no use, and they were all marched away to the robbers’ castle, little Tomtit feeling very proud that it took a whole man to hold him by the collar.

When they reached the castle the boys were shut up in a large room, where they were soon provided with a plentiful supper. Having finished their meal, they were conducted to the great hall of the castle, where the robber chief sat in his chair of state, a huge fire blazing upon the hearth, while suits of armor, glittering weapons, and trophies of many kinds were hung upon the walls.

The boys were now ordered to tell their story; and when Old Pluck had finished it, the chief addressed his captives thus: “I am sure that you young fellows could never have imagined the pleasure you were going to give to me when you determined to run away from school at this happy season.

“My men and myself have a fancy for a Christmas like that of other people. We want a Christmas tree, Christmas carols and games, and all that sort of festivity. We know nothing about these things ourselves, and were wondering how we could manage to have the kind of Christmas we want. But now that we have you boys with us, it will all be simple and easy enough. You shall celebrate Christmas for us in the manner to which you have always been accustomed. We will provide you with everything that is necessary, and we will have a good old school-and-home Christmas. You shall even hang up your stockings, and I will see to it that Santa Claus for the first time visits this castle. And now, my fine fellows, to bed with you, and to-morrow we will all go to work to prepare for a good old-fashioned Christmas.”

The boys were conducted to a large upper room, where they found eleven mattresses spread out upon the floor. They threw themselves upon their beds; but not one of them could close his eyes through thinking of the doleful plight which they were in. They had run away to get rid of the tiresome old Christmas doings, and now they were to go through all those very things just to please a band of robbers. The thought of it was insupportable, and for an hour or two each boy rolled and moaned upon his mattress.

At last Old Pluck spoke. “Boys,” he said, “all is now quiet below, and I believe those rascally robbers have gone to bed. Let us wait a little while longer, and then slip downstairs and run away. We can surely find some door or window which we can open; and I, for one, am not willing to stay here and act the part of a Christmas slave for the pleasure of these bandits.”

“No,” exclaimed Tomtit, sitting up in bed, so as to expand his chest, “we will never consent to that.”

The boys eagerly agreed to Old Pluck’s plan, and in about half an hour they quietly arose and stole toward the stairs. The full moon was shining in through the windows, so that they could see perfectly well where they were going. They had gone a short distance down the great staircase, when Old Pluck, who led the way, heard a slight noise behind him. Turning to inquire what this was, he was told it was the cracking of Tomtit’s knees.

“Pass the word to Tomtit,” he said, in a whisper, “that if he can’t keep his knees from cracking he must stay where he is.”

Poor little Tomtit, who brought up the rear, was dreadfully troubled when he heard this; but he bravely passed the word back that his knees should not crack any more, and the line moved on.

It was difficult now for Tomtit to take a step, for if he bent his knees they were sure to crack. He tried going downstairs stiff-legged, like a pair of scissors; but this he found almost impossible, so he made up his mind that the only thing he could do was to slide down the broad banister. He was used to this feat, and he performed it with much dexterity. The banister, however, was very smooth and steep, and he went down much faster than he intended, shooting off at the bottom, and landing on the floor on the broad of his back.

The boys were now in the great hall, and, seeing a light in the adjoining room, they looked into it. There, upon couches made of the skins of wild beasts, they saw the six robbers, fast asleep. A happy thought now came into the mind of Old Pluck. Stepping back, he looked around him, and soon perceived in one corner of the hall a quantity of rich stuffs and other booty, bound up into bundles with heavy cords. Taking out his knife he quickly cut off a number of these cords and gave them to his companions.

“Boys,” he then whispered, “I have thought of a splendid plan. Let us bind these robbers hand and foot, and then, instead of doing what they want us to do, we can make them do what we want. That will be ever so much better fun than running away.”

“Good!” said the boys. “But suppose they wake up while we are tying them?”

“If we are truly brave,” said Old Pluck, “we must just go ahead, and not think of anything like that.”

“Yes, sir,” said Tomtit, straightening himself and throwing out his chest, “we mustn’t think of anything of that sort.”

The little fellow was terribly frightened at the idea of going into that room and tying those big, savage men; but if the other fellows did it, he was bound to do it too.

The boys now softly slipped into the room, and as the robbers slept very soundly, it was not long before they were all securely bound hand and foot, Old Pluck going around himself to see that every cord was well drawn and knotted. Then, motioning to the boys to follow him, he went into the great hall, and there he ordered his companions to arm themselves.

This command was obeyed with delight by the boys. Some took swords, some spears, while others bound around their waists great belts containing daggers and knives. Old Pluck laid hold of a huge battle-axe, while Tomtit clapped on his head the chief’s hat, ornamented with eagle plumes, and took into his hand a thin, sharp rapier, the blade of which was quite as long as himself.

When all were ready, the boys reëntered the other room, and, with their weapons in their hands, stood over the sleeping robbers. Raising his heavy battle-axe high above the head of the chief, Old Pluck called out to him to awake. Instantly every man opened his eyes, and struggled to rise. But when they found their hands and feet were tied, and saw the boys with their swords and spears standing over them, and heard Old Pluck’s loud voice ordering them not to move, every robber lay flat on his back, and remained perfectly still.

“Now, then,” said Old Pluck to the chief, “if you do not promise that you and your men will obey me for the next two days I will split your head with this axe.”

“I am willing to parley with you,” said the chief, “and will listen to all you have to say; but for mercy’s sake put down that battle-axe. It is too heavy for you, and you will let it drop on me without intending it.”

“No,” said Old Pluck, steadying the great axe as well as he could, “I will hold it over you until we have made our bargain.”

“Speak quickly, then,” said the chief, his face turning pale as he looked up at the trembling axe.

“All you have to do,” said Old Pluck, “is to promise that you and your men will do everything that we tell you to do to-morrow and next day. You will not find our tasks at all difficult, and it will be only for two days, you know.”

“Any sort of a task, if it lasted a year,” said the chief, “would be better than having you staggering over me with that battle-axe. I promise without reserve for myself and men.”

“Very good,” said Old Pluck, letting down his axe as carefully as he could. “And now we will set you free.”

The men were untied, and the boys went to bed, and the next morning all breakfasted together in the great hall. When the meal was over the chief pushed back his chair, and addressed the boys.

“Now, then, my young friends,” said he, “what is it that you wish me and my men to do?”

Then stood up Old Pluck and said, “We boys, as I told you before, ran away from school because we are tired of the old humdrum Christmas; and nothing better could have happened to us than to get you fine fellows into our power, as we have done. It will be the jolliest thing in the world for us to see you and your band go through all the wild feats and bold exploits which belong to robber life; and we would like you to begin now, and keep it up all day and to-morrow.”

“But what would you have us do?” asked the chief, somewhat surprised.

“I should like to see you sack a village,” said Old Pluck. “How would that suit you, boys?”

The boys all declared that they thought that would do very well, to begin with.

The chief turned to his lieutenant and said: “Is there any village round here that has not been recently sacked?”

The lieutenant reflected a moment. “There is Buville,” he said. “We haven’t been there for six months.”

“Very good,” said the captain, rising; “we’ll sack Buville.”

In a short time the robber band, followed by the eleven boys, set out for Buville, a few miles distant. When they came within sight of the village the chief ordered his company to get behind a hedge which ran on one side of the road, and thus stealthily approach the place.

As soon as they were near enough the chief gave a loud whistle, and the whole company rushed wildly into the main street. The robbers flashed their drawn swords in the sunlight and brandished their spears, while the boys jumped and howled like so many apprentice bandits.

“Buville is ours!” cried the chief. “Come forth, ye base villagers, and pay us tribute.”

“Come forth!” yelled little Tomtit. “Surrender, and trib!—I mean, pay tribute.”

At this the people began to flock into the street; and presently the principal man of the village appeared, carrying a sheet of paper and pen and ink.

“Good-morning, bold sir,” he said, addressing the chief. “And what is it you’ll have to-day? Shall we begin with flour? How will two barrels do?”

The chief nodded, and the man wrote down on his paper two barrels of flour.

“Sugar, hams, and eggs, I suppose?” continued the man.

The chief assented, and these were written down.

“Sundry groceries, of course?” said he. “And would you care for any rich stuffs?”

“Well, I don’t know that we need any just now,” said the chief; “but you might throw in enough gold-threaded blue taffeta to make a jerkin for that little codger back there.”

“Three-quarters of a yard of blue taffeta,” wrote the man. And then he looked up and asked: “Anything else to-day?”

“I believe not,” said the chief. And then brandishing his sword, he shouted: “Back to your homes, base villagers, and thank your stars that I let ye off so easily.”

“Home with ye!” shouted Tomtit, “and keep on star-thanking till we come again.”

“You need be in no hurry about sending those things,” said the chief to the principal man, as he was about to leave, “except the taffeta. I’d like to have that to-day.”

“Very good,” said the other; “I’ll send it immediately.”

As the robbers and boys departed, the latter were not at all slow to say that they were very much disappointed at what they had seen. It was tamer than a game of football.

“The fact is,” said the chief, “these villagers have been sacked so often that the people are used to it, and they just walk out and pay up without making any row about it. It’s the easiest way, both for them and for us; but I admit that it is not very exciting.”

“I should say not,” said Old Pluck. “What I want is ‘the wild rush and dash, the clink and the clank, and the jingly-jank, hi-ho!’”

“That’s so!” shouted little Tomtit. “‘The clink and the clank, and the jingly-jank, ho hi!’”

“I think we’ll next try a highway robbery,” said Old Pluck, “and stop a company of travellers on the road. That must be exciting.”

The boys all shouted their assent to this plan, and the robber chief led the way to the nearest high-road.

Here the whole party concealed themselves behind rocks and bushes, and waited patiently for a company of travellers to pass by. It was a long, long time before anybody came, and Tomtit had a sound nap in the shade of a hedge.

At last dust was seen in the distance, and before long five horsemen came riding up. They were all elderly men, and each of them led a mule or a horse, loaded with heavy panniers and packages. With drawn swords and brandished spears the robbers rushed out, followed by the boys, with yells and shouts. Instantly the elderly men stopped and descended from their horses.

“We surrender,” said the leader to the robber chief; “but we pray you will not pillage us utterly. We are going to seek a new home for our families, and for the money we get for the sale of these goods we hope to buy the little land we need. If you take these, you leave us nothing.”

The chief turned to Old Pluck, and said: “Well, what shall we do about it? Shall we take their goods?”

“If you set out to do a thing,” said Old Pluck, “I don’t see why you don’t do it. There’s no sense in backing down.”

“That’s so!” cried Tomtit, who had just wakened up, and pushed his way through the hedge. “No backing down. Your money or your lives, travellers. Take notice of that.”

“Lead away the horses and mules,” said the chief to his men, “and let the travellers go.”

As they were leaving the scene of this exploit Old Pluck did not feel altogether easy in his mind. “There used to be a good habit among robbers,” he said to the chief, “and that was to give to the poor what they took from the rich. We will go along this road until we meet some really poor people, and we will give them these goods.”

The robbers and boys, with the loaded horses and mules, walked along the road for nearly an hour, but met with no poor people. At last the chief declared that it was time to turn and go back to the castle, if they wanted to be there by dinner-time. The boys were very willing to go to dinner, and the whole party retraced their steps.

When they reached the spot where they had robbed the travellers, they were surprised to see the five elderly men sitting by the roadside, groaning mournfully.

“What, here yet!” cried the chief. “What’s the matter?”

“There is no use going anywhere,” sadly replied the leader. “We have no money with which to buy even food to eat, and no goods to sell. We might as well die here as in any other place.”

“Boys,” exclaimed Old Pluck, after gazing a few moments on the unfortunate group, “I don’t believe we will ever find anybody as poor as these travellers now are. Let us give them the goods.”

“All right!” shouted the boys. And the loaded horses and mules were delivered to their former owners.

After dinner the boys began to grumble a good deal at the disappointments of the morning.

“We’ve done nothing yet,” cried Old Pluck, “that is half exciting enough, and we are bound to have a good time this afternoon. I go in for burning a town.”

“Hurrah!” said the boys. “We’ll burn a town!”

“That is a very serious thing,” said the chief. “Can’t you think of something else?”

Old Pluck looked at him reproachfully. “We want something serious,” he said. “What we’ve had so far is nothing but child’s play.”

The chief now saw that if he persisted in his objections he would hurt the feelings of the boys, and so he consented to burn a town. A few miles to the south there was a good-sized town, which the chief thought would burn very well, and thither the boys and robbers repaired, carrying blazing torches and fire-brands.

When they reached the town and had made known their purpose the people were filled with alarm. They crowded into the streets and begged the robbers not to burn their houses, their goods, and perhaps themselves and their children.

The chief now took the boys aside, and consulted with them.

“I wish you would consider this matter a little more before you order me to set this town in flames. I am told that there is a magazine filled with gunpowder in the centre of the place, and there will be a terrible explosion when the fire reaches it.”

“Hurrah!” cried the boys; “that will be splendid.”

“Many of these citizens will lose their lives,” said the chief, “and the rest will be utterly ruined.”

“Now, look here,” cried Old Pluck, “there’s no use of always backing down. I’m tired of it.”

“Very well,” said the chief, “but you yourselves must inform the people of your decision.”

“We’ll do that,” said Old Pluck. “Tomtit, you go tell those people that the town has got to burn, and there’s no use talking any more about it.”

“That’s so,” said Tomtit. “She has got to burn.” And with his chest thrown out, and his hands in his pockets, the little fellow boldly advanced to the crowd of people.

As soon as he came near the old men, the women and the children fell on their knees around him, and with tears and lamentations besought him to intercede with the robbers to save their town. Poor little Tomtit was very much moved by their wild grief and despair. Tears came into his eyes, and his little chest heaved with emotion; but he kept up a brave heart, and stood true to his companions.

“It’s no use,” he said, “for you to be blubbering and crying. Your houses have all got to be burned up, and the powder-magazine has got to go off with a big bang, and your furniture and beds will all be burned, and the babies’ cradles, and—and—I’m awful sorry for it,” and here the tears rolled down his cheeks; “but we boys have got to stick by each other, and you won’t have any homes, and I expect you will all perish—boo-hoo! But it won’t do to back down—boo-hoo-hoo! And the little babies will die; but the old thing has got to burn, you know.”

“Now, look here, Tomtit,” said Old Pluck, who, with the rest of the boys, had drawn near, “don’t you be too hard on these people. I say let the town stand.”

The boys agreed with one voice. And Tomtit, kicking one of his little legs above his head, shouted in ecstasy: “Yes, sir, let the town stand, babies and all.”

At this the women rushed up to the little fellow, and, seizing him in their arms, nearly kissed him to death.

“I’d like to know what we are to do next,” sadly remarked Old Pluck.

“I’ll tell you,” cried Tomtit. “Let the chief steal a bride.”

The whole company stopped and looked at Tomtit. “Little boy,” said they, “what do you mean?”

“Why, of course,” said Tomtit, “I mean for the chief to seize a fair damsel and carry her off on his horse to be his bride, the wild hoofs clattering amid the crags.”

“Hoot!” cried all the boys in derision. And the chief said to Tomtit: “Little boy, I know of no fair damsel to steal, and, besides, I do not want a bride.”

“It’s pretty hard,” said Tomtit, wiping his eyes with his little sleeve. “I’ve done just what you fellows told me to, and now you won’t order anything I want to see.”

That night the boys ordered the robbers to hold high revels in the great hall. The flowing bowl was passed, and the great flagons were filled high; wild songs were sung, and the welkin was made to ring, as well as the robbers could do it, with jovial glee. The boys watched the proceedings for some time, but they did not find them very interesting, and soon went to bed.

The next morning Old Pluck called a meeting of his companions. “Boys,” he said, “this robber life is a good deal stupider than anything we left behind us. Let’s get back to school as fast as we can, and enjoy what is left of the Christmas fun. We will all admit that we are sorry for what we have done, and will promise not to run away again; and Tomtit can go to the master and tell him so.”

“I’ll be the first one whipped,” ruefully remarked Tomtit; “but if you boys say so, of course I’ll do it.”

The boys now took leave of the robbers, Tomtit having been first presented with the piece of blue taffeta to make him a jerkin. When they reached the school Tomtit told his tale, and he was the only one who was not punished.

The next year these eleven boys were leaving school for a vacation, and on their way home they thought they would stop and see their old friends, the robbers. Much to their surprise, they found everything changed at the castle. It was now a boys’ school; the chief was the principal, and each of the other robbers was a teacher.

“You see,” said the principal to Old Pluck, “we never knew how stupid and uninteresting a robber’s life was until we were forced to lead it against our will. While you were here we learned to like boys very much, and so we concluded to set up this school.”

“Do you have Christmas trees, and carols, and games?”

“Oh, yes,” answered the principal.

“So do we,” said Old Pluck.

“Yes, sir,” exclaimed Tomtit, standing up very straight. “No more fire and tribute for us. We’ve grown out of that kind of nonsense.”