Harry Watson's High School Days: or, The Rivals of Rivertown

Harry Watson's High School Days: or, The Rivals of Rivertown
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Книга "Harry Watson's High School Days: or, The Rivals of Rivertown", автором которой является Frank Webster, представляет собой захватывающую работу в жанре Зарубежная классика. В этом произведении автор рассказывает увлекательную историю, которая не оставит равнодушными читателей.

Автор мастерски воссоздает атмосферу напряженности и интриги, погружая читателя в мир загадок и тайн, который скрывается за хрупкой поверхностью обыденности. С прекрасным чувством языка и виртуозностью сюжетного развития, Frank Webster позволяет читателю погрузиться в сложные эмоциональные переживания героев и проникнуться их судьбами. Webster настолько живо и точно передает неповторимые нюансы человеческой психологии, что каждая страница книги становится путешествием в глубины человеческой души.

"Harry Watson's High School Days: or, The Rivals of Rivertown" - это не только захватывающая история, но и искусство, проникнутое глубокими мыслями и философскими размышлениями. Это произведение призвано вызвать у читателя эмоциональные отклики, задуматься о важных жизненных вопросах и открыть новые горизонты восприятия мира.

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CHAPTER I – HARRY SHOWS HIS METTLE

“Hey, fellows, we’ve a new student at Rivertown High!”

“Who is he, Socker?” chorused a group of boys to whom their schoolmate had come running with his tidings.

“Don’t know. Nettie told me that she and Viola had met him as he was coming out of Principal Larmore’s office.”

“Yes, and you’d better watch out, Elmer. Nettie said Viola has been talking about nothing else but that good-looking fellow since she saw him!” bantered another of the group.

The boy, light and rather handsome, but with a weak face, to whom this last remark had been addressed was about to reply, when a warning was sounded.

“Keep quiet! Here he comes now!” declared Socker.

Instantly all eyes were turned in the direction of the schoolhouse where they saw a lad walking with a swinging stride. Apparently about fifteen years of age, he was well built and rather tall. Dark hair, which curled about his cap, and laughing eyes bespoke him as a jolly, handsome fellow, and the ruddy glow brought to his cheeks by the crisp winter air was evidence that he was possessed of health in abundance.

“Why, I know who he is!” asserted another of the group.

“Who?”

“He must be Harry Watson, nephew of the Widow Watson. I remember Mrs. Watson told mother the other day that her nephew, Harry, was coming to Rivertown.”

“Where’s he from?”

“Can’t say.”

“Well, let’s see if he’s any good!” exclaimed a big, hulking fellow, Pud Snooks, who was the bully of the school. “Hey, you, Watson, come over here!” he shouted.

Rivertown High School, a two-story brick building containing some fifteen class rooms and a large assembly room, was situated on a bluff overlooking the Conoque River: and the road leading from it to the village, in addition to being steep, made a sharp turn at the foot of the hill.

The spot was a favorite one with the scholars for coasting, and several of the boys had been in the act of placing a double-runner bob in position at the top of the hill, when they had been apprised of the fact there was a new student in school.

The boys of Rivertown High had a fondness for trying out new students, and Pud’s suggestion met with ready approval.

Accordingly, when the bully proposed putting Harry Watson to the test, the other boys sat down on the double-runner, taking good care to leave the steering seat vacant.

“When I shove off, everybody stand up!” whispered Pud. Then he exclaimed aloud:

“Hey, Watson! Can you steer a sled?”

Stopping as he heard his name, Harry looked toward the group of boys.

“Sure thing, if you’d like to have me,” he answered. “My name is Harry Watson.”

“And mine’s Pud Snooks,” announced the bully. Then bowing in mock seriousness, he continued:

“That fancy blonde behind me is Elmer Craven. He is the richest and most famous personage we have at Rivertown High. Twice a week he goes across the river to Lumberport, and he believes that Viola Darrow is never happy when – ”

“Oh, cut it out, Pud!” growled Elmer.

With a grin, the bully went on with his introductions.

“The next exhibit is Socker Gales, and the specimen with the ten-foot reach is Longback, whom his family calls Sam Dalton. Now just take the ropes and I’ll push off. We’re a precious load, as I hope I’ve made clear to you, so don’t tip us over!”

While Harry had been acknowledging these bantering introductions, he had also been looking at the icy roadway.

A glance at the sharp turn had told him it would require clever work to make it, and so, when he took the steering ropes, instead of sitting down on the sled, he gave them a quick jerk – to have one of them part near the runner.

“Good thing that didn’t happen on the hill!” he exclaimed, quickly cutting off the broken end and making a new knot, after which he again tested the rope and found it sound.

Pud and his chums, however, though they pretended to, did not share this opinion, and that there might not be more delay, as soon as Harry sat down and placed his feet on the bracers, the bully started the sled.

“We’re off!” he shouted, as he gave the double-runner a terrific shove.

As though eager for the fun, the first sled shot over the crest of the hill – and then all the boys put their feet down and let the sled pass between their legs!

Instantly Harry realized that he was alone on the double-runner.

With no weight on the hind sled, he knew it would bump and slew as soon as he got fairly started and especially when he struck the curve. But Harry was game.

“I’ll show these Rivertown High chaps that they can’t stump me by any of their tricks,” he said to himself, and braced his feet more firmly, leaning back to throw as much weight as possible on the hind sled.

As the double-runner gained momentum, it fairly danced over the icy roadway.

Behind, Pud and his cronies were hurrying as fast as they could that they might gain a spot whence they could see the spill they expected when the sled struck the curve.

But as Harry approached the turn, he leaned far out.

“Oh, you Pud! You guessed wrong when you picked Watson for an easy mark,” chuckled Longback. “That boy knows something about steering.”



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