# The Rover Boys on the Farm/Chapter 11

As my old readers know, Putnam Hall was a handsome structure of brick and stone standing in the center of a large plot of ground, bounded on two sides by cedar woods. To the front was the campus and the wagon road and beyond this a slope leading to the lake. To the rear were rich farm lands, cultivated solely for the benefit of the institution. Besides the school, there were a building fitted up as a gymnasium, and also several barns and carriage houses. The Hall was built in the form of the letter E, and was three stories high. It contained numerous classrooms, a private office, a large mess hall, or dining room, and both large and small dormitories.
The master of the school was Captain Victor Putnam, who was a bachelor, and as kind as he was strict. Captain Putnam was a West Point graduate, and had modeled his school somewhat after that famous government institution. When the school was first organized the Rover boys did not go there, but a number of other bright ​and lively lads did, and what these cadets accomplished has already been related in a line of stories called "The Putnam Hall Series," starting with "The Putnam Hall Cadets." These lads had some awful quarrels with the head assistant, Josiah Crabtree, and they were glad when the Rovers appeared and made it so hot for Crabtree that he had to leave. George Strong was now first assistant in place of Crabtree, and the cadets found him a teacher after their own heart.
"Hurrah! here are the Rovers!" was the cry from the campus. "Welcome back!"
"Boys, I am glad to see you again," came from Captain Putnam, as he appeared at the front door and shook hands. "From what I have heard you have had rather strenuous times during the past vacation."
"That is true, Captain," answered Dick. "I am glad to get back here."
"So am I glad," came from Tom and Sam, and all shook hands. Then the boys were told to go to the mess hall, where a hot supper awaited them. Here Mrs. Green met them with her round, ruddy and smiling face.
"It's wonderful stories I've heard of you." said the matron. "I declare, you'll have to go into a museum!"
"Not until after supper anyhow," answered ​Tom, dryly. And then everybody present laughed.
The supper over, the boys went up to their dormitory, and here as many of the cadets as could crowded in, to talk over the doings of the past vacation. Larry Colby had spent the time on the coast of Maine, and George Granbury had been to the Thousand Islands and to Montreal.
"Yes, Crabtree is in Canada," said George. "I met him in Montreal, and I can tell you, he looked seedy enough."
"Well, he deserves to be seedy," was Dick's comment. He could not forget how the former teacher had endeavored to hypnotize the widow Stanhope into marrying him, so that he could gain possession of the money she was holding in trust for Dora.
Of course all the boys wanted to know about Dan Baxter, for he had been a leading character at the Hall for many years. Some shook their heads at the idea of the former bully reforming.
"It will be the greatest surprise I ever heard of," was Larry's comment.
"He'll do it—mark my words," said Dick.
"Let us hope so," said George.
"Well, it would seem that Putnam Hall is not to suffer for the want of a bully," came from Fred. "We've got a new one here who is as bad as Dan Baxter ever was."
​"Who is he?" questioned Dick, with interest.
"A chap named Tad Sobber. He is a big, overbearing fellow with hardly any education, and he wants to rule everybody. I can't understand how Captain Putnam took him as a pupil."
"He came well recommended, that's why," answered Songbird. "But I guess the captain has found out that the recommendation was false."
"He shan't rule me," said Tom, decidedly.
"We want no bullies here," put in Dick. "The day for all such is past."
"So say we all of us!" cried several cadets.
At that moment came a knock on the door, and a tall youth, wearing an unusually high collar and very large cuffs, came in.
"Well, if it isn't our old chum, William Philander Tubbs!" cried Dick, running forward and grasping the hand of the dude student.
"Hullo, Tubbsey, old man!" said Tom, gaily. "What's the price of the best cologne now?"
"Very—ah—glad to meet you again," drawled Tubbs. "But—er—please don't call me Tubbsey, because it isn't my name, don't you know."
"To be sure, Buttertub—I mean Washtub," answered Tom. "Had your hair crimped lately?"
"Now, Tom, I never crimp my hair—it hurts the color, don't you know," explained William Philander. "I use——"
"Glue with an egg beater," finished Tom with ​a wink at his friends. "By the way, Tubblets, do you know what I heard some girls say last week? They said they thought you were a regular fashion plate."
"Now did they really?" gushed the dude, much pleased. "Who—er—said it?"
"Two girls living not many miles from here."
"You—ah—don't happen to know their names?"
"No. But I can tell you all about them."
"Ah! Then please do, Tom," said the dude eagerly. To have any young ladies think of him pleased him immensely.
"Well, these are a couple of young ladies who work in a laundry. Maybe they wash your shirts. They are colored, and——"
"Colored!" gasped the dude, and then a shout of laughter went up, in the midst of which William Philander started to leave the room.
"Don't go away mad, Billy," cried Tom. "Isn't it nice even to have two dusky damsels think of you?"
"No, it is not—it is—is horrid!" answered William Philander. "I think you are—er—poking fun at me."
"Never did such a thing in my life, my dear fellow—it's against my internal regulations. But how have you been since the week before next month?"
​"I had a delightful vacation."
"Took the girls out to ice-cream sociables and yellow teas every day you wasn't playing golf or hop-scotch, I suppose."
"I—er—took the young ladies out some—we had glorious times, don't you know. One moonlight night on Lake George I shall never forget, don't you know. We were out in a tiny rowboat and the moon was sparkling over the water, and Geraldine and I——"
"Lucky Geraldine!" sighed Tom. "And thrice lucky Philander Willander—I mean William Philander!"
"Can't you make up a poem about Geraldine, Songbird?" asked Sam.
"And don't forget to put in the moonlight," came from Dick.
"And the silvery waves, and murmuring breeze," added Fred.
"How much older than you is Geraldine, anyhow?" quizzed Tom.
"Geraldine is——"
"You haven't got to tell her age if she is over thirty, Billy," said Larry. "Her age is sacred after that, you know."
"And don't tell us even if she has false teeth," came from Sam.
"And it doesn't make any real difference whether her hair is her own or not."
​"It's hers if it is paid for," said Tom. "You don't suppose a girl that Billy would fall in love with would wear tresses that were stolen?"
"And to think she may be fat!" sighed Sam. "I hope she doesn't weigh over two hundred, Willy."
"Oh dear me!" cried the dude, in desperation. "I want you to remember——"
"That she is yours and yours only," finished Tom. "Yes, nobody shall walk in your corn patch, Bill—not over my dead body. But tell us—secretly if you must—does she wear a number eight shoe or a twelve?"
"If you don't stop your fooling——" gasped the dude.
"He is going to keep his dreadful secrets to himself," cried Tom, mournfully. "Alack! and too bad! But never mind, we'll all come to the wedding, Tubblets, and bring lemons if you say so?"
"Who said I was going to get married?"
"Is it to be a church affair or just a little private home gathering?" went on Tom, seriously. "If it's to be in a church, and you want us all for rushers—I mean ushers, why——"
"We'll all be on the job," finished Dick. "Wouldn't miss the chance for a farm with a blind mule thrown in."
​"Vots der madder mid me peing a flower girl?" asked Hans, grinning broadly.
"No, Hansy, you'll have to carry Billy's coat-tails for him," said Fred. "The latest style from London, don't you know, is to have them trailing on behind like——"
"Oh, stop! stop!" screamed William Philander, putting his hands to his ears. "You are all perfectly horrid, don't you know! I'll not remain another minute!" and he fled from the dormitory, the laughter of the crowd ringing in his ears as he departed.