A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School

396Peace had deserted Devon. Although not in the look of the campus and village; they retainedmuch of their dreaming summer calm. Fall had barely touched the full splendor of the trees,and during the height of the day the sun briefly regained its summertime power. In the air therewas only an edge of coolness to imply the coming winter.But all had been caught up, like the first fallen leaves, by a new and energetic wind. TheSummer Session—a few dozen boys being force-fed education, a stopgap while most of themasters were away and most of the traditions stored against sultriness—the Summer Sessionwas over. It had been the school's first,' but this was its one hundred and sixty-third WinterSession, and the forces reassembled for it scattered the easygoing summer spirit like so manyfallen leaves.The masters were in their places for the first Chapel, seated in stalls in front of and at rightangles to us, suggesting by their worn expressions and careless postures that they had neverbeen away at all.In an apse of the church sat their wives and children, the objects during the tedious wintermonths of our ceaseless, ritual speculation (Why did he ever marry her? What in the worldever made her marry him? How could the two of them ever have produced those littlemonsters?). The masters favored seersucker on this mild first day the wives broke out theirhats. Five of the younger teachers were missing gone into the war. Mr Pike had come in hisNaval ensigns uniform; some reflex must have survived Midshipman's School and brought himback to Devon for the day His face was as mild and hopeless as ever; mooning above thesnappy, rigid blouse, it gave him the air of an impostor.Continuity was the keynote. The same hymns were played the same sermon given, the sameannouncements made. There was one surprise; maids had disappeared "for the Duration," anew phase then. But continuity was stressed, not beginning again but continuing the educationof young men according to the unbroken traditions of Devon.I knew, perhaps I alone knew, that this was false. Devon had slipper' through their fingersduring the warm overlooked months. The tradition's had been broken, the standards let down,all rules forgotten. In those bright days of truancy we had never thought of What We OwedDevon, as the sermon this opening day exhorted us to do. We had thought of ourselves, of whatDevon owed us, and we had taken all of that and much more Today's hymn was Dear Lord andFather of Mankind Forgive Our Foolish Ways; we had never heard that during the summereither. Ours had been a wayward gypsy music, leading us down all kinds of foolish gypsyways, unforgiven. I was glad of it, I had almost caught the rhythm of it, the dancing, clickingjangle of it during the summer.