Macdonald Hall #3: Beware the Fish!

Much ado about spinach

Few people would argue that Macdonald Hall, located east of Toronto just off Highway 48, is not the best boarding school for boys in Canada. Even the most severe critics of modern education point to the ivy-covered walls of the Hall as a symbol of the happy blend of tradition, enlightened administration and progressive educational policies that have resulted in a rare combination of pleased parents and contented students.

Why, then, are rumblings echoing from the dining hall?

* * *

"Yes! Okay! So we need another vegetable! But why spinach?" exclaimed Boots O'Neal in disgust.

"Stewed green leaves," agreed Bruno Walton, pushing the spinach as far from the rest of his dinner as he could without actually toppling it off his plate onto the tray. "Last week they started serving raisins and figs instead of cake and ice cream. Now it's spinach instead of french fries. If this keeps up I'll be the healthiest person ever to starve to death at this school. Yeccch!"

The other boys at the dining hall table murmured their agreement.

"I told you before," said Larry Wilson, the Headmaster's office messenger, "it's the dietician. I heard Mr. Sturgeon tell her to cut costs but keep the nutrition the same."

"They're trying to kill us all!" moaned big Wilbur Hackenschleimer, who was used to having triple helpings of everything.

"You cannot possibly die," put in studious Elmer Drimsdale, "on this diet. It is nutritionally and chemically balanced." He methodically deposited some spinach into his mouth.

"You can die if you don't eat it," retorted Bruno. "We're starving! This isn't food!"

"Seems to me Macdonald Hall is doing a lot of cost-cutting lately," complained Boots. "Yesterday someone kicked the soccer ball out onto the highway and it got run over by a truck. End of ball, end of game. Can you imagine a school this size owning only one soccer ball?"

"And they've stopped our evening snack," added Wilbur miserably.

"I never considered it," said Elmer thoughtfully, "but the science laboratory is very low on materials and they're not being replenished. The big microscope has been broken for a week, but Mr. Hubert has made no move to have it repaired."

"No cereal at bedtime," mourned Wilbur.

"The office is crazy for saving paper," added Larry. "And Mr. Sturgeon is using straight pins instead of paper clips and staples."

"At least The Fish gets to eat food," said Wilbur sadly. "I'll bet Mrs. Sturgeon doesn't cook garbage like this for him."

"And the thermostats are nailed at twenty in the dormitories," Boots pointed out. "Bruno and I almost froze to death last night."

"The food used to be so good here," Wilbur reminisced.

Suddenly Bruno pounded his fist onto the table. The others jumped and turned their eyes towards him.

"Something's wrong," he declared. "The Hall was never like this before. The Fish always used to stand up for us and get us the things we needed. Why isn't he doing it now?"

Nobody answered.

"Larry," Bruno went on, a determined gleam in his eyes, "when you're on duty around the office, keep on the lookout. If we can find out why this is happening, we can do something about it."

"You've got it," agreed Larry. "I'll try."

* * *

"Mildred," Mr. Sturgeon, Headmaster of Macdonald Hall, announced to his wife, "I see no alternative. I am going to resign."