"You're a beastly fellow, that I know; and so I'll go and tell Blackall
what you say."
"Go, Dickey, and say I sent you," cried Bouldon; and, undaunted by the
threat which had been uttered, he bestowed a parting kick of very
considerable force on the portion of Dickey's body then turned towards
him. Dawson ran off, vowing vengeance.
"You shouldn't have done that, Bouldon," said Buttar, who was a very
gentlemanly, refined fellow. "The actions were expressive, and could
leave no manner of doubt as to what our course of action must be; but
perhaps we might have succeeded better had we left them in doubt, and
waited till they commence operations."
"I dare say you are right, Buttar," said Bouldon; "but, in truth, all my
English spirit was roused within me at the preposterous notion of those
few big fellows proposing all of a sudden to make slaves of the rest of
the school. However, what is to be done now?"
"Let us go and talk to Bracebridge, and hear what he says," said Buttar.
They soon found Bracebridge, and told him all that had occurred. He was
just as indignant as Tom was, and he could not help laughing at the way
in which he had exhibited his feelings, though he agreed with Buttar
that a less demonstrative mode of proceeding might have been wiser. He
was decidedly of opinion that immediate steps should be taken to put
a stop to the proceedings of the big fellows, and that a
counter-resolution should be drawn up, and sent round for the signature
of those boys who had resolved not in any way to submit to fagging. He
and Buttar immediately went into the school-room, and drew up the paper
which they considered met the object. It was very temperate, and
couched in the most simple language, as such documents always should be
to be effectual. It ran, as far as I remember, much in the following
words:--
"We, the undersigned, understanding that an attempt is being made by
some of the big boys to introduce a system of fagging into the school,
bind ourselves to resist such a proceeding by every means in our power,
and under no consideration to obey any boy who may order any of us to
fag for him."
"That will do," observed Bracebridge. "The sentence might be better
rounded, but the document is short and explicit. We will see what
effect it will have. Let Dawson have a sight of it before it is
generally signed. Here, you and I will sign it, to show from whom it
emanates. They will not begin to try on their tricks upon us, I
suspect. They will not know who else has signed it; and we will put the
little fellows up how to act, as circumstances may show us to be most
advisable."
"Capital!" exclaimed Buttar, affixing his signature in a clear bold hand
to the document. "Would it not be better to tell Lemon what we have
done?"
"I think not," said Ernest. "The resolution emanates from us, so let us
carry it out. There is nothing like independence and freedom of action
to ensure success. Lemon will not wish to make anybody fag for him; but
being a big fellow, he may not see the matter in the same light we do.
If we bravely resist the attempt, he is much more likely to assist us in
crushing it at the end, than if we were to go whining to him now for aid
and advice."
Buttar agreed in this point also with Ernest, and undertook to let
Dawson immediately have a look at the document. Dawson said he should
like to show it to some of the big fellows.
"Catch a weasel asleep, and draw his teeth," answered Buttar. "No, no,
Dickey! You may take a copy of it in pencil, and show it to anybody you
like. You may say also, that all the school, with the exception of a
few miserable sneaks, like some who shall be nameless, will sign it and
stick by it. And now, just go and tell the fellows what you have seen."
Off went Dawson with the copy of the protest to his masters. They
laughed scornfully.
"That upstart, conceited young monkey, Bracebridge, is at the bottom of
all mischief," observed Blackall; and the opinion was echoed by two or
three other fellows.
"I'll tell you what," said Blackall; "the only way will be to begin
fagging at once, and to crush this proposed rebellion in the bud. We
must parcel out the boys of the lower classes, so that each of us may
have four or five fags a-piece. You see we have already each of us got
a willing fag. They shall be head fags, and assist to keep the rest in
order. We'll tell them that, and then they will help us to bring the
rest under subjection."
Blackall's plan was willingly assented to by the rest of the big boys
who had entered into this conspiracy against the liberties of their
younger schoolfellows; and minor details being arranged, they considered
everything ripe for carrying out their plans. All this time neither the
Doctor nor masters suspected that anything out of the way was taking
place. During the school hours matters went on in their ordinary
routine. Some of the boys, who had been thinking over what was to be
done, were less attentive than usual, and had more faults in their
exercises. Games were got up and carried on by the boys with their
accustomed spirit. Hockey and football had now come in. The Doctor did
not prohibit any games, but he insisted that all should be played with
good temper; and a few he only allowed to be played in the presence of a
master. Hockey was one of these, and consequently it was not often
played, except when a large number could join in it together. A great
game of hockey was to be played one Saturday afternoon in November.
Blackall came forward as the chief on one side. He called over the
names of a number of boys, but only a few of the younger ones joined
him. He remarked that they were entirely Dawson's companions. Another
big fellow stood up to lead on the opposite side, but so few consented
to play that he was obliged to throw up his leadership. Then
Bracebridge, urged by several standing round him, stepped forward, and
he instantly had forty or fifty boys ranged under him. Those who had
previously ranged themselves under the other big fellow, Haddon, went
over to Blackall.
The sides were now more equal, but still Blackall had not enough on his
side. He cried out for followers, but still no one would go over to
him. Bracebridge had at last to send off some of his side to make both
parties equal. There were thus about forty on each side. Everybody
knows what a hockey-stick is like. It is a tough fellow, made of oak or
crab-apple tree, and turned up at the end in a crook, flattened somewhat
at the convex side. It is a formidable weapon, and it is very
disagreeable to receive a blow from it on the shins. In some places a
cork bung is used, but I have always seen and played with a light ball
made on purpose, and covered with leather. We were very particular at
Grafton Hall about our hockey balls. Though late in the year, the
weather was fine, so we played in the cricket-field. It was a fine wide
extent. A line drawn twenty yards in advance of the hedge on either
side formed the respective boundaries. It was nearly due north and
south. Ernest's party were on the north side, and their goal
consequently on the south side of the field. Bracebridge and Blackall
tossed up to settle which side was to begin. "Heads!" cried Ernest.
The shilling came down with the head up. It was considered low by the
big boys to employ halfpence on such occasions. Blackall looked daggers
at his opponent. Bracebridge took the ball, and placed it about a third
of the distance away from his line. His side were arranged behind and
on either hand of him. He planted his feet firmly, and lifting his
stick above his head, cried "Play!" and, looking first at the point to
which he intended to send it, gave a steady blow to the ball. Blackall
and his side watched its approach, and rushed forward "to take it up,"
or, in other words, to impede its progress, and to send it back in the
direction whence it had come. They were boldly met by Ernest's party,
who once more "took up" the ball and drove it energetically back.
All Ernest's party were young boys. Few were more than a year or two
older than he was, and scarcely any were taller or more active; indeed,
he was the acknowledged best player of his set. On Blackall's side, on
the contrary, were a number of big fellows, and all those who had
undertaken to act as fags, as well as other hangers-on and chums of the
big fellows, patronised especially by them because they were well
supplied by injudicious friends at home with hampers of cakes and game,
and hams and tongues. I've heard people say, "I'll send poor Tom a
basket of good things, because it will enable him to gain the friendship
of some of the bigger boys." Now, I will tell those silly friends that
it will do no such thing. It will make some of the worst boys make up
to him as long as his grub lasts, or while they think that he is likely
to get any more; but they will do him much more harm than good, and
their friendship he will not get. No; send a boy to school fitted as
much as he can be, and let him win friends and work his way onward by
his own intrinsic merits; but never let him think of buying favour with
gifts of any sort. But we are in the middle of a game of hockey. It
was, however, necessary to explain the class of boys who were ranged on
either side. Those hockey-sticks looked formidable weapons as they were
flourished about in the hands of the opposing parties. Again Blackall's
party met the ball; a dozen hockey-sticks were at it, and one boy,
calling off the others, struck it so clear a blow that he nearly sent it
up to the goal across Ernest's line. However, he, Buttar, Bouldon, and
some other of the most fearless and active boys rushed at it with their
sticks, regardless of all the blows aimed at them by their opponents,
and drove it back again into the middle of the ground. Then on they
flew to drive it back still farther. Both parties met in the centre.
There was a fierce tussle. The hockey-sticks kept striking each other,
but none struck the ball. Blackall had gone farther back to catch the
ball, should it be driven past the front rank of his party. Ernest had
retired behind his friends for the same purpose. His eye, however,
never left the ball. He saw a stick uplifted which he thought would
strike it. So it did, and the ball came flying towards him. His quick
eye saw it coming, and with unerring aim he struck it over the heads of
both parties, who, not knowing what had become of it, broke asunder, and
enabled him to pass between them. He reached the neighbourhood of the
ball at the same moment that Blackall, having seen it coming, got close
up to it. They eyed the ball, and they eyed each other for some
moments; their eyes flashed fire.
"Out of my way, you rebellious young scamp!" shouted Blackall, irritated
by what he considered Ernest's daring coolness. Ernest did not even
look at him, but threw himself into a position to strike the ball. His
eye was at the same time on Blackall's stick. He saw him lift it to
strike, not the ball, but him. He had not learned the use of the
single-stick for nothing, and throwing himself back, he warded off the
blow, and then, quick as lightning, struck the ball, and sent it past
his cowardly opponent. Blackall, not in the least ashamed of himself,
attempted to repeat the blow while Ernest was unable to defend himself;
but before his stick descended another actor had come into the field.
It was Ellis, who had been close at hand, and now springing forward, he
interposed his own stick, and saved his friend from the effects of the
blow, drawing, of course, all Blackall's rage upon himself. Had any
body seen his countenance, they could not have failed to observe the
smile of satisfaction which lighted it up as Blackall showered heaps of
virulent abuse on his head.
"Go on, I don't fear you; remember that," said Ellis quietly; and then
hurried on, in the hopes of assisting Ernest to drive the ball on to the
goal. The keen eye of Monsieur Malin, who was the master on duty on
that afternoon, had observed this little piece of by-play. He noted it,
but said nothing at the time. It required all Ernest's activity and the
energetic support of his party to make head against the big, strong
fellows of the opposite side. When he had very nearly driven the ball
home to the goal, several of them threw themselves before him, and drove
it some way back again; but Buttar, Bouldon, Gregson, and some others
had now come up, and even little Eden rushed heroically in to stop its
course and to drive it back, so that Ernest might once more get it
within the power of his unerring stick. The big fellows of Blackall's
party had rushed on, separating widely, and not observing, or rather
regarding, little Eden, whom had they seen they would not have supposed
daring enough to attempt to hit the ball. He did not hit it very far,
certainly; but yet his stroke was one of the most important which had
been given, for it enabled Tom Bouldon to send it up very nearly to the
goal. Ernest saw it coming. He sprang forward; and almost before it
had stopped, his stick had caught it and sent it triumphantly over the
line. The big fellows were astonished when they saw how and by whom
they had been defeated. Blackall especially was enraged.
"That young scamp, Bouldon, and that little shrimp, Eden, ought not to
be allowed to play. There is no guarding against their sneaking,
underhand ways," he observed. I believe, indeed, he made use of still
more opprobrious epithets, with which I do not wish to defile my pages.
Even some of his own side laughed at his anger, but still no one thought
of rebuking him.
"Never mind, we'll beat them well the next turn," answered Rodwell, a
big, good-natured fellow, on his side. "Now, young Bracebridge, you,
sir, look out for yourself. We are not going to let you run over the
course in this way again."
"Oh, we are not afraid of you; we shall do our best to win again, at all
events," said Ernest, taking up the ball, and walking off with it to his
side of the ground. "Now look out, old fellows."
"What's that the impudent young scamp says?" exclaimed Blackall. "We'll
pay him and his sneaking set off before long, so let him look out."
Ernest heard what was said, but took no notice of the remark. He
appeared to be entirely absorbed in considering in what direction he
should drive the ball. He eyed the position of the various players,
both on the other side and on his own. He called Bouldon up to him, and
whispered various directions to him. Bouldon ran off, and immediately
several of his side changed their places.
"Ah! that boy was born to become a general," observed Monsieur Malin,
who was looking on at the game with deep interest.
The opposite side were rather astonished. They were not accustomed to
so systematic a way of playing, still less to see directions issued by
one boy so implicitly obeyed by others. They could not make it out.
Ernest lifted up his stick, and struck the ball. Off it flew in a
direction away from all the best players on the opposite side, but some
of the most active of his party ran on, and hitting it before them, one
after the other, drove it right through the ranks of their opponents.
So quickly did one striker succeed the other, that none of Blackall's
boys could get a stroke. He ran to the rescue, but this was one of the
many occasions, as he frequently found to his cost, when mere animal
strength could avail but little. The ball was carried on, struck
rapidly past him, followed up by relays of Ernest's friends, and finally
sent by Buttar, accompanied by a loud cheer from all his side, over the
boundary. Such a victory could not have been expected under ordinary
circumstances, had even the big boys been the conquerors, but the latter
were doubly astounded, till Rodwell sang out--
"Bravo, young Bracebridge! You have had a lucky chance, but we'll lick
you soundly next time, so look out."
"Chance! yes, it was only chance," repeated Blackall, glad to find a
plausible excuse for his defeat. A third round was to be played, but
the younger party were so cocky that they proposed having four rounds.
To this, of course, the others were too glad to consent, under the
belief that they could at all events make it a drawn battle; while
Ernest's friends gloried in the hopes of beating their big opponents
three to one.
Blackall having observed that Ernest placed his men according to a
certain plan, thought he would do the same. He, therefore, with not a
small amount of pretentious formality, ordered the boys on his side to
look out in different directions, and to follow a certain course. Some
went where they were told, but others proceeded to where they themselves
considered that they should be better placed, and instead of obeying the
orders of their leader, acted according to their own judgment, which, to
do them justice, was fully as good as that of Blackall. Bracebridge
watched the proceedings of his opponents, and smiled as he pointed them
out to Buttar. He very soon made his own arrangements. Blackall
thought that he was going to act precisely as he had done in the
previous game. He had no such intentions. Handing the ball to Bouldon,
he told him to strike it up, while he, Buttar, Ellis, Gregson, and
several others went scattering up before him. The big fellows looked at
him, and gathered thickly in his front. They took no notice of Ellis,
who was away to the right. Bouldon looked towards Bracebridge; then,
turning suddenly, struck the ball in the direction of Ellis, who
followed it up ably as it came by him, and turned it towards Buttar.
Buttar had in the meantime broken through the big fellows and though
several of them, hurrying on, tried by reiterated blows to stop it, he
carried it once more successfully up to the goal. Blackall and some of
his party literally stamped with rage at the idea of being beaten three
times running by the younger boys, "At all events, that puppy
Bracebridge had nothing to do with the affair this time," he exclaimed,
showing the feeling which animated him.
Ernest's party cheered again and again--they could not help it. Both
sides agreed to play out the fourth game. Ernest managed his friends
equally well as at first, but his opponents were more alive to his
tactics. The battle was very hotly contested; several times he got the
ball nearly to the goal, and it was again driven back. This game had
already taken as long to play as the other three--defeat would be almost
as honourable to the younger party as victory--they kept up the game by
sheer activity and good play; not that the bigger boys played ill, but
they wanted combination and a good leader. Blackall had now completely
lost his head and his temper. Once or twice when Bracebridge came near
he felt very much inclined to strike him, but Ernest watched his eye,
and was very quickly out of his way. At last, Blackall found himself
with the ball directly before him; he lifted up his stick, expecting to
strike it right ahead up to the goal. He looked at the point before him
to which he intended to send the ball, and he looked at his stick, and
he looked at the ball, but he did not look on one side--had he done so,
he would have perceived Bracebridge springing along with his stick ready
to strike. Strike he did too, and away flew the ball out of Blackall's
very clutches. Blackall's rage now burst forth--twice he struck Ernest
across the shins, and though the latter managed to break the force of
the blows, he was much hurt. Then the bully lifted up his stick and
struck Ernest on the arm more than once. He was about to repeat the
blow on his victim's head, and the effect would have been very serious,
when he felt his own ears pulled lustily.
"Ah, you big coward--is dat de vay you play your games? I'm ashamed dat
any boy at de school vare I teach should behave so," exclaimed the voice
of Monsieur Malin. "If I do not take you instantly before de Doctor it
is because it is too bad to tell him of, so I will pull your ears
myself. Bah!"
Right heartily did the good-natured French master tug away at the
bully's ears till they were red to the very roots. He knew that he
himself was doing what in spirit was prohibited, for no master was
allowed to strike or punish a boy. He might have argued that pulling
the ears was not striking, and that punishing meant flogging or caning.
Blackall on another occasion might have resisted, but now he felt that
he had been guilty of so cowardly an action that no one would support
him, so he submitted tamely to the infliction.
"Go, get out of de ground, you shall not play--you are not worthy of
it," continued the French master, pulling him away by the
before-spoken-of appendages of his head.
Meantime the games went on. Ernest, though much hurt, tried to exhibit
no symptoms of his suffering. He and his friends strove hard, but the
big fellows resolved not to lose this last game as they had done the
others, and finally by strenuous exertions drove the ball up to the
goal. Never was a game at hockey at our school more hotly contested. A
great deal came out of it.