THE PENFOLD TABLET FUND
The Easter term had been one of unadulterated discomfort for Jim Cotton.
He had felt the loss of Gus's helping hand terribly, and he had not yet
found another ass to "devil" for him in the way of classics or
mathematics. Philips, a former understudy to Gus, was called upon, but
with unsatisfactory results, and Cotton, _mirabile dictu_, was compelled
in sheer desperation to try to do his own work. Frankly, the Fifth of
St. Amory's was beyond Jim's very small attainments, classical or
otherwise. He had been hoisted up to that serene height by no means
_honoris causa_, but _aetatis causa_. Jim was verging on six feet, and
he filled his clothes very well into the bargain, and though his
scholarship was strictly junior school, the spectacle of Jim in Fourth
Form Etons would have been too entrancing a sight for daily
contemplation. Hence he had got his remove. Thrown over by Gus, unable
to discover a second jackal for the term so far, he had been left to the
tender mercy of Corker, Merishall and Co., and Jim was inclined to think
that they showed no quarter to a fallen foe. Corker had been distilled
venom on the particular morning with which this chapter deals on the
subject of Jim's Greek. Herodotus, as translated by Jim with the help of
a well-thumbed Bohn's crib, had emerged as a most unalluring mess of
pottage, and Dr. Moore had picked out Bohn's plums from Jim's paste with
unerring accuracy. Whilst Cotton was wishing the roof would fall down on
Corker's head and kill him, the other fellows in the Fifth were enjoying
the fun. Gus Todd, though, felt for his old friend more than a touch of
pity, and when old Corker left Jim alone finally, Gus very cleverly kept
his attention away from Jim's quarter. When Corker finally drew his toga
around him and hurried out, Jim Cotton gathered together his own books
and lounged heavily into the street, sick of school, books, Corker, and
hating Gus with a mighty sullen hate. For Jim had remarked Gus's
sprightliness in the Greek ordeal, but was not clever enough to see that
Gus's performance had been only for old friendship's sake. Jim, however,
put down Todd's device as mere "side," "show-off," "toadyism," and other
choice things, all trotted out specially for his eyes. When he reached
his room he flung his Herodotus into the nearest chair, and himself into
the most comfortable one, and then beat a vicious serenade on his
firegrate with the poker until dinner time.
In the evening, while Jim was moodily planted before a small pile of
books, he received a visitor, no less a personage than Philips, Jim's
occasional hack.
"Well," said Jim, surlily, "what do you want?"
"I'll tell you in a minute, old boy. Can I have a chair?"
"Can't you see I'm busy?" said Cotton, unamiably.
"You look like it, more or less, certainly."
"Well, I've no time for any oratory to-night, Philips, and that is all
about it."
"I'll give you a leg-up for Merishall in the morning if you're decently
civil."
"All right, then," said Jim, thawing instantly. "What's the matter?"
"Ever heard of Penfold?"
"No; what was the animal?"
"Well, he was the brightest and most particular star that Taylor ever
had in his house; that is, until you pitched your tent among us."
"Don't rot, Philips. What has the Penfold done?"
"Made a chemical discovery which stamps him as one of the first
half-dozen chemists in the world."
"Oh," said Jim, wearily; "most interestin', very."
"Here only ten years ago, and, 'pon honour, this was his very den."
"Have noticed the place to be stuffy," said Jim, with no enthusiasm,
"and now that is explained. Suppose he lived with his nose in books and
test-tubes?"
"And," said Philips, ignoring Jim's heavy wit, "the Fifth and Sixth Form
fellows in Taylor's think we ought to take notice of it somehow."
"Now, I wouldn't," said Cotton, critically; "I'd keep a thing like that
dark."
"You heathen!"
"If he'd pulled stroke at Cambridge, or anything like that----"
"We thought a tablet on the wall, or something of that sort, would meet
the case. Corker's dining-hall is lined with 'em."
"Get to the point," said Jim, grimly.
"A sub. of five shillings among seniors, and half a crown among the
kids, would meet the case, I think."
"And did you think I'd spring a crown for a marble tablet to a mug like
Penfold?"
"Rather," said Philips.
"Well," said Jim, "life would be worth living here if it weren't for the
unearthly smugging, but as it is St. Amory's is about as lively as a
workhouse. I'm not forking out on this occasion. Taylor's smugs must do
all that is necessary to be done."
"Well," said Philips, "all the other fellows have given in their names,
bar you and Todd."
"Oh!" said Jim, with sudden interest, "you've asked Todd, have you?"
"Of course. Gus seemed rather waxy that he should be called upon. One
might almost fancy he hadn't got the five shillings."
"Todd evidently is a miserable miser," said Jim, with a bitter smile at
the thought of Gus's insolvent condition. "He isn't the same fellow he
used to be."
"Jove, no!" said Philips; "he's come on no end this term. He's an
improvement on the old Gus."
"Yes," said Jim, angrily; "the beaks have got him into their nets. But
he ought to subscribe to the Penfold, when he's the biggest smug in
Taylor's."
"And you ought too, Jim, since you've the biggest money-bags."
"All right," said Jim, "I'll subscribe. 'Twill look better if we all
subscribe."
"You're a funny ass, Cotton. I thought I was going to draw you blank.
What's the reason for your sudden change of mind?"
"I don't want to be bracketed equal with Toddy."
"That's settled, then," said Philips, who was puzzled at Jim's sudden
change of front. "And now let's see to Merishall's work for the
morning."
The subscriptions for a tablet in the great Penfold's honour were not
hard to obtain, the upper form fellows in Taylor's dunning the rest of
the house without mercy, and, to the great wonder of all, the foremost
of the duns was James Cotton, Esq. The way he squeezed half-crowns out
of the fags was reckoned little short of marvellous, and before the week
was out every Taylor fellow had subscribed bar Gus. Jim's exertions were
rewarded by the office of secretary to the Penfold Fund.
"We'll get a house list, Philips, and pin up a proper subscription list
on the notice-board. The thing will look more ship-shape then. By the
way, what was it the Penfold did? Is he dead?"
"You are a funny fellow, Cotton. Here you are sweating the half-crowns
out of the fags and you don't know why you're doing it."
"That is just what I do know," said Jim, smiling serenely.
When the list was pinned up on the board, and opposite each fellow's
name appeared the half-crown or crown he had contributed, it made a
brave show. Towards the end of the list opposite the name of Todd,
A.V.R., there had occurred a dismal blank thoughtfully filled by
secretary Cotton with a couple of beautifully even lines ruled in
staring red ink. This vivid dash of colour on the white paper gave poor
Gus quite an unsolicited advertisement, and since none of the other
fellows knew of Gus's circumstances, it practically put him in the
pillory as a tight-fisted old screw. This result was exactly what Jim
Cotton had in his mind when he fell in with the tablet scheme so
enthusiastically. Pretty mean, wasn't it?
When Gus saw the staring red abomination for the first time it made him
feel that he would like to pour a little boiling oil over the secretary
of the fund, for to a fellow of Gus's temperament the chaffing remarks
of his acquaintances and the knowing looks of the juniors made him
shiver with righteous anger. He did not like being pilloried. He had
desperate thoughts of going and publicly kicking Cotton, but he
remembered, fortunately, that Jim would probably only make one mouthful
of him. But he paced his room angrily, and except that he really meant
to keep himself to his resolution of honourable poverty to the term's
end he would have written home. Not to do so cost him a struggle.
There was some one else who eyed this plain manifesto of Gus's position
with anger, and that was the Rev. E. Taylor himself. The house-master
had not been a house-master for years for nothing, and he guessed pretty
shrewdly that some one was writing off a debt with interest against Gus.
The house-master made a still shrewder guess as to who this might be,
for he had watched the dissolution of the partnership of Cotton and Todd
with great interest.
Thus it was that Philips was called into Taylor's room for a quiet
little chat on house matters. "Your idea of a memento to Penfold was an
excellent one, Philips, and the house seems to have taken it up very
heartily."
"Oh yes!" said Philips, naïvely. "The fellows have taken any amount of
interest, especially Cotton."
"Cotton's is rather a case of Saul among the prophets, isn't it,
Philips?"
"This sort of thing didn't quite seem his line before, sir."
"No; I never thought so myself; but it is very pleasant to make a
mistake, too. I see Todd, who is the best chemist in the house, does not
subscribe at all."
"Most of the fellows thought it rather strange."
"And said so, no doubt?" said the master, looking abstractedly at his
finger-nails.
"H'm!" said Philips, feeling uncomfortable at this thrust. "They may
have."
"You see, Philips," said Taylor, gently, "there ought to have been no
quizzing of Todd, for a contribution to a matter like this ought to be
entirely voluntary--most emphatically so, I think. And if Todd does not
see his way to subscribe--and he is the sole judge--there ought to be no
remarks whatever."
"I see, sir," said Philips, dubiously.
"I was much annoyed to see that Todd's name has been prominently before
the house for the last day or so."
"You mean on the notice-board, sir?"
"Yes; I can quite see why it is. The honorary secretary has not had much
experience in this clerical work before, so he has fallen into a great
mistake. In fact," said the house-master, bluntly, "the secretary's
taste is not to be depended on."
"I don't think Cotton meant anything----" began Philips.
"Well, perhaps not," said the Rev. E. Taylor, doubtfully; "but, in any
case, will you take down the present list, and draw up a fresh one--if
you think one at all necessary--with only the names of subscribers upon
it? A house list should not have been used at all. Please tell Cotton I
said so, and I hope he will see the fairness of it."
Philips took down the offending list, and told Cotton the house-master's
opinions. Jim Cotton had not very quick feelings, but contempt can
pierce the shell of a tortoise, and as Philips innocently retailed the
message, the secretary of the Penfold Tablet Fund knew there was one man
who held him a cad.