6. That the subscription be two shillings a term, payable in advance.
(Jones.)
Warminster was anxious for consistency's sake to add the words "and are"
after "be," but was overruled.
After which we honourably drew lots for the various posts of emolument
and honour in connection with the club.
To my surprise I was drawn for president. At first I was disposed to
disclaim the honour on account of my youth and inexperience. But my
fellow-Philosophers assured me that was no excuse, and that my name
would undoubtedly "draw." I did not exactly see how, but they were
probably better judges than I; and perhaps as an exhib--
No, I was bound to keep that dark. At any rate, it would be a nice
thing to be able to write home to my mother, that on the day of my
arrival I had been appointed president of the Philosophical Conversation
Club, with a right to add the initials P.L.H.C.C. after my name. It
sounded well, and would give me a better footing in Low Heath than my
tan boots.
Langrish was drawn for treasurer, and Purkis for secretary; while, to
obviate any cause for jealousy, Trimble was selected as auditor,
Warminster as librarian, and Coxhead as registrar.
A levy of subscriptions was made forthwith by the treasurer, and the
secretary was ordered to expend part of the amount in a handbill setting
forth the object and _personnel_ of the society, for distribution
through the school. The auditor undertook to check the printer's bill,
the librarian to keep a copy of the document among the archives of the
club, and the registrar to prepare a book for entering the names of the
new members. Altogether it was a most businesslike proceeding, and one
which reflected, as it seemed to me, great credit on the young life of
Low Heath.
After this, a peremptory summons from the bell dismissed us
precipitately to bed. I had the indignity of being conducted to my
cubicle by Mrs Smiley, who had the bad taste to adjure me in the
hearing of my comrades to behave myself like a good boy and go to sleep
directly the lights were out. This was not altogether easy, for my
cubicle happened to be between those of Trimble and Langrish, and the
partitions were not particularly high. I was, indeed, allowed to
undress and say my prayers without interference, which was more than I
had hoped for. But no sooner was I in bed, and lights out, than I was
favoured with all sorts of missiles pitched over the partitions on
either side with extraordinary accuracy. A book from Langrish hit me on
the ear, and a wet sponge from Trimble moistened my cheek. And when I
sought shelter under the sheets, the butt-end of a fishing-rod in the
ribs drew me from my hiding-place, and a clever cast with a hooked pin
by Langrish relieved me of my outer covering altogether. The footsteps
of the monitor on duty deprived me of the privilege of making an audible
protest. All I could do was to send Trimble's sponge quietly over to
Langrish, and Langrish's book across to Trimble, and, as well as I was
able, recover my abstracted sheet with the aid of the rod. It took a
long time, and laid me open to dire penalties for disturbing the public
peace. But it had to be done, and fortunately for me a row at the other
end of the room called the monitor away in the nick of time.
When he returned, all was still, and I was dreaming that Mr Evans was
selling a pair of second-hand six-buttoned lavender gloves to my mother
in the hall of Mr Sharpe's house.