[Illustration: 1. It was the beginning of the Club season. "I shall be
glad to see all the boys again after all these weeks!" murmured Clubber,
as Mrs. C. packed him up.]
[Illustration: 2. "Ah! _How_ are you, _dear_ old boy?" shouted the
Clubites, hysterical with affectionate yearning.]
[Illustration: 3. "Magnificent reciter Foodle is, to be sure!" they
murmured, in an ecstatic dream of enthusiasm. "Brav O! Splendid, dear
old boy!!"]
[Illustration: 4. And when they parted at the end of the evening, they
breathed fervently, "Good night, old fellow--bless you!" * * * * *]
[Illustration: 5. It was the middle of the Club season. "Hum, Foodle's
recitations are always so long-winded. Great mistake," they muttered to
themselves. "And the other fellows are a bit slow, after all."]
[Illustration: 6. And when they parted at the end of the evening, they
just nodded. * * *]
[Illustration: 7. It was the end of the Club season. "Well, if you want
_my_ opinion," said Clubber, "that Foodle's a beastly poor reciter." "I
_don't_ want your opinion; nobody does," said Rubber. "But you happen to
be right for once."]
[Illustration: 8. "_I'm_ not going to recite to you idiots," said
Foodle. "It's a waste of breath." "Much relieved to hear it!" said
Groodle.]
[Illustration: 9. "I'm precious glad to get away from that maddening set
of chuckle-headed bores for a few weeks!" said Clubber, as Mrs. C.
unpacked him.]