Wake, of the Fifth, was one of those restless, vivacious spirits who,
with no spare time on their hands, contrive to accomplish as much as any
ordinary half-dozen people put together. He formed part of the much-
despised band of fellows in his form contemptuously termed "muggers."
In other words, he read hard, and took no part in the desultory
amusements which consumed the odd moments of so many in the house. And
yet he was an excellent cricketer and runner, as the school was bound to
acknowledge whenever it called out its champions to do battle for it in
the playing-fields.
More than that, if anyone wanted anything doing in the way of literary
sport--in the concoction of a squib or the sketching of a caricature--
Wake was always ready to take the work upon himself, and let who liked
take the credit. He had a mania for verses and epigrams; he was reputed
a bit of a conjuror, and no one ever brought a new puzzle to Grandcourt
which Wake, of Railsford's, could not, sooner or later, find out.
Among other occupations, Wake had for some time past acted as secretary
for the House Discussion Society--an old institution which for years had
droned along to the well-known tunes--"That Wellington was a greater man
than Napoleon," "That Shakespeare was a greater poet than Homer," "That
women's rights are not desirable," "That the execution of Charles the
First was unjustifiable," etcetera, etcetera. But when, six months ago,
Trill, of the Sixth, the old secretary, left Grandcourt, and Wake, at
the solicitation of the prefects (who lacked the energy to undertake the
work themselves), consented to act as secretary, the society entered
upon a new career. The new secretary alarmed his patrons by his
versatility and energy. The old humdrum questions vanished almost
completely from the programme, and were replaced by such interesting
conundrums as "Is life worth living?" "Ought the _Daily News_ to be
taken in at the school library?" "What is a lie?" and so on. Beyond
that, he boldly appropriated evenings for other purposes than the
traditional debate. On one occasion he organised a highly successful
reading of _Coriolanus_, in which the juniors, to their vast delight,
were admitted to shout as citizens. Another evening was given to
impromptu speeches, every member who volunteered being called upon to
draw a subject out of a hat and make a speech upon it there and then.
And more than once the order of the day was readings and recitations, in
which the younger members were specially encouraged to take part, and
stood up gallantly to be shot at by their critical seniors.
Whatever might be said of this novel departure from old tradition, no
one could deny that the Discussion Society had looked up wonderfully
during the last six months. The forum was generally crowded, and
everyone, from prefect to Baby, took more or less interest in the
proceedings. No one, after the first few meetings, questioned Wake's
liberty to arrange what programme he liked, and the house was generally
kept in a pleasant flutter of curiosity as to what the volatile
secretary would be up to next.
The "Central Criminal Court" was his latest invention, and it need
scarcely be said the idea, at the present juncture, was so startling
that a quarter of an hour before the hour of meeting the forum was
packed to its fullest extent, and it was even rumoured that Mr
Railsford had promised to look in during the evening. It was evident
directly to the juniors that the proceedings had been carefully thought
out and settled by the secretary, in consultation with some of the wise
heads of the house. The room was arranged in close imitation of a court
of justice. The bench was a chair raised on two forms at one end; the
witness-box and the dock were raised spaces railed off by cord from the
rest of the court. Rows of desks represented the seats of the counsel,
and two long forms, slightly elevated above the level of the floor, were
reserved for the accommodation of the jury. The general public and
witnesses-in-waiting were relegated to the rear of the court.
The question was, as everyone entered, Who is who? Who is to be the
judge, and who is to be the prisoner, and who are to be the counsel?
This natural inquiry was answered after the usual style of the
enterprising secretary. Every one on entering was asked to draw out of
a hat a folded slip of paper, which assigned to him the part he was to
play, the only parts reserved from the lot being that of judge, which of
course was to be filled by Ainger, and that of senior counsels for the
prosecution and defence, which were undertaken respectively by Barnworth
and Felgate. It was suspected later on that a few of the other parts
were also prearranged, but no one could be quite sure of this.
"What are you?" said Dig, pulling a long face over his piece of paper.
"I'm junior counsel for the defence," said Arthur proudly. "What are
you?"
"A wretched witness," said the baronet.
"What a spree! Won't I pull you inside out when I get you in the box,
my boy!"