The misgivings of the Classics were justified. The Moderns did not
accept their victory at Elections with a meekness which augured harmony
for the coming half.
On the contrary, they executed that difficult acrobatic feat known as
going off their heads, with jubilation.
For many terms they had groaned under a sense of inferiority, partly
imagined but partly well founded, in their relations with the rival
side. The Classics had given themselves airs, and, what was worse,
proved their right to give them. In its early days the Modern side was
not "in it" at Fellsgarth. Its few members were taught to look upon
themselves as altogether a lower order of creation than the pupils of
the old foundation, and had accepted the position with due humility.
Then certain rebellious spirits had arisen, who dared to ask why their
side wasn't as good as any other? The answer was crushing. "What can
you do? Only French, and book-keeping and `stinks'"--(the strictly
Classical nickname for chemistry). "You can't put a man into the
cricket or football field worth his salt; your houses are rowdy; your
men do nothing at the University; two out of three of you are not even
gentlemen." Whereupon the Moderns went in desperately for sports, and
claimed to be represented in the School clubs. They maintained that
they were as good gentlemen as any who talked Latin and Greek; and to
prove it they jingled their money in their trouser-pockets, and asked
what the Classics could do in that line. The Classics could do very
little, and fell back on their moral advantages. By degrees the new
side grew in numbers, and made themselves heard rather more definitely.
They put into the field one or two men who could not honestly be denied
a place in the School teams; and they began to figure also among the
School prefects. The present seniors, Clapperton and his friends,
carried the thing a step further, and insisted on equal rights with
their rivals in all the School institutions. To their surprise they
found an ally in Yorke, who, as we have already said, hurt the feelings
of many of his admirers by his Quixotic insistence on fair play all
round.
The proceedings yesterday had been the most recent instance of the flow
in the tide of Modern progress at Fellsgarth. Reinforced by an unusual
influx of new boys, they had aimed at, and succeeded in winning, their
level half of the control of the School clubs; and Yorke had looked on
and let them do it!
No wonder they went off their heads as they discoursed on their triumph,
and no wonder they already pictured themselves masters of Fellsgarth!
It never does occur to some people that the mountain is not climbed till
the top is reached.
"Really, you know," said Brinkman, "I felt half sorry for those poor
beggars; they did look so sick when Dangle was elected."
"It's my opinion," said Clapperton, "you'd have been in too, if all our
fellows had turned up. I saw four or five of our youngsters come in at
the last moment."
"Yes--by the way," said Dangle, "that ought to be looked into. It's
fishy, to say the least of it, and would have made all the difference to
Brinkman's election."
"Do you know who the fellows were?" asked Clapperton.
"I believe your fag was one of them."
"Percy Wheatfield? Catch him being shut out of anything. But I'll ask
about it. Fancy poor Yorke's feelings if we were to demand a new
election!"
"I tell you what," said Dangle, "I don't altogether understand Yorke.
He tries to pass off as fair, and just, and all that sort of thing; but
one can't be sure he's not playing a game of his own."
"We shall easily see that when it comes to choosing the football fifteen
against Rendlesham. I mean to send him in a list of fellows on our
side. It's only fair we should have half of them our men."
"Half fifteen is seven and a half," said Fullerton, a melancholy senior
who had not yet spoken; "how will you manage about that?"
"Shut up, you ass!"
"I only asked," said Fullerton. "It doesn't matter to me, I don't mind
going as the half man, if you like. If you send seven names you'll be
in a minority in the fifteen, and if you send eight you'll be in a
majority. It doesn't matter to me a bit."
"Just like Fullerton. Always asking riddles that haven't got an
answer," said Dangle.
"I wonder how Fisher will manage the treasurership," said Brinkman, who
was evidently sore at his defeat. "I shouldn't have thought accounts
were much in his line."
"He can't have very hard work doing his own," said Clapperton, laughing,
"but that's not his fault, poor beggar. Only I think it would be much
better to have a fellow for treasurer who wasn't in a chronic state of
being hard up."
"I suppose you mean," said Fullerton, who had a most awkwardly blunt way
of putting things, "he'd have less temptation to steal. I hope Fisher's
not a thief."
"What an idiot you are, Fullerton!" said Clapperton; "whoever said he
was?"
"I didn't. I only asked what you thought. It doesn't much matter to
me, except that it wouldn't be creditable to the School."
"Of course it wouldn't; it's hardly creditable to our side to have a
jackass in it," said Clapperton.
"Oh, all right--I'll go. I dare say you'll get on as well without me."
The others presently followed his example, and Clapperton, left to
himself, proceeded to draw up his list.
"Dear Yorke," he wrote, "You will probably be making up the fifteen for
the Rendlesham match shortly. Please put down me, Brinkman, Dangle,
Fullerton, West, Harrowby, and Ramshaw major, to play from our side.
This will give your side the odd man.
"Yours truly,--
"Geo. Clapperton."
This important epistle accomplished, he shouted for his fag to come and
convey it to its destination.
It was not till after several calls, on an increasing scale of
peremptoriness, that Master Percy condescended to appear. When he did,
he was covered with dust from head to foot, and his face, what could be
seen of it, was visibly lopsided.
"Why don't you come when you're called? Whatever have you been up to--
fighting?"
"Rather not," said Percy, "only boxing. You see, it was this way;
Cottle brought a pair of gloves up this term, and young Lickford had an
old pair; so we three and Ramshaw have been having an eight-handed mill.
It was rather jolly; only Ramshaw and Lickford had the old gloves on,
and they've all the horse-hair out, so Cottle and I got it rather hot on
the face. But we took it out of them with our body blows--above the
belt, you know--not awfully above. I couldn't come when you called,
because we were wrestling out one of the rounds. It's harder work an
eight-handed wrestle than four hands. Just when you called first, I
nearly had Cottle and Lickford down, but you put me off my trip, and
Ramshaw had me over instead."
"All very interesting," said Clapperton, "but you'll have to come sharp
next time or I shall trip you up myself. Take this note over to Yorke.
Stop while he reads it, and if there's any answer, bring it; if not,
don't wait."
"Can't Cash take it? We're not nearly finished."
"No. Cut off, sharp!"
"Awful shame!" growled the messenger to himself, as he departed. "I
hate Clapperton; he always waits till I'm enjoying myself, and then
routs me out. I shan't stand it much longer. What does he want with
Yorke! Perhaps it's a challenge. Yes, by the way, very good chance!
I'll see what that cad Wally's got to say about those kids I found in
his room yesterday. Nice old games he gets up to; Wally's all very well
when he's asleep, or grubbing, or doing impositions, but he's a sight
too artful out of school, like all those Classic kids. One's as bad as
another."
As if to emphasise this sentiment, a Classic kid at that moment came
violently into collision with Master Percy's waistcoat.
It was Fisher minor, who had once more caught sight in the distance of
the mysterious borrower of his half-crown, and was giving chase.
"Where are you coming to, you kid. You've nearly smashed a button.
I'll welt you for that."
"I beg your pardon, Wally, I--"
"Wally--what do you mean by calling me Wally?" exclaimed Percy.
"Well, Wheatfield, I beg your pardon; I was in a hurry to catch a fellow
up and I didn't see you."
"Didn't you? Well, you'll feel me. Take that."
Fisher minor meekly accepted the cuff, and, full of his half-crown,
essayed to proceed. But Percy stopped him.
"You're that new kid, Fisher's minor, aren't you?"
It astonished Fisher minor, that the speaker, whom he supposed he had
seen only ten minutes ago, should so soon have forgotten his name.
"Yes, but I say, Wally, I mean Wheatfield--"
"Humph--I suppose you held up both hands for your precious brother
yesterday."
"No, only one. I was nearly late, though. I waited an hour at the
gymnasium, you know, and no Modern chaps came out at all."
Percy began to smell rats.
"Waited at the gymnasium, did you? Who told you to do that?"
"Oh, you know--it was part of the canvassing."
"Oh, _you_ were in that job, were you, my boy? All serene, I'll--"
"I say," cried Fisher minor, turning pale, "aren't you Wally Wheatfield?
I thought--"
"Me Wally? what do you take me for? I'll let you know who I am. You're
a beauty, you are. Some of our chaps'll tell you who I am, Mr
Canvasser. Now, look here, you stop there till I come back from
Yorke's. If you move an inch--whew! you'll find the weather pretty
warm, I can tell you. Canvassing? You'll get canvassed, I fancy,
before you grow much taller."
And off stalked the indignant Percy, promising himself a particularly
pleasant afternoon, as soon as his errand to the captain was over.
Yorke was at work, with his lexicon and notebooks on the table, when the
envoy entered.
"Well, is that you or your brother?" inquired he.
"Not my brother, if I know it," said Percy.
"That's not much help. He says exactly the same when I put the same
question to him."
"He does, does he? I owe Wally one already, now--"
"Thanks--then you're not Wally. What do you want?"
"This note. Clapperton said I was to wait while you read it, and bring
an answer if there was one."
Yorke read the note, and smiled as he did so. Percy wished he knew what
was in it. He didn't know Clapperton could make jokes.
"Any answer?" he demanded.
"Yes--there's an answer," said the captain.
He took out a list of names from his pocket, and compared it with that
on Clapperton's letter. Then he wrote as follows:--
"Dear Clapperton,--The fifteen against Rendlesham is already made up as
follows," (here followed the list). "You will see it includes six of
the names you sent. We must play the best team we can; and I think we
shall have it.
"Yours truly,--
"Cecil Yorke."
"There's the answer. Take it over at once."
"I like his style," growled Percy to himself. "He don't seem to have a
`please' about him. Catch me hurrying myself for him; I've got this
precious canvasser to look after."
And he returned at a leisurely pace to the rendezvous.
No Fisher minor was there!
That young gentleman, when left to himself, found himself in a
perspiration of doubt and fear. He had made a most awkward blunder, and
confessed the delinquencies of his comrades to the very last man they
would wish to know of them. That was bad enough; but, to make things
worse, he was to be let in for the blame of the whole affair, and, with
Master Percy's assistance, was shortly to experience warm weather among
the Moderns.
Happy thought! He would not stay where he was. He would retire, as the
Latin book said, into winter quarters, and entrench himself in the
stronghold of Wally and D'Arcy and Ashby. If he _was_ to get it hot, he
would sooner get it from them than from the barbarians in Forder's.
With which desperate conclusion, and once more devoutly wishing himself
safe at home, he made tracks, at a rapid walk, to Wally's room. His
three comrades were all there.
"What's up?" said they as he entered, with agitated face.
"Oh, I say, it's all because you and your brother are so alike. I met
him just now; and--he's heard about that canvassing, you know, and I
thought you'd like to know."
"You mean to say you blabbed?" said Wally, jumping to his feet.
"It's your fault," said D'Arcy. "I've made the same mistake myself.
Why can't you grow a moustache or something to distinguish you?"
"Why can't you get your brother to be a Classic! then it wouldn't
matter--either of you would do," suggested Ashby.
Ashby was beginning to feel quite at home in Wakefield's.
"I'll let some of you see if it won't matter," retorted Wally. "If
they've got wind of that affair the other side, there'll be a fearful
row. They'll want another election. Oh, you young idiot! That comes
of trusting a new kid, that sings comic songs, and parts his hair the
wrong side, with a secret. D'Arcy's nearly as big an ass as you are
yourself, to trust you."
After this Philippic, Wally felt a little better, and was ready to
consider what had better be done.
"He's bound to come here, you chaps," said he. "You cut. Leave him to
me--I'll tackle him."
Fisher minor considered this uncommonly good advice, and obeyed it with
alacrity. The other two followed less eagerly. They would have liked
to stay and see the fun.
As Wally expected, his affectionate relative, being baulked of his prey
outside, came to pay a fraternal visit.
"What cheer?" said he. "I say, have you seen a kid called Fisher minor?
The new kid, you know, that we had a lark with at dinner on first-
night."
"Oh, that chap. Bless you, he messes in our study. What about him?"
"I want him. I want to say something to him."
"I'll tell him."
"All right. He's come and told you, has he? and you're hiding him?
Never mind; I'll bowl him out, the beauty. I know all about that little
game of yours, yesterday, you know!"
"What little game?"
"As if you didn't know! Do you suppose I didn't find five of 'em shut
up here yesterday, being kept out of the way at Elections?"
"Yes; and do you suppose if it hadn't been for me they'd have got into
the Hall at all? Don't be a beast, Percy, if you can help. They stayed
here of their own accord. No one kept them in. I say, have some
toffee?"
"Got any?"
"Rather. A new brew this morning. I say, you can have half of it."
"Thanks, awfully, Wally."
"You see--oh, take more than that--these new kids are such born asses,
they boss everything. You should have heard that Fisher minor at lamb's
singing the other night--like the toffee? I say, don't be a sneak about
those chaps. You'd never have got them in without me. I backed you up,
and got the door open. I say--would you like a Turkish stamp? I've got
one to swop--but you can have it if you like."
"Thanks, old man. Yes, new kinds are rot. Well, ta, ta--better make it
up, I suppose. I say, I shan't have time to write home to-day. You
write this time, and I'll do the two next week."
"All serene, if you like. Here, you're leaving one of your bits of
toffee. Ta, ta, old chappie."
And these great twin brethren, whose infirmity it was always to be fond
of one another when they were together, and to scorn one another when
they were apart, separated in a most amicable fashion.
"Well?" asked the three exiles, putting in their heads as soon as the
enemy had gone.
"Choked him off," said Wally, fanning himself. "Jolly hard work. But
he came round."
Percy, meanwhile, having suddenly remembered his errand, hastened back
to the house. As he did so he observed notices of the fifteen for the
Rendlesham match posted on Wakefield's door, on the school-board, and at
Forder's. He solaced himself by writing in bold characters the word
"beast" against each of the names which belonged to a Classic boy, and
discovered, when his task was done, that he had inscribed the word nine
times out of fifteen on each notice. Whereupon he made off at a run to
his senior's.
"Well," said Clapperton, evidently anxious, "didn't I tell you to come
back at once! Any answer?"
"Yes, this," said Percy, producing the captain's letter. "I say, Yorke
grinned like anything when he read yours."
"Did he?" replied Clapperton, opening the envelope.
Evidently Yorke in his reply had not been guilty of a joke, for the face
of the Modern captain was dark and scowling as he read it.
"Cool cheek," muttered he. "Dangle was right, after all. You can go,
youngster."
"All right. I say, they've got the fifteen stuck up on the boards--six
of our chaps in it. We ought to lick them this year."
But as Clapperton did not do him the favour of heeding his observations,
he retired, and tried vainly to collect his scattered forces to conclude
the eight-handed boxing match, which had been so unfeelingly interrupted
an hour ago.
Clapperton, to do him justice, could not deny to himself that the team
selected by the captain was the best fighting fifteen the School could
put into the football field. But, having advanced his claim for half
numbers, his pride was hurt at finding it almost contemptuously set
aside. It would never do for him to climb down now.
The Moderns, after all, had a right to have their men in; and he had a
right to assume they were better players than some of the selected
Classics. It was easy to work himself into a rage, and talk about
favouritism, and abuse of privilege, and all that. His popularity in
his own house depended on his fighting their battles, and he must do it
now. So he wrote a reply to Yorke.
"Dear Yorke,--I do not agree with you about the fifteen. I consider the
men on our side whom you have omitted are better than the three I have
marked on your list. If we are to make the clubs a success, we ought to
pull together, and let there be no suspicion, however groundless, of
favouritism.
"Yours truly, Geo. Clapperton."
To this letter, which he sent over by another junior, more expeditious
than his last, he received the following reply:--
"Dear Clapperton,--Sides have nothing to do with it. If the best
fifteen names were all on your side, I should have to select them. But
they are not. The fifteen I have chosen are undoubtedly the best men we
have, and the team most likely to win the match. I suppose that is what
we play for.
"Yours truly,--
"Cecil Yorke."
This polite correspondence Clapperton laid before his friends. The
general feeling was that the Moderns were being unfairly and
disrespectfully used.
"It's the old story over again," said Dangle. "If we don't look after
ourselves, nobody else will."
"At any rate, as long as he's captain, I suppose he has the right to
pick the team," said Fullerton. "_I_ shouldn't be particularly sorry if
he were to leave me out. It wouldn't matter to me."
"Who cares whether it matters to you? It matters to our side," said
Brinkman, "and we oughtn't to stand it."