The Loom of Youth

by Alec Waugh

"Damn it all, it is not the first time the swine has done the dirty on me. Look at the way he kicked me out of the side last year."

"I know, that's what I told him. And he owned that both of us as individuals were worth our places, but that we upset the side and rotted about, and were always up against him."

"Silly ass the man must be. We are keen enough, aren't we? But I damned well don't see why we should treat footer and cricket like a chapel service. We can laugh in form if anything funny happens; then why the hell shouldn't we laugh on the field? And, my God, Caruthers, you did look an ass when you missed that catch." Lovelace roared with laughter at the thought of it. "The way you juggled with it, and old Bull tearing his hair, oh, it was damned funny."

"But, you see, 'the Bull' thinks games are everything, and, damn it all, they are the things that really matter. We each may have our own private interests. But games are the thing. Only personally I don't see why we should not see the funny side of them. To 'the Bull' a dropped catch is an everlasting disgrace."

"Oh, let 'the Bull' go to blazes, I am sick of him. If he wants to kid me out of the Colts, he can; and I'll go and enjoy myself on House games. But look here, there is a Stoics debate to-night and it's nearly roll-time. You had better go down and bag two seats."

The Stoics society was of elastic proportions, including everyone above IV. A, for a life subscription of sixpence, and during the winter term it held meetings every other week in the School House reading-room. The actual membership was over a hundred, but rarely more than fifty attended, and of those who went only fifty per cent. paid any attention to the proceedings. The rest looked on it as a good excuse for getting off work. Three quarters of the society were from the School House, and these arrived with deck chairs, cushions and a novel, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Christy was the president, and this was to a great extent the reason for so general an atmosphere of boredom and indifference. For Christy was the typical product of conventionality and pharisaism. He was so thoroughly contented with anything he superintended that he refused to believe any improvement was possible. But this year Betteridge was honorary secretary and had tried to infuse a little life into the society. The subject for the first debate of the term was "Classical and Modern Education," and Ferrers was going to speak for the modern side. Ferrers was always writing to the papers, and was already well known in the common room as a feverish orator. A good deal had been rumoured about him, and the school were rather anxious to hear him. There was quite a large audience. At about twenty past seven Christy came in, and everyone stood up till he had sat down. Burgess was to open the debate for the classics, and Christy was to second him. Ferrers and Pothering, the head of Claremont's, were for the moderns. The debate was supposed to open at twenty past the hour. But Ferrers had not arrived. There was an awkward pause. At last Christy got up.

"I really think it is useless to wait any longer for Mr Ferrers. We will proceed. The motion before the House is: That in the opinion of this House a classical education is more efficacious than a modern one. I will call on Mr Burgess to open the motion."

There was a little clapping as Burgess got up with a customary display of conceit. He ran his hand through his hair and took a glance at his notes, and then began with the blasé air of Mercury addressing a Salvation Army meeting.

"Of course those in favour of modern education will defend themselves on the grounds of general utility. They will point out the uselessness of Greek in business; all I can say to that is that the Public School man should be too much of a gentleman to wish to succeed in business. He should aim higher; he should follow the ideals set before him by the classics. Nearly all the poets and politicians of to-day are Public School men; nearly all ..."

He went on rolling off absurdly dogmatic statements that were based solely on ignorance and arrogance. He was of the Rogers' school of oratory. He believed that a sufficient amount of conceit and self-possession would carry anyone through. About half-way through his speech he was interrupted by the approach of a whirlwind. There was a sound of feet on the stone passage, something crashed against the door, and in rolled Ferrers in a most untidy blue suit, a soft collar, an immense woollen waistcoat, and three books under his arm. These he slammed on the table, in company with his cap.