In some moods Murray was not a cheerful companion, and I could not help telling him that to be bullied by your scout is not a good preparation for governing anything. And as a matter of fact Thornton became gradually so very eccentric, that even Murray had to admit that if he was a genius he was one who had lost his way.
After our eight had been successful Jack Ward was very anxious that they should go to Henley, but both the Bursar, who had done more to improve our rowing than anybody, and The Bradder wanted them to wait for another year.
"We shall have nearly the same eight next summer, and two or three good freshers are coming up," The Bradder argued.
"I shall be in the schools," Jack replied sadly, and though The Bradder turned away suddenly I saw him smiling, for Jack's essays were some of the most comical things ever written.
Anything which resembled style he said was unwholesome, and although Mr. Grace talked to him like a parent and The Bradder tried persuasion and abuse, he stuck to his solid way of giving information. But he confided in me that the reason was that he couldn't write a proper essay to save his life.
"All I want," he exclaimed, "is a degree, and that's what these men don't understand. Besides, I spell badly; it's a disease with me, and when you have got it, you may be able to think of a word, but you would be a precious fool to use it when another man has to read what you have written. So my vocabulary gets limited, and I'm going to stick to facts, and I shouldn't wonder if the examiners don't like them. They so seldom get them."
I don't think he understood what a very great deal some of the history men manage to know, but, at any rate, his way of tackling the examiners was novel, and considering the disease from which he was suffering, perhaps it was also the best he could choose. So he went on learning things by heart, and put up long lists of things on his looking-glass, or any place where he was likely to see them. I saw the extraordinary word "Brom" pinned on to a photograph of Collier, and found out that it stood for Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde and Malplaquet.
"I can't help thinking that Marlborough finished off with Blenheim, because it is the sort of battle any one who is not even reading history has heard of," he explained, "and I have to get that idea out of my head. You will find all sorts of funny words stuck about the place. I've got 'Kajakk' pinned on to a lobelia in my flower-box, because I am always leaving out Anne of Cleves; she never seemed to have a chance, and you must have the man's wives all right."
"Do you think they matter much?" I asked.
"Of course they do. They are guide-posts to the reign, but they would do much better if half of them were not Katharines."