“The Doctor has a dinner-party to-day, so he’s safe not to come near us,” said Jack. “And Porbury’s sure to be at it. He wasn’t at our dinner, you know.”
So we set to work at once upon the duck, which Jack divided by tearing off the legs and wings, and giving one to each of us. The body he kept to himself, and I think he had the best of the bargain. But Jack, as I said before, was one of those fellows who manage to get the best of everything for themselves. I remember we thought him very generous when he cut off a piece of the breast with his pocket knife, and gave it to Howard, to whose lot had fallen the wing that had been burned in the process of cooking.
The duck was pronounced excellent; the only fault was that there seemed to be so little on it after all; and when it and the potatoes were finished, and the bones licked clean, we turned our attention to the less substantial portion of the entertainment. Didn’t we make short work of the apple tarts and Saunders’ cake, washing them down with lemonade, made out of two lemons and some sugar, which we had coaxed out of the housekeeper! All the while we were talking and laughing, as well as eating as fast as we could, and agreeing that it was the jolliest Christmas dinner we had ever had.
The fun, indeed, began to grow fast and furious. At a very early stage of the proceedings Jack had volunteered a song, and now, inspired by the potent liquor I have just mentioned, he had mounted on a chair, and was bellowing, at the pitch of his voice, a song which some youthful genius had composed, as a sort of national anthem for the school. I only remember the first verse, which was—
“In Upton House’s wintry clime,
We now must work at our books for a time,
Or, if we don’t, we’ll catch toko,
Which is what Mr. Patrick did upon the musical instrument bestow,
So early in the morning,