Acton came on and received his hearty welcome with easy good nature. He plunged right into his contribution: "A London cabby's account of his different fares"—from the double-superfine gilt-edged individual to the fat old dowager who will have the parrot inside with her. Acton gave it perfectly. Grim, who had his ears glued to the exit door, vowed he could almost hear the swell drop his eyeglass.
Sharpe stepped on to the stage amid the polite attentions of his natural enemies. "Be a man, Sharpe." "Don't cry." "You'll see mamma soon." "Speak up." "He did it all alone, remember." "No help." "Oh, dear no!"
"When on the bosom of the sleeping pool,
That's shaded o'er by trees in greenest dress,
Upon its breast of snow its gem of gold
The water lily swims——"
The juniors howled with dismay at this commencement, and Corker juniors instantly began to keep time to Sharpe's delivery in the organ-grinder's fashion. But Sharpe toiled remorselessly on. He compared Biffen's house to a water lily growing in a muddy pond, and again as a Phoenix risen from the ashes; and he gave us, with circumstantial details, every round of the footer housers, their two eleven caps, and the Perry Exhibition, and darkly hinted at Acton's exclusion from the eleven.
He wound up his awful farrago in one glorious burst of solemn fury—
"And even Fate girds on her sword, and her right arm she stiffens,
As thunders to the icy pole the glorious name of Biffen's."
When Sharpe finally made his bow, according to the invariable custom, every junior except a Biffenite imitated with rare fidelity the mixed sensations of channel passengers after a stormy passage.
Sharpe, cheered to the echo by the Biffenites on the front row, went proudly off.
The Dervishes were received with enthusiasm, and went through their performance to the shouts of "Well wriggled, Java!" "Why don't you oil!" "Do it again—orang-outang!" They amiably smiled acknowledgments as they backed away.
Then I myself stepped on to the stage, prepared to judge the two-minutes' rounds. Grim had whipped up sixteen fags, each willing to do battle for the honour of his house. The rounds proceeded to the accompaniment of ear-splitting encouragement, and I had the satisfaction of knowing that not a solitary one of the defeated heroes thought he had really been beaten on points.