The Prefects in Mr. Chowdler’s house were genuinely afraid of Mr. Chowdler, though they had long learnt how to manage him. They now looked portentously solemn, confessed that they had heard rumours of the impending “rag” beforehand, but had not taken them seriously, and admitted that Mr. Cox’s house was not as good as it had once been. But they were much too tactful and considerate to let out that, as holders of the cricket trophy, they had themselves headed the procession in a body.
The upshot of it all was that people were just a little anxious as to what might happen at the school concert on the last night of Term. Even Dr. Gussy confessed privately that he would be glad when the concert was over. For a great many Old Chilternians were expected for the occasion, and, when Old Boys get together and become excited, they are sometimes—not rowdy, of course, but, perhaps, a little boisterous; and then the school catches the excitement and loses its sense of proportion. Still, the boys at Chiltern were all gentlemen; and, if you treat gentlemen as gentlemen, they may be trusted to behave as gentlemen. Everybody at Chiltern believed that, except, perhaps, Mr. Bent, who was a cynic and believed nothing, and Mr. Grady, the science master, whose face always had a hunted expression and who sometimes came out of school with mice in his pockets and his hair full of flour.
However, in spite of forebodings, the concert was not much more noisy than concerts usually were at Chiltern. Dr. Gussy was cheered to the echo, and, though he had taken his official farewell of the school only half an hour before, he was obliged to come on to the platform and make another speech. Mrs. Gussy smiled her acknowledgments from her place, and the youngest Miss Gussy was in tears. As for the school song, it went with a roar that nearly lifted the roof off the Great Hall. The song of Chiltern is not essentially different from other school songs. Without ever lapsing into poetry, it maintains, throughout, a fair rhythm and a high level of imbecility. Its opening verse has served as a model to many imitations:
John Buss was a farrier bold,
And he turned his sweat into drops of gold;
He fought hard battles, and when he died
He left a school for his country’s pride,
The best of schools, that has won renown
From Chiltern chimes to the frontier town.
Chorus: John Buss, John of Us,