In the year of grace 1877 some traces still remained of an ancient feud between the school and the boys of the town. The name "Thatches" had been invented by the latter on account of the peculiar pattern of straw hat worn by their adversaries; while the answering taunt always used in those warlike times was, "Hey, Johnny, where's your apron?" a remark which greatly incensed the small sons of toil, who usually wore this garment.
"What have you been doing to those chaps?" asked Jack, as the horses slowed down and the yell was repeated.
"One of them cheeked me, and I hit him with my stick."
"Well, we'd better slip away as soon as this thing stops; we don't want to have a row with them here."
Unfortunately for the three boys, their steeds stopped just opposite the hostile group. Jack pushed through them with an expression of lofty contempt, an example followed by Rosher; but Raymond was stupidly led into a further exchange of incivilities.
"Don't you give me any more of your confounded impudence, you miserable little cads, or I'll give you another taste of this stick."
The "cads" answered with a shout of derisive laughter, and a few more straggling clansmen joining the band, they followed after the three friends, keeping at a safe distance, and repeating their cries of "Yah! Thatches! Hit one yer own size!" and other remarks of a similar nature.
"We can't go on like this," said Jack. "They'll follow us all round the fair. Shall we charge the beggars?"
"No," answered Raymond. "Let's go into the circus, and that'll put them off the track. You fellows pay, and I'll owe it you; I don't want to change my sovereign here."
Rosher paid for three shilling seats, and the trio entered the big circular tent, thus for the time being effectually escaping from the pursuing band of unfriendly natives.