When Yorke and the other prefects arrived on the scene there were, of course, loud cheers; but as the opposition was not there to make any counter-demonstration, it was not quite as noisy as on former occasions.
Percy did, indeed, attempt to get up a little opposition at this stage by calling for “three cheers for the Moderns”; but as he was left to give them by himself—even his own adherents declining to be drawn into cheers for Clapperton—the display fell rather flat.
The captain’s speech was short and to the point. Of course they knew why the meeting was called. There had been mutiny at Fellsgarth. Fellows had deliberately set themselves against his authority as captain, which was a minor thing, and against the success of Fellsgarth in sports, which was a low and shabby thing. (Cheers.) He wasn’t going to mention names; but he meant to say this, that they had much better dissolve the club right away—(No, no)—than not all pull together. Last Saturday, as every one knew, they had been left utterly in the lurch; and but for good luck, and the good play of some of the fifteen—amongst whom, he was glad to say, was one fellow who had had the pluck to act on his own judgment of what was due to the School—(loud and prolonged cheers, in the midst of which Corder perked up, and looked pleased)—they had held their own with a very scratch team. They couldn’t expect to do as much again—(Why not?)—and it was not fair to the School to play matches without all their best men in the team. The proposal he had to make was that unless the fellows now standing out chose to return to their allegiance to the School within a week, all future matches for the term should be scratched, and the club dissolved.
The captain’s proposal caused considerable consternation. Ridgway rose, and said he considered the motion dealt far too leniently with the mutineers. He would say, drum them out of the club, and reorganise without them.
Denton asked if it would not be more honest and straightforward to summon them to the next match, and if they didn’t turn up give them the thrashing they deserved?
Fisher major said he supported the captain’s proposal. It was nonsense their playing with scratch teams, and letting it be supposed that was the best the School could do. Some of the fellows on strike were no doubt good players, and that made it all the more discreditable of them to try to damage the School record by crippling the team. They no doubt hoped that they would be begged to rejoin on their—own terms. Rather than that, he was in favour of disbanding the club, and letting the fellows devote their energy to running and jumping, and other sports, where each fellow could distinguish himself independently of what any others chose to do. (Hear, hear.)
Ranger also supported Yorke’s motion. Very likely the mutineers would crow, and say the club couldn’t get on without them. No more they could, in a sense. But he, for one, was not going to ask them to come back, and would sooner break up the club, and let them have the satisfaction of knowing they had injured Fellsgarth.
Amid loud cheers Corder followed. He was sorry, he said, there was to be no more football, but supposed there was nothing else they could do. He was glad to see some Moderns present, even though they were only juniors. (Laughter.) It showed that there were some fellows on the Modern side that stuck by the School. He fancied these youngsters could take care of themselves. He was glad to hear a human voice again. (Laughter.) It might be fun to some present, but he could assure them it was none to him. No one had spoken to him for four days. He was cut by his house, and had to thank even some of the juniors present for assisting to make his life in Forder’s miserable. He didn’t care much, so far. They might make him cave in, in the long run. (No! Stick out!) Let the fellow who cried “Stick out,” come and try it. His only offence had been that he had played for the School. To do anything for the School was now considered a crime on the Modern side. (Shame.) Anyhow, he should vote for the captain’s motion; and though he wasn’t particularly sweet on the Classics as a body, he was beginning to think they weren’t quite as bad as his own side.
Percy hereupon rose, amid derisive cheers. He didn’t know why the names of him and his lot had been brought in; but he just wanted to say that they were here to-day because they had a right to come, and weren’t going to be kept out by anybody—not if they knew it. (Rather not!) He and his lot thought there wasn’t much to choose between anybody, especially the juniors of the Classic side, who thought they were jolly clever, but were about the biggest stuck-uppest louts he— (Order. Kick him out.) He hoped the meeting would rally round the School shop, where every one was treated alike, and got the best grub for the money of any school going. They were going to get some Ribston— (Order. Time.) All right. They shouldn’t hear what he was going to say now. (Loud cheers.)
Yorke said they all seemed to be pretty much of the same mind; and he would put his motion to the vote.