It was a feat to be proud of, and Tony was justly and pardonably proud. It was at least a gratification next morning to see not only that the school generally took unabated interest in the Dominican, but that he had fairly astonished his own class-fellows. Their admiration of the editor was unbounded and undisguised. Their consciences had all, more or less, reproached them for backing out of their responsibilities in the way they had; and now it quite touched them to see how, notwithstanding, Anthony had by his own labour made up for their defect, and sustained the reputation of the Fifth before all the school.
The crush outside the door was greater than ever this time, and Master Paul, who again acted as policeman, was obliged to summon Stephen to his assistance in watching to see that no damage came to the precious document.
The account of the Alphabet Match was very graphic, and written quite in the usual absurd “sporting style,” greatly to the amusement of most of those who had taken part in it. Here is a specimen:—
“At 4.30, sharp, the leather was taken into custody by ‘Gamey’ Raikes, at the wash-house end, who tried what his artful ‘yorkers’ could do in the way of dissolving partnership. But Teddy Loman kept his willow straight up, and said ‘Not at home’ to every poser, leaving Noll to do all the smacking. This pretty business might have gone on till to-morrow week had the men’s upper stories been as ‘O.K.’ as their timbers, but they messed about over a pretty snick of Noll’s, and, after popping the question three times, Teddy got home just in time to see his two bails tumble out of their groove. Teddy didn’t like this, and bowled his partner a wide compliment, which Noll, like a sensible man, didn’t walk out to, and Teddy was astonished to find his party could get on without him;” and so on.
This version of the incident was by no means pleasant to Loman, but to every one else it was highly diverting, and it actually made one or two of the Fifth think that Oliver, after all, had not done such a very discreditable thing in taking that angry word in silence. If only he had shown more spirit about the blow, they could have forgiven the rest.
Then followed more from the “Sixth Form Mouse”:—
“The Sixth held a Cabinet Council to-day to discuss who should go out for nuts. The choice fell on Callonby. I wonder why the Sixth are so fond of nuts. Why, monkeys eat nuts. Perhaps that is the reason. What a popular writer Mr Bohn is with the Sixth! they even read him at lesson time! I was quite sorry when the Doctor had to bone Wren’s Bohn. I wonder, by the way, why that bird found it so hard to translate the simplest sentence without his Bohn! The Doctor really shouldn’t—I hope he will restore to Wren his backbone by giving him back his Bohn. Hum! I heard some one smiling. I’ll go.”
The Sixth, a good many of them, were imprudent enough to look very guilty at the reading of this extract, a circumstance which appeared to afford keenest delight to the Fifth. But as Simon’s poem followed, they had other food for thought at the moment. The poem was entitled—
A Revverie.
I.
I walked me in the garden, all in the garden fair,
And mused upon my hindmost sole all in the open air.
When lo! I heard above my head a sound all like a wisk,
I stepped me aside thereat out of the way so brisk.
(Hindmost sole, possibly “inmost soul”; wisk, possibly “whisk.”)
II.
I looked me up, and there behold! and lo! a window broad,
And out thereof I did dizzern a gallant fishing-rod,
All sporting in the breaze untill the hook in ivy caught,
And then the little lad he tried to pull it harder than he ought.
III.
It broke, alas! and so messeems fades life’s perplecksing dreems,
And vanish like that fishing-rod all in the dark messeems.
I wonder if my perplecksing dreems will vanish like the rod in the dark,
And I shall rise and rise and rise and rise all like a lark.
IV.
Oh wood I was a lark, a lark all lofty in the sky,
I do not know what I should do to quench my blazing eye.
I’d look me down on Dominic’s, and think of the days when I was young,
Or would I was an infant meek all sucking of my thumb.
Again Simon, who had watched with intense interest the reception of his poem, was perplexed to notice the amusement it had caused. Even Pembury had mistaken its “inmost soul,” for he had placed it in the column devoted to “Facetiae.” Nor could Simon understand why, for the next week, every one he met had his thumb in his mouth. It was very queer—one of life’s mysteries—and he had thoughts of embodying the fact in his “Sole’s Allegery,” which was now rapidly approaching completion.