“Young Oakshott,” said Arthur, with all the dignity of a Swift exhibitioner, “don’t you make a bigger ass of yourself than you can help.”
The term had ended well for Railsford’s house. Although restored to their equal rights with the rest of Grandcourt, the spirit of enterprise and achievements which had been born during the troubles of last term survived, and begot an equal spirit in the other houses, who felt their prestige in danger from the bold challenge of these latest aspirants.
The match of Railsford’s against the School did not come off; for the Athletic Union, of which Railsford had been chosen president by acclamation, decided to limit the contests to house matches only. But though deprived of an opportunity of asserting themselves against all Grandcourt—which might have been of doubtful benefit—the house beat successively the School-house, Roe’s and Grover’s houses, and, as everyone had foreseen, ended the term as the crack cricket house of the school.
How they would fulfil their other and more ambitious scheme of becoming the “cock house” for studies, remained much longer a doubtful question. No one of course supposed for a moment they would carry off all the prizes they entered for; and, after the removal of the ban upon the house, it was pretty generally calculated they they would do a great deal less than they would have done under the old order of things.
But Railsford was not the man to allow the house to rest on their oars because of a single success. Surely, he represented, it was not to go out to all the school that Railsford’s fellows could only work when they were in a bad temper? Glorious as it would have been to clear the prize list when they were isolated and sulky, it would be still more glorious to show that not less could they do it when they were in good cheer and shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the school. Besides, if they won all the athletic events and none of the scholastic, people would be sure to say any fools can excel in sports if they let all their books go by the board.
Thus Railsford whipped up his house to their great effort, and the result was that to-day’s prize list showed that nearly half the honours of the examinations had fallen to Railsford’s boys. Not a few there were who looked gloomy that the result was no better. They grudged the school the other half. But there was no gloom on the master’s face as he read the list down and saw the reward of his labours.
He was proud, but his pride was not on account of Mark Railsford, as six months ago it might have been, but of every boy, senior and junior, who had put his back gallantly into the work and made a name for the good old house.
But this is a tedious digression to make, while Arthur and the baronet are putting on their Sunday “togs” and brushing up their Sunday “tiles” preparatory to going down to meet the 9.40 train from London.
They were up to the business; they had done it before; they knew how essential it was to engage half a dozen cabs off different parts of the rank, so as to be sure of getting one; and, not for the first time in their lives they “bagged” three or four porters in advance with a similar object.
The platform, as usual, was full of Courtiers waiting for their “people,” and many was the passage of arms our Shell-fish engaged in to beguile the time.