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"But surely there are really no fathers quite so absurd as old Kennion.
Does not Houghton exaggerate the type, as d.i.c.kens exaggerates all his types?"
"Oh no, he's real enough; I expect there are a good many like him living in Fernhurst now."
The truth of the last remark was brought home three days later.
On the Friday before the debate Ferrers got a bad attack of influenza.
There would be no one to take the chair. Moved by an instinct of courtesy, Ferrers wrote to Christy a little note, enclosing the book, and asking him to preside.
On Sat.u.r.day morning Christy went up to Betteridge in break.
"Ah, Betteridge, Mr Ferrers has asked me to take the chair at the Stoics. Well, I myself would not be present when such a play was read.
It is aimed at the very roots of domestic morality. It might do very well in a small circle of Senior boys. But it would have a very serious effect on young boys who are not as mature as you or I are. None of my house will attend; and, from a conversation I had with Mr Rogers and Mr Claremont, I am fairly certain they will not allow their houses to go either. It would be really much better to wait until Mr Ferrers is well again before anything is done. It would be quite easy to postpone the meeting, I suppose."
"Oh yes, sir, of course."
Betteridge was not paying much attention: he was thinking hard. The bell for school rang.
"That will be all right then, Betteridge."
"Quite, thank you, sir."
Christy, bubbling with satisfaction, rushed off to tell the head of Buller's that the meeting had been postponed. Things were turning out well for him. He had obtained the beating of Caruthers, and now he had most distinctly scored off Ferrers. He did not stop to think that both these campaigns had been carried on behind his enemy's back.
But in his moment of triumph over Ferrers he did not pause to think whether he had also triumphed over the School House spirit of antagonism which he himself had stirred up.
During the half-hour between morning school and lunch, Betteridge, Tester and Gordon held a council of war.
"Of course, whatever we do," said Betteridge, "is bound to be in the nature of farce. Three houses, you see, won't turn up at all, Abercrombie's hardly ever sends anyone, and I don't mind betting that Christy gets round 'the Bull' somehow."
"Yes; but, confound it all," said Gordon, "are we going to be dictated to by these outhouse potentates? The Stoics is more a School House society than anything else; and, what's more, it is going to remain so.
These outhouse men can come or go if they want to. It does not matter to us. Let us read this play with a School House cast, carry the thing through somehow, and show these fools like Christy what we think of them. Now is our chance of proving our independence."
"Won't there be a h.e.l.l of a row, though?" said Betteridge reluctantly.
"What if there is, man?" said Gordon. "We can't help that. Somehow or other that play is going to be read. Let this evening be a symbol of the House's att.i.tude. These houses have flung down the glove. They beat our forwards when we win matches, and they try and stop our meetings. d.a.m.n it, we'll pick up the glove!"
"Yes," shouted Gordon, "and fling it in their snivelling faces."
Betteridge drew up a huge notice of the meeting after hall and posted it on the school board. It ran as follows:
In spite of the fact that many of the usual readers will be prevented from attending the Second Meeting of the Stoics this term, the Society will read, at seven-thirty, in the School House Reading Room,
_THE YOUNGER GENERATION_
BY STANLEY HOUGHTON
Cast ....
(_Signed_) C.P. BETTERIDGE.
That evening was historic. Every member of the School House attended the meeting, the members of the day-room as well as those from the studies.
The reading-room was packed. It was a record meeting. The reading was erratic. Parts were forced at the eleventh hour on reluctant and totally unsuitable persons. But somehow or other they got through it in the end; and that was all that mattered.
But still it was not without a little nervousness that the conspirators awaited developments. Christy saw the notice and fumed. Ferrers heard of it and laughed. Rogers rushed to the Chief palpitating with rage.
After lunch the Chief sent for Betteridge, and asked for a copy of _The Younger Generation_. There was an air of nervous antic.i.p.ation pervading the studies. Just before tea the Chief sent for Betteridge again.
"A very interesting play. Very modern, of course, but extremely clever.
Thank you so much for lending it me. I wish I had been at the reading. A record attendance, I hear. Well, ask me to come next time you get as good a play as that."
There was no reference to the outhouse boycott. The Chief was very tactful, and, moreover, he had enjoyed reading the play immensely.
Besides, it would not have done any good if he had made a fuss, especially when he was entirely in sympathy with Betteridge.
In _The Fernhurst School Magazine_, which was edited by Betteridge, there appeared the following paragraph:--
"On Sat.u.r.day, 5th March, before a record and appreciative audience, the Stoics read _The Younger Generation_, by Stanley Houghton. There was no one who failed to realise the extraordinary insight into the life of the day that made such a work possible. The enthusiasm and applause were highly significant, as showing what a keen interest the school is taking in all questions of social and domestic life. There were rather fewer representatives from the outhouses than usual, but this was as well, as there would have been little room for them."
The victory of Christy was not so very complete after all.
With this successful demonstration Gordon's excitement in House politics abated.
CHAPTER VIII: THE DAWNING OF MANY DREAMS
The Three c.o.c.k came and went, bringing with it House caps for Lovelace, Collins and Fletcher, but it caused little stir. Everyone had foreseen the result, and without Hazelton (ill with mumps) the House stood little chance of keeping the score under fifty. Hostilities were declared closed for the time being. The four weeks of training for the sports came on, and Gordon's Sixth Form privileges were restored. For a short time the hold of athleticism was weakened, and as it weakened, the hold of literature became more firm.
"House Caps" were always allowed a fairly slack time after the Three c.o.c.k, and Gordon made the best of his. While the last traces of winter were disappearing, and the evenings began to draw out into long, lingering sunsets, he voyaged on into the unknown waters of poetry.
Keats and Sh.e.l.ley, names which had once meant nothing to him, now became his living prophets. He felt his own life coloured by their interpretations. During the days of his quest for power, when the scent of battle had led him on, he had found inspiration only in those whose moods coincided with his own. But now that the contest was over and strife was merged into a temporary lull, there came a check in the fiery search for achievements. He found pleasure in the gentler but far more beautiful melodies of Keats. Byron and Swinburne had beaten so loudly on their drums, and blown so forcibly on the clarion that his ears had been deafened. But in the peaceful afterglow of satisfied desire he asked for soft and quiet music.
During this time he saw a great deal of Ferrers. Together they discussed all the questions that to them seemed most vital. The Public School system came in for a great deal of abuse.
"A lot wants altering," Ferrers said. "Boys come here fresh from preparatory schools. If they are clever and get into higher forms, they are put among bigger boys, and they get their outlook coloured by them.
They get wrong impressions shoved into their heads, cease to think at all, lose all sense of honesty and morality. Then the school that has made them like this finds out what they are, and sends them away."
"By Jove, that's just what Jeffries said."
"Jeffries--who is Jeffries? I don't know him."
"He was a splendid fellow; but, like most other people, he followed the crowd, then got caught and had to go."
"That is it; always the same. Usually the least bad are sacked, too; never heard of a real rake getting sent away; the rakes are far too clever. Cleverness is what counts, counts all through life. A man is expelled only because he is not clever enough to avoid being caught, and then the school thinks it's saving the others by sending him away. And it does no good. The big wrong 'un stays on, only the weak one goes.
Human nature is a thing that has got to be dealt with carefully, not in the half-hearted way it is here."
Ferrers wrote a great deal about Public Schools to the various London papers. He was fast winning a name in the educational world. But he was always being asked to modify his statements. He raved against the weakness of the authorities.