The Cock-House at Fellsgarth Part 28

You'll get it unless you stand out like the rest of us."

"I say, what's the Latin for `wrong,' Clapperton?"

"Do you hear what I say?"

"Yes, yes--is it `malus,' or `unrectus,' or what?"

"Are you going to do what I tell you?"

"How can I say what the chaps'll do?"

"You must tell them; you're f.a.gs' captain. They must do what you tell them."

"I'd jolly well like to catch them not," said Percy, tossing his head: "I'd teach 'em. I say, do you think `unrectus' will do?"

"Remember, you'll get it pretty hot if you disobey in this, I promise you."

"Perhaps `malus' is better form," suggested the junior.

Clapperton left in despair.

"What a fearful a.s.s I was," said Percy when he had gone, "not to make him write my impot! Just like me. Catch our lot not going to that meeting! We aint going to skulk. Whew! there goes the quarter to! I shall never get done this brutal thing."

"Id est malus non facere quad magister dicit. Vos voluntas laetus audire ut Fellsgarthus liquebat Rendleshamus ad pedemballum super Sat.u.r.daium durare," (Sat.u.r.day last). "Nos obteneba.n.u.s unum goalum ad nil quod non erat malum. Ego debeo nunc concludere. Ego sum vestrum fideliter Perceius Granum agrum." (Percy flattered himself he knew the correct Latin for his own name.)

He had a rush to get this work of art over to Mr Forder in time, and was considerably mortified to observe that the master did not seem at all gratified by the performance. Just like Forder! the more you laid yourself out to please him, the worse he was.

"Leave it, sir. I'll speak to you to-morrow."

"That means a licking," said Percy to himself. "I can see it in his eye. All serene. That's his way of showing his grat.i.tude."

And he went back in a very bad temper to his own room, where his comrades had arrived to greet him.

"Why ever can't you chaps be in the way when you're wanted?" prowled Percy. "There was Clapperton in here just now talking rot about the meeting next week. What do you think? He says we're not to go to it."

"Why not?"

Percy in his lucid manner tried to explain.

"All gammon," said Lickford. "If we're to be stopped going to Hall, we shall be stopped grub next."

This was an argument that went home.

"If Clapperton had made it worth our while, you know," said Cottle, "it might have been different. I don't care much about the meeting; but if I stop away for him, I'll get something for it."

This mercenary view of the subject was new to Percy, but he frankly accepted it.

"I tell you what," said he; "here, give us a pen; we'll just draw up a few conditions. If he accepts them we'll stay away; if he don't, he may hang himself before we sit out."

After much deliberation, the following charter of six points was drawn up and laid on Clapperton's table.

"On the following conditions the undersigned will stop out of Hall on October 3,--namely, to wit, viz., i.e.:--

"1. No more f.a.gging.

"2. Don't go to bed till 9:30.

"3. A study a-piece.

"4. The prefects shall be abolished. Any prefect reporting to Forder to be kicked.

"5. Except between 9:30 p.m. and 7:30 a.m. we do as we like.

"6. That the four following Cla.s.sic cads get their noses pulled; namely Wheatfield, W., D'Arcy, Ashby, and Fisher minor.

"If these are agreed to, we won't go to the meeting."

(Signed by) Wheatfield, P., M.P.

Cottle, Major-General.

Lickford, D.D.

Ramshaw minor, F.S.A.

Cash, LL.D., etcetera, etcetera.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

CORDER TO THE FRONT.

The morning of the return match with Rendlesham was damp and muggy, and so a.s.sorted well with the spirits of Fellsgarth generally.

The juniors of course were cheerful--everything came in the day's work for them--but among the seniors on either side gloom prevailed. Even Ranger, the lighthearted, was snappish, as his f.a.g discovered; and Denton, the amiable, hoped he would not, for his temper's sake, meet too many Moderns between morning and evening. The captain, though he kept up his usual show of serenity, was evidently worried. But he had no notion of giving in. No! If the School was to be thrashed let them take their thras.h.i.+ng like men, and not whine about like the "other boys."

"After all," said he to Ranger, "we may not get glory, but we needn't lose it. Only, for goodness' sake, let us keep our rows to ourselves, and not talk about them out of doors."

"Right you are!" said his friend. "I wish I had your temper. The cads!

And after the way you've treated them, too. Why, some of us thought you went out of your way to favour them."

The captain grunted, and began to throw his flannels into his bag.

"What about Rollitt?" he asked.

"No go. He's gone off for a day's fis.h.i.+ng."

The captain whistled dismally. "Then we must play a man short. There's no one else worth putting in. It's like marching to one's execution,"

he said; "I wish it was all over. But it's only just beginning."

The Moderns were gloomy too. They had taken their course, and they must stand by it now. When they came to reflect, it was not a particularly glorious one, nor did it seem to promise much by way of compensation.

They were done out of football for the rest of the term; they were reduced to a faction in Fellsgarth, and what was worse, they were secretly doubtful whether they were quite as much in the right as they tried to persuade themselves.