The Cock-House at Fellsgarth Part 4

Oh no! Do you guess I skate on ice in May?

Oh no! Do you think I can't tell what is what? Do you think I don't know pepper's hot? Or whereabouts my i's to dot?

Oh no, no rot!

As he concluded, Fisher minor summoned up enough resolution to shake his head and lay one finger to his nose in the most approved style of comedy, and then awaited the result.

Fellows apparently did not take in that the song was at an end, for they neither cheered nor smiled. So Fisher minor made an elaborate bow to show it was all over. The result was the same. A gloomy silence prevailed, in the midst of which the singer, never more perplexed in his life, descended from the table and proceeded to look out for the congratulations of his admirers.

"Beautiful song," said Wally, still mopping his face.

"I never thought I could be so touched by anything. We generally get comic songs on first-night."

"This _is_ a comic one," said Fisher minor.

"Go on," said Wheatfield; "tell that to D'Arcy here--he'll believe you-- eh, D'Arcy?" D'Arcy looked mysterious.

"It's no laughing matter, young Wheatfield," said he, in a loud whisper, evidently intended for the eager ears of Fisher minor. "I heard Yorke just now ask Denton if he thought Fisher's minor was all there. Denton seemed quite cut up, and said he hadn't known it before, but it must be a great family trouble to the Fishers. It accounted for Fisher major's frequent low spirits. You know," continued D'Arcy confidentially, "I can't help myself thinking it's a little rough on Fisher major for his people to send a minor who's afflicted like this to Fellsgarth. They might at least have put him on the Modern side. He'd have been better understood there."

This speech Fisher minor listened to with growing perplexity. Was D'Arcy in jest or earnest? He seemed to be in earnest, and the serious faces of his listeners looked like it too. Had the captain really made that remark to Denton? Suppose there _was_ something in it! Suppose, without his knowing, he was really a little queer in his head! His people might have told him of it. And Fisher major, his brother--even he hadn't heard of it! Oh dear! oh dear! How was he ever to recover his reputation for sanity? Whatever induced him to sing that song?

Poor Fisher minor devoutly wished himself home again, within reach of his mother's soothing voice and his sisters' smiles. _They_ understood him. These fellows didn't. _They_ knew he was not an idiot. These fellows didn't.

Further reflection was cut short by a loud call to order and cheers, as Yorke, the captain, rose to his feet.

Every one liked Yorke. As captain of the School even the Moderns looked up to him, and were forced to admit that he was a credit to Fellsgarth.

In Wakefield's, his own house, he was naturally an idol. Prodigious stories were afloat as to his wisdom and his prowess. Examiners were reported to have rent their clothes in despair at his answers; and at football, rumour had it that once, in one of the out-matches against Ridgmoor, he had run the ball down the field with six of the other side on his back, and finished up with a drop at the goal from thirty yards.

But his popularity in his own house depended less on these exploits than on his general good-nature and incorruptible fairness. He scorned to hit an opponent when he was down, and yet he would knock down a friend as soon as a foe if the credit of the School required it. A few, indeed, there were whose habit it was to sneer at Yorke for being what they called "a saint." The captain of Fellsgarth would have been the last to claim such a t.i.tle for himself; yet those who knew him best knew that in all he did, even in the common concerns of daily school life, he relied on the guidance and help of a Divine Friend, and was not ashamed to own his faith.

The one drawback to his character in the eyes of certain of his fellow- prefects and others at Wakefield's was that in the standing feud between Cla.s.sics and Moderns he would take no part. He demanded the allegiance of all parties on behalf of the School, and if any man refused it, Yorke was the sort of person who would make it his business to know the reason why.

Now as he got up and waited for the cheers to cease, no one could deny that he wasn't as fine a captain as Wakefield's could expect to see for many a day. And for the first time some of those who even feared him realised with a qualm that this was the last "first-night" on which he would be there to make the usual speech.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we are all glad to be back in the old place,"

(cheers). "At any rate I am," (loud cheers). "On first-night, as you know, we always combine business with pleasure. We have just had the pleasure," (laughter, in the midst of which Fisher minor p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and wondered if his song wasn't going to be appreciated after all).

"The lambs have bleated and done their level best, I'm sure," (renewed laughter, and cries of "How now?"). "Now for the business. Gentlemen, the house clubs demand your support." (Fisher minor turned deadly green as he remembered the Modern boy and his half-crown. He looked round wildly for Ashby, but Ashby was standing between Wally and D'Arcy, and the proximity was not encouraging for Fisher's purpose. The idea occurred to him of appealing to his brother. But Fisher major, pen in hand, sat at the receipt of custom, and he dare not approach). "We hope there will be no s.h.i.+rking. Every fellow in the house is expected to back up the clubs. If the House clubs are not kept up to the mark, the School clubs are sure to go down," (cheers). "We don't ask much. The seniors pay 5 s.h.i.+llings, the middle-boys 3 s.h.i.+llings 6 pence, and the juniors 2 s.h.i.+llings 6 pence." (Fisher minor glanced frantically in the direction of the door, and began to edge that way.) "Now, gentlemen, one word more. You know, last term, there was a lot of bad blood between Cla.s.sics and Moderns," (great cheers and three groans for the Moderns).

"Of course it's open to any idiot who likes to make a fool of himself, and quarrel with anybody he likes. He's welcome to do it up to a certain point, if it gives him pleasure. But I want to say this--and I'd say it if the whole of the school was here--that if these rows once begin to interfere with the honour of the School in sports or anything else, as they nearly did last term, the fellows who indulge in them will be dropped on pretty heavily, no matter what side or what house they belong to."

The captain looked so uncommonly like meaning what he said, that D'Arcy, who had already made an appointment to fight Lickford, a Modern boy, at the Three Oaks before breakfast to-morrow, quailed under his eye, and wondered if he could with dignity "scratch" the engagement.

A general movement towards the table at which Fisher major sat with his pen and account-book followed the captain's speech. Of all the company present, only one failed to enrol himself. He was a new boy called Fisher minor, who, evidently worn out by the fatigues of the day and unversed in the etiquette of first-night, had sought the dame at a somewhat early hour, and received her permission to go to bed.

Such at least was that lady's version when Fisher major, having missed his minor, made inquiries respecting his absence.

"Best thing he could do, to make himself scarce, after such a performance," said the elder brother to Denton, who accompanied him.

"Yes, indeed, I envy Ranger his f.a.g. It's a lucky thing we bagged the other one in time."

"The young donkey couldn't be in better hands," said Fisher; "but I say, Den, didn't the captain come down rather heavy with his thunder to- night? What does it all mean?"

"Bows, I expect," said Denton. "He's not going to stand what went on last term, and I'm jolly glad of it. We must back him up."

"If he means I'm not to feel inclined to kick Dangle whenever I see him, I can't promise him much."

"Dangle's a good quarter-mile man, and a good long-stop. If your kicking him prevents his playing for the School, you'll have to mind your eye, my boy. That's what he means."

"Oh!" grunted Fisher major, "I suppose the rows will begin to-morrow, when we elect the officers for the School clubs. Those fellows are sure to want to stick their own men in."

"At any rate you're safe enough for treasurer, old man. But come, I'm dead sleepy to-night. Time enough for rows to-morrow and the next day."

CHAPTER THREE.

CANVa.s.sING.

When Fisher major woke early next morning he had the curious sensation of something on his mind without knowing what it was.

He was not out of sorts. The private supper of which he and Denton and Ridgway had partaken last night in Ranger's study had been wholesome, if miscellaneous. Ranger's people had given him a hamper to bring back, containing a good many good things--cake, biscuits, potted meats, jam, Worcester sauce, pickles, coffee, and other groceries intended to diversify the breakfasts of the half. By some error of judgment this valuable article of luggage had come from town in the van, where it had apparently been placed at the very bottom of the baggage. The consequence was, that when it came to be opened, its several ingredients were found to have got loose, and fused together in a most hopeless way.

Jam, and pickles, and Liebig's extract, and moist sugar were indistinguishable. The only thing seemed to be to attack the concoction _en ma.s.se_, without needless delay, and to that end Ranger had summoned the a.s.sistance of his friends and neighbours. Fisher major was unable to attribute any part of the weight on his mind to this perfectly wholesome and homely refreshment.

What was it? It was not Denton. He had come back as loyal and festive as ever, threatening to work hard this half, and determined to have Fisher major as his guest at the rectory on the lake for the Christmas vac.

Nor was it the captain's speech last night that bothered him. True, it was not altogether conciliatory to those, who, like Fisher major, were resolved to have no truce with the enemy. Of course it was the right thing for Yorke to say. But Yorke knew, as well as anybody, that the Cla.s.sics meant to keep their house c.o.c.k-House at Fellsgarth.

Nor was it the accounts; although Fisher minor had to own to himself he was not a grand hand at finance, and that if he was appointed treasurer of the School clubs, as well as of his House clubs, he would have his work cut out for him to keep both funds clear and solvent.

What then was it? His young brother? He supposed it must be. The young donkey had made a bad beginning at Fellsgarth--which was bad enough. But had the elder brother done quite the decent thing in half disowning him, and letting him run on his fate in the way he had? A little brotherly backing up, a word or two of warning, and, if needs be, a little timely intimidation, might have made all the difference to the youngster, and would not have done the senior much harm.

Yes; it was this precious minor of his who was on Fisher major's mind.

It was too late, of course, to pick up the milk already spilled. But it might be worth while to give him a word of admonition as to his future conduct.

With this view he sent Ashby (who, with all the alacrity of a brand-new f.a.g, punctually presented himself for orders before getting-up bell had ceased ringing) to summon Fisher minor to his brother's room.

"Well, kid," said the elder brother, commencing his toilet, "how did you get on? Sleep well?"

"Middling," said Fisher minor. "Some of the fellows had put pepper on the blankets, and it got into my eyes--that's all."

"It's a good job they did nothing worse."

"Well," said Fisher minor, who was evidently in a limp state, and had not at all enjoyed his night, "they _did_ tease a good deal."

"Humph--who did!"

"Well, there was that boy they call--"

"Stop," said Fisher major, turning round fiercely in the middle of brus.h.i.+ng his hair; "do you mean to say you don't know that it's only cads who sneak about one another?"