You are here
قراءة كتاب The Cock-House at Fellsgarth
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
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 fag. 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.
Canvassing.
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 masse, without needless delay, and to that end Ranger had summoned the assistance 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 Classics meant to keep their house Cock-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 fag, 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 brushing his hair; “do you mean to say you don’t know that it’s only cads who sneak about one another?”
“But you asked me.”
“Of course I did, and made sure you wouldn’t let out. I hope they’ll give you a few more lively nights, to teach you better.”
The young brother’s lips gave an ominous quiver at this unfeeling speech, and he horrified Fisher major by betraying imminent symptoms of tears.
“Look here, Joey,” said the senior, rather more soothingly, “you’ve made a jolly bad start, and that can’t be helped. The mistake you made is in thinking you know everything, whereas you’re about as green as they make them. Why ever do you pretend not to be? Look at that other new kid—the other one who sang. He’s green too; but, bless you, it’s no crime, and all the fellows take to him because he doesn’t put on side like you. Why, that song you sang—oh, my stars!—what on earth put that rot into your head?”
This finished up poor Fisher minor. The recollection of his performance last night was more than he could stand, and he began to whimper.
“Come, old chap,” said Fisher major, kindly, patting him on the shoulder; “perhaps it’s not all your fault. I suppose I ought to have given you a leg-up, and prevented you making a fool of yourself. You’ll get on right enough if you don’t swagger. And in any case, don’t blubber.”
“I shall never get on here,” said the new boy. “All the fellows are against me. Besides—I didn’t know it was wrong; and—oh, Tom?—I lent a fellow half a crown, and now I’ve nothing to pay for the clubs!”
Fisher major laughed.
“I thought from your tones you were going to confess a murder, at least. You’d better look alive and get the half-crown back.”
“That’s just it. I lent it in the dark to a—a Modern chap; and I don’t know his