What a go is life!
Let us examine the case of Jackson, of Dexter's. O'Hara, who had leftDexter's at the end of the summer term, had once complained to Clowesof the manner in which his house-master treated him, and Clowes hadremarked in his melancholy way that it was nothing less than a breachof the law that Dexter should persist in leading a fellow a dog's lifewithout a dog licence for him.
That was precisely how Jackson felt on the subject.
Things became definitely unbearable on the day after Sheen's interviewwith Mr Joe Bevan.
'Twas morn--to begin at the beginning--and Jackson sprang from hislittle cot to embark on the labours of the day. Unfortunately, hesprang ten minutes too late, and came down to breakfast about the timeof the second slice of bread and marmalade. Result, a hundred lines.
Proceeding to school, he had again fallen foul of his house-master--inwhose form he was--over a matter of unprepared Livy. As a matter offact, Jackson _had_ prepared the Livy. Or, rather, he had notabsolutely _prepared_ it; but he had meant to. But it was MrTemplar's preparation, and Mr Templar was short-sighted. Any one willunderstand, therefore, that it would have been simply chucking away thegifts of Providence if he had not gone on with the novel which he hadbeen reading up till the last moment before prep-time, and had broughtalong with him accidentally, as it were. It was a book called _ASpoiler of Men_, by Richard Marsh, and there was a repulsive crime onnearly every page. It was Hot Stuff. Much better than Livy....
Lunch Score--Two hundred lines.
During lunch he had the misfortune to upset a glass of water. Pureaccident, of course, but there it was, don't you know, all over thetable.
Mr Dexter had called him--(a) clumsy;(b) a pig;and had given him(1) Advice--"You had better be careful, Jackson".
(2) A present--"Two hundred lines, Jackson".
On the match being resumed at two o'clock, with four hundred lines onthe score-sheet, he had played a fine, free game during afternoonschool, and Mr Dexter, who objected to fine, free games--or, indeed,any games--during school hours, had increased the total to six hundred,when stumps were drawn for the day.
So on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, when he should have been outin the field cheering the house-team on to victory against the SchoolHouse, Jackson sat in the junior day-room at Dexter's copying outportions of Virgil, Aeneid Two.
To him, later on in the afternoon, when he had finished half his task,entered Painter, with the news that Dexter's had taken thirty pointsoff the School House just after half-time.
"Mopped them up," said the terse and epigrammatic Painter. "Made ringsround them. Haven't you finished yet? Well, chuck it, and come out.""What's on?" asked Jackson.
"We're going to have a boat race.""Pile it on.""We are, really. Fact. Some of these School House kids are awfully sickabout the match, and challenged us. That chap Tomlin thinks he can row.
"He can't row for nuts," said Jackson. "He doesn't know which end ofthe oar to shove into the water. I've seen cats that could row betterthan Tomlin.""That's what I told him. At least, I said he couldn't row for toffee,so he said all right, I bet I can lick you, and I said I betted hecouldn't, and he said all right, then, let's try, and then the otherchaps wanted to join in, so we made an inter-house thing of it. And Iwant you to come and stroke us."Jackson hesitated. Mr Dexter, setting the lines on Friday, hadcertainly said that they were to be shown up "tomorrow evening." He hadsaid it very loud and clear. Still, in a case like this....After all,by helping to beat the School House on the river he would be givingDexter's a leg-up. And what more could the man want?
"Right ho," said Jackson.
Down at the School boat-house the enemy were already afloat whenPainter and Jackson arrived.
"Buck up," cried the School House crew.
Dexter's embarked, five strong. There was room for two on each seat.
Jackson shared the post of stroke with Painter. Crowle steered.
"Ready?" asked Tomlin from the other boat.
"Half a sec.," said Jackson. "What's the course?""Oh, don't you know _that_ yet? Up to the town, round the islandjust below the bridge,--the island with the croquet ground on it,_you_ know--and back again here. Ready?""In a jiffy. Look here, Crowle, remember about steering. You pull theright line if you want to go to the right and the other if you want togo to the left.""All right," said the injured Crowle. "As if I didn't know that.""Thought I'd mention it. It's your fault. Nobody could tell by lookingat you that you knew anything except how to eat. Ready, you chaps?""When I say 'Three,'" said Tomlin.
It was a subject of heated discussion between the crews for weeksafterwards whether Dexter's boat did or did not go off at the word"Two." Opinions were divided on the topic. But it was certain thatJackson and his men led from the start. Pulling a good, splashingstroke which had drenched Crowle to the skin in the first thirty yards,Dexter's boat crept slowly ahead. By the time the island was reached,it led by a length. Encouraged by success, the leaders redoubled theiralready energetic efforts. Crowle sat in a shower-bath. He was evenmoved to speech about it.
"When you've finished," said Crowle.
Jackson, intent upon repartee, caught a crab, and the School House drewlevel again. The two boats passed the island abreast.
Just here occurred one of those unfortunate incidents. Both crews hadquickened their stroke until the boats had practically been convertedinto submarines, and the rival coxswains were observing bitterly tospace that this was jolly well the last time they ever let themselvesin for this sort of thing, when round the island there hove in sight aflotilla of boats, directly in the path of the racers.
There were three of them, and not even the spray which played over themlike a fountain could prevent Crowle from seeing that they were mannedby Judies. Even on the river these outcasts wore their mortar-boards.
"Look out!" shrieked Crowle, pulling hard on his right line. "Stoprowing, you chaps. We shall be into them."At the same moment the School House oarsmen ceased pulling. The twoboats came to a halt a few yards from the enemy.
"What's up?" panted Jackson, crimson from his exertions. "Hullo, it'sthe Judies!"Tomlin was parleying with the foe.
"Why the dickens can't you keep out of the way? Spoiling our race. Waittill we get ashore."But the Judies, it seemed, were not prepared to wait even for thatshort space of time. A miscreant, larger than the common run of Judy,made a brief, but popular, address to his men.
"Splash them!" he said.
Instantly, amid shrieks of approval, oars began to strike the water,and the water began to fly over the Wrykyn boats, which were nowsurrounded. The latter were not slow to join battle with the sameweapons. Homeric laughter came from the bridge above. The town bridgewas a sort of loafers' club, to which the entrance fee was a screw oftobacco, and the subscription an occasional remark upon the weather.
Here gathered together day by day that section of the populace whichresented it when they "asked for employment, and only got workinstead". From morn till eve they lounged against the balustrades,surveying nature, and hoping it would be kind enough to give them someexcitement that day. An occasional dog-fight found in them an eageraudience. No runaway horse ever bored them. A broken-down motor-car wasmeat and drink to them. They had an appetite for every spectacle.
When, therefore, the water began to fly from boat to boat, kind-heartedmen fetched their friends from neighbouring public houses and cranedwith them over the parapet, observing the sport and commenting thereon.
It was these comments that attracted Mr Dexter's attention. When,cycling across the bridge, he found the south side of it entirelycongested, and heard raucous voices urging certain unseen "little 'uns"now to "go it" and anon to "vote for Pedder", his curiosity wasaroused. He dismounted and pushed his way through the crowd until hegot a clear view of what was happening below.
He was just in time to see the most stirring incident of the fight. Thebiggest of the Judy boats had been propelled by the current nearer andnearer to the Dexter Argo. No sooner was it within distance thanJackson, dropping his oar, grasped the side and pulled it towards him.
The two boats crashed together and rocked violently as the crews rosefrom their seats and grappled with one another. A hurricane of laughterand applause went up from the crowd upon the bridge.
The next moment both boats were bottom upwards and drifting sluggishlydown towards the island, while the crews swam like rats for the otherboats.
Every Wrykinian had to learn to swim before he was allowed on theriver; so that the peril of Jackson and his crew was not extreme: andit was soon speedily evident that swimming was also part of the Judycurriculum, for the shipwrecked ones were soon climbing drippingly onboard the surviving ships, where they sat and made puddles, andshrieked defiance at their antagonists.
This was accepted by both sides as the end of the fight, and thecombatants parted without further hostilities, each fleet believingthat the victory was with them.
And Mr Dexter, mounting his bicycle again, rode home to tell theheadmaster.
That evening, after preparation, the headmaster held a reception. Amongdistinguished visitors were Jackson, Painter, Tomlin, Crowle, and sixothers.
On the Monday morning the headmaster issued a manifesto to the schoolafter prayers. He had, he said, for some time entertained the idea ofplacing the town out of bounds. He would do so now. No boy, unless hewas a prefect, would be allowed till further notice to cross the townbridge. As regarded the river, for the future boating Wrykinians mustconfine their attentions to the lower river. Nobody must take a boatup-stream. The school boatman would have strict orders to see that thisrule was rigidly enforced. Any breach of these bounds would, heconcluded, be punished with the utmost severity.
The headmaster of Wrykyn was not a hasty man. He thought before he puthis foot down. But when he did, he put it down heavily.
Sheen heard the ultimatum with dismay. He was a law-abiding person, andhere he was, faced with a dilemma that made it necessary for him tochoose between breaking school rules of the most important kind, orpulling down all the castles he had built in the air before the mortarhad had time to harden between their stones.
He wished he could talk it over with somebody. But he had nobody withwhom he could talk over anything. He must think it out for himself.
He spent the rest of the day thinking it out, and by nightfall he hadcome to his decision.
Even at the expense of breaking bounds and the risk of being caught atit, he must keep his appointment with Joe Bevan. It would mean going tothe town landing-stage for a boat, thereby breaking bounds twice over.
But it would have to be done.
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