White Feather

"With apologies to gent opposite," said Clowes, "I must say I don'tthink much of the team.""Don't apologise to _me_," said Allardyce disgustedly, as hefilled the teapot, "I think they're rotten.""They ought to have got into form by now, too," said Trevor. "It's notas if this was the first game of the term.""First game!" Allardyce laughed shortly. "Why, we've only got a coupleof club matches and the return match with Ripton to end the season. Itis about time they got into form, as you say."Clowes stared pensively into the fire.

　　"They struck me," he said, "as the sort of team who'd get into formsomewhere in the middle of the cricket season.""That's about it," said Allardyce. "Try those biscuits, Trevor. They'reabout the only good thing left in the place.""School isn't what it was?" inquired Trevor, plunging a hand into thetin that stood on the floor beside him.

　　"No," said Allardyce, "not only in footer but in everything. The placeseems absolutely rotten. It's bad enough losing all our matches, ornearly all. Did you hear that Ripton took thirty-seven points off uslast term? And we only just managed to beat Greenburgh by a try tonil.""We got thirty points last year," he went on. "Thirty-three, andforty-two the year before. Why, we've always simply walked them. It'san understood thing that we smash them. And this year they held us allthe time, and it was only a fluke that we scored at all. Their backmiskicked, and let Barry in.""Barry struck me as the best of the outsides today," said Clowes. "He'sheavier than he was, and faster.""He's all right," agreed Allardyce. "If only the centres would feedhim, we might do something occasionally. But did you ever see such apair of rotters?""The man who was marking me certainly didn't seem particularlybrilliant. I don't even know his name. He didn't do anything at footerin my time," said Trevor.

　　"He's a chap called Attell. He wasn't here with you. He came after thesummer holidays. I believe he was sacked from somewhere. He's no good,but there's nobody else. Colours have been simply a gift this year toanyone who can do a thing. Only Barry and myself left from last year'steam. I never saw such a clearance as there was after the summer term.""Where are the boys of the Old Brigade?" sighed Clowes.

　　"I don't know. I wish they were here," said Allardyce.

　　Trevor and Clowes had come down, after the Easter term had been inprogress for a fortnight, to play for an Oxford A team against theschool. The match had resulted in an absurdly easy victory for thevisitors by over forty points. Clowes had scored five tries off his ownbat, and Trevor, if he had not fed his wing so conscientiously, wouldprobably have scored an equal number. As it was, he had got throughtwice, and also dropped a goal. The two were now having a late tea withAllardyce in his study. Allardyce had succeeded Trevor as Captain ofFootball at Wrykyn, and had found the post anything but a sinecure.

　　For Wrykyn had fallen for the time being on evil days. It wasexperiencing the reaction which so often takes place in a school in theyear following a season of exceptional athletic prosperity. With Trevoras captain of football, both the Ripton matches had been won, and alsothree out of the four other school matches. In cricket the eleven hadhad an even finer record, winning all their school matches, andlikewise beating the M.C.C. and Old Wrykinians. It was too early toprophesy concerning the fortunes of next term's cricket team, but, ifthey were going to resemble the fifteen, Wrykyn was doomed to the worstathletic year it had experienced for a decade.

　　"It's a bit of a come-down after last season, isn't it?" resumedAllardyce, returning to his sorrows. It was a relief to him to discusshis painful case without restraint.

　　"We were a fine team last year," agreed Clowes, "and especially strongon the left wing. By the way, I see you've moved Barry across.""Yes. Attell can't pass much, but he passes better from right to leftthan from left to right; so, Barry being our scoring man, I shifted himacross. The chap on the other wing, Stanning, isn't bad at times. Doyou remember him? He's in Appleby's. Then Drummond's useful at half.""Jolly useful," said Trevor. "I thought he would be. I recommended youlast year to keep your eye on him.""Decent chap, Drummond," said Clowes.

　　"About the only one there is left in the place," observed Allardycegloomily.

　　"Our genial host," said Clowes, sawing at the cake, "appears to havethat tired feeling. He seems to have lost that _joie de vivre_ ofhis, what?""It must be pretty sickening," said Trevor sympathetically. "I'm glad Iwasn't captain in a bad year.""The rummy thing is that the worse they are, the more side they stickon. You see chaps who wouldn't have been in the third in a good yearwalking about in first fifteen blazers, and first fifteen scarves, andfirst fifteen stockings, and sweaters with first fifteen colours roundthe edges. I wonder they don't tattoo their faces with first fifteencolours.""It would improve some of them," said Clowes.

　　Allardyce resumed his melancholy remarks. "But, as I was saying, it'snot only that the footer's rotten. That you can't help, I suppose. It'sthe general beastliness of things that I bar. Rows with the town, forinstance. We've been having them on and off ever since you left. Andit'll be worse now, because there's an election coming off soon. Areyou fellows stopping for the night in the town? If so, I should adviseyou to look out for yourselves.""Thanks," said Clowes. "I shouldn't like to see Trevor sand-bagged. Norindeed, should I--for choice--care to be sand-bagged myself. But, as ithappens, the good Donaldson is putting us up, so we escape the perilsof the town.

　　"Everybody seems so beastly slack now," continued Allardyce. "It'sconsidered the thing. You're looked on as an awful blood if you say youhaven't done a stroke of work for a week. I shouldn't mind that so muchif they were some good at anything. But they can't do a thing. Thefooter's rotten, the gymnasium six is made up of kids an inch high--weshall probably be about ninetieth at the Public Schools'

　　Competition--and there isn't any one who can play racquets for nuts.

　　The only thing that Wrykyn'll do this year is to get the Light-Weightsat Aldershot. Drummond ought to manage that. He won the Feathers lasttime. He's nearly a stone heavier now, and awfully good. But he's theonly man we shall send up, I expect. Now that O'Hara and Moriarty areboth gone, he's the only chap we have who's up to Aldershot form. Andnobody else'll take the trouble to practice. They're all too slack.""In fact," said Clowes, getting up, "as was only to be expected, theschool started going to the dogs directly I left. We shall have to bepushing on now, Allardyce. We promised to look in on Seymour before wewent to bed. Friend let us away.""Good night," said Allardyce.

　　"What you want," said Clowes solemnly, "is a liver pill. You arelooking on life too gloomily. Take a pill. Let there be no stint. Taketwo. Then we shall hear your merry laugh ringing through the oldcloisters once more. Buck up and be a bright and happy lad, Allardyce.""Take more than a pill to make me that," growled that souredfootballer.

　　Mr Seymour's views on the school resembled those of Allardyce. Wrykyn,in his opinion, was suffering from a reaction.

　　"It's always the same," he said, "after a very good year. Boys leave,and it's hard to fill their places. I must say I did not expect quitesuch a clearing out after the summer. We have had bad luck in that way.

　　Maurice, for instance, and Robinson both ought to have had another yearat school. It was quite unexpected, their leaving. They would have madeall the difference to the forwards. You must have somebody to lead thepack who has had a little experience of first fifteen matches.""But even then" said Clowes, "they oughtn't to be so rank as they werethis afternoon. They seemed such slackers.""I'm afraid that's the failing of the school just now," agreed MrSeymour. "They don't play themselves out. They don't put just that lastounce into their work which makes all the difference."Clowes thought of saying that, to judge by appearances, they did notput in even the first ounce; but refrained. However low an opinion agames' master may have--and even express--of his team, he does not likepeople to agree too cordially with his criticisms.

　　"Allardyce seems rather sick about it," said Trevor.

　　"I am sorry for Allardyce. It is always unpleasant to be the onlysurvivor of an exceptionally good team. He can't forget last year'smatches, and suffers continual disappointments because the present teamdoes not play up to the same form.""He was saying something about rows with the town," said Trevor, aftera pause.

　　"Yes, there has certainly been some unpleasantness lately. It is thepenalty we pay for being on the outskirts of a town. Four years out offive nothing happens. But in the fifth, when the school has got alittle out of hand--""Oh, then it really _has_ got out of hand?" asked Clowes.

　　"Between ourselves, yes," admitted Mr Seymour.

　　"What sort of rows?" asked Trevor.

　　Mr Seymour couldn't explain exactly. Nothing, as it were, definite--asyet. No actual complaints so far. But still--well, trouble--yes,trouble.

　　"For instance," he said, "a boy in my house, Linton--you rememberhim?--is moving in society at this moment with a swollen lip and minusa front tooth. Of course, I know nothing about it, but I fancy he gotinto trouble in the town. That is merely a straw which shows how thewind is blowing, but if you lived on the spot you would see more what Imean. There is trouble in the air. And now that this election is comingon, I should not wonder if things came to a head. I can't remember asingle election in Wrykyn when there was not disorder in the town. Andif the school is going to join in, as it probably will, I shall not besorry when the holidays come. I know the headmaster is only waiting foran excuse to put the town out of bounds.'

　　"But the kids have always had a few rows on with that school in theHigh Street--what's it's name--St Something?" said Clowes.

　　"Jude's," supplied Trevor.

　　"St Jude's!" said Mr Seymour. "Have they? I didn't know that.""Oh yes. I don't know how it started, but it's been going on for two orthree years now. It's a School House feud really, but Dexter's aremixed up in it somehow. If a School House fag goes down town he runslike an antelope along the High Street, unless he's got one or twofriends with him. I saved dozens of kids from destruction when I was atschool. The St Jude's fellows lie in wait, and dash out on them. I usedto find School House fags fighting for their lives in back alleys. Theenemy fled on my approach. My air of majesty overawed them.""But a junior school feud matters very little," said Mr Seymour. "Yousay it has been going on for three years; and I have never heard of ittill now. It is when the bigger fellows get mixed up with the town thatwe have to interfere. I wish the headmaster would put the place out ofbounds entirely until the election is over. Except at election time,the town seems to go to sleep.""That's what we ought to be doing," said Clowes to Trevor. "I think wehad better be off now, sir. We promised Mr Donaldson to be in some timetonight.""It's later than I thought," said Mr Seymour. "Good night, Clowes. Howmany tries was it that you scored this afternoon? Five? I wish you werestill here, to score them for instead of against us. Good night,Trevor. I was glad to see they tried you for Oxford, though you didn'tget your blue. You'll be in next year all right. Good night."The two Old Wrykinians walked along the road towards Donaldson's. Itwas a fine night, but misty.

　　"Jove, I'm quite tired," said Clowes. "Hullo!""What's up?"They were opposite Appleby's at the moment. Clowes drew him into theshadow of the fence.

　　"There's a chap breaking out. I saw him shinning down a rope. Let'swait, and see who it is."A moment later somebody ran softly through the gateway and disappeareddown the road that led to the town.

　　"Who was it?" said Trevor. "I couldn't see.""I spotted him all right. It was that chap who was marking me today,Stanning. Wonder what he's after. Perhaps he's gone to tar the statue,like O'Hara. Rather a sportsman.""Rather a silly idiot," said Trevor. "I hope he gets caught.""You always were one of those kind sympathetic chaps," said Clowes.

　　"Come on, or Donaldson'll be locking us out."