Having spent most of his life in the company of grown men, he
anticipated some difficulty in rubbing along with boys of his own age.
Master Philip at this period of his career was surprisingly grownup: in
fact he was within a dangerously short distance of becoming a prig. But
he went to school in time. In three weeks the latent instincts of
boyhood had fully developed, and Philip played Rugby football, indulged
in unwholesome and clandestine cookery, rioted noisily when he should
have been quiescent, and generally tumbled in and out of scrapes as
happily and fortuitously as if he had been born into a vigorous family
of ten.
He achieved a respectable position for himself among his fellows, but
upon a qualification which would have surprised an older generation. The
modern schoolboy is essentially a product of the age he lives in, and
the gods he worships are constantly adding to their number. Of what does
his Pantheon consist? Foremost, of course, comes the athlete. He is a
genuine and permanent deity. His worshippers behold him every day,
excelling at football and cricket, lifting incredible weights in the
dormitory before going to bed, or running a mile in under five minutes.
His qualifications are written on his brow, and up he goes to the
pinnacle of Olympus, where he endures from age to age. Second comes the
boy whose qualifications are equally good, but have to be accepted to a
certain extent upon hearsay--the sportsman. A reputed good shot or
straight rider to hounds is admitted to Olympus _ex officio_, and is
greatly in request, in the rôle of Sir Oracle, during those interminable
discussions--corresponding to the symposia in which those of riper years
indulge in clubs and mess-rooms--which invariably arise when the rank
and file of the House are assembled round a common-room fire, in the
interval, say, between tea and preparation.
There are other and lesser lights. The wag, for instance. The scholar,
as such, has no seat in the sun. His turn comes later in life, when the
athletes are licking stamps and running errands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account