Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
It is due to the stouter of these two young gentlemen to say that the
beating of his heart, and the general state of amaze in which he found
himself, did not interfere greatly with his appetite. He had brought
that accomplishment, if no other, from home, and not being engaged like
those around him in conversation, he contrived to put away really a most
respectable meal. Indeed, his exploits in this direction had already
become a matter for remark among his neighbours.
"It's all right," said one of the juniors, who answered to the name of
D'Arcy; "his buttons are sewn on with wire. They'll hold."
"I suppose he's made of gutta-percha," observed another. "He'll stretch
a little more before he's done."
"I say, what a bill he's running up! By the way, what do they charge
for this kind of pudding?"
"It's a dear kind--and nothing like as good as the sort we get for
regular. I never could understand why they make fellows shell out for
what they eat first-night."
"It _is_ a swindle," said D'Arcy, solemnly. "I've had to make a very
light meal, because I've only half a crown, and I'm afraid there won't
be much change left out of that."
The new boy was just laying butter on a roll, and preparing to close the
proceedings of the meal with a good square turn of bread and butter.
But as D'Arcy's words fell on his ears he suddenly stopped short and
looked up.
"I say," said he, "isn't this dinner charged in the house bill then?"
D'Arcy laughed derisively.
"Well, you most be a muff. Don't you know school doesn't begin till to-
morrow? They give you dinner to-night, but you're not obliged to eat
it."
The new boy took a gulp of water, which he calculated would be gratis
under any circumstances, and then gasped--"I say, I didn't know that."
D'Arcy looked solemn. "Jolly awkward," said he; "what have you had?"
Whereupon Master Ashby, the new boy, entered on a detailed confession,
which D'Arcy, evidently an expert at mental arithmetic, "totted up" as
he went along.
"How many times pudding did you say?" he asked towards the end, "Twice
and a bit."
"Three and ten; I dare say he won't be stiff about the bit, three and
ten; and that roll and butter--"
"I've not eaten them."
"No, but you've touched them. You'll be charged, unless you can get a
fellow to take them off your hands."
"Will _you_ have them?" asked Ashby.
Whereupon there was a laugh at _D'Arcy's_ expense, which annoyed that
young gentleman.
"I don't want your second-hand grub. You'd better take it round and see
what you can get for it."
Ashby looked at the bread, and then glanced round the table.
"No," said he, "I'll have it and pay for it, if it comes to that."
"That'll be four bob."
Ashby gave a gulp of despair.
"I've not got so much."
"Then you'll get in a jolly row."
"Could you lend me one and six, I say?" asked the new boy.
Again D'Arcy got the worst of the laugh.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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