On the Wednesday after the Games Committee's activities in the library, Ferrers banged into Betteridge's study, his arms laden with books. There was a Stoics meeting on the next Saturday, and the card drawn up at the beginning of the term announced that there would be a reading of _Arms and the Man_, by Bernard Shaw. But Ferrers, who was now president, never took any notice of the programme, which he invariably altered a day or two before the meeting. This imposed a considerable strain on those who had to get up fresh parts and prepare different speeches at a second's notice. But as the alterations were nearly always an improvement no one minded. "Sorry, Betteridge--had to change Stoics' thing. Just picked up this--_Younger Generation_, by Stanley Houghton--ordered fifteen copies from Sidgwick & Jackson--good publishers. Do you know them? I've marked our parts--here they are--no more time. Good-night." He was gone in a second. And the unfortunate secretary was left with the lot of distributing copies and drawing up fresh notices. It was just on lock-up, so there was no time to do anything till the next day. He settled himself down to read the play. In a very short while he was thoroughly engrossed; by the time he had reached the end of the first act he had no doubt that Saturday would witness the most successful meeting of the Stoics since the historic occasion when Macdonald and Rogers had been persuaded to speak on opposite sides on "Trade Unionism," and Rogers had been most gloriously routed. Betteridge went in search of Tester and Gordon. "Come up to my study and read a play Ferrers has got hold of for the Stoics. It's glorious stuff." "All right," said Gordon. "I will go and fetch Rudd." "For God's sake, don't bring that outsider." "Oh, hell, why not? He is quite respectable; and, after all, he is one of the best of our regular readers." "All right then: fetch him along." Since their scandalous ramble Gordon had become more or less friends with Rudd, and had to a large extent helped to make his life more bearable. The four sat silent, reading the play. There was occasionally a suppressed laugh: otherwise no one spoke at all. In under an hour they had all finished. "Jolly good," said Gordon. "I do like seeing this younger generation up against the rotten conventions of the mid-Victorian era." "Deal gently with them," murmured Betteridge. "Their horsehair arm-chairs have stood the test of time very well." "Too well: but their Puritan ideas are in the melting-pot now. Their day is over." "You know I am not sure that the Stoics is the right audience for a play like this," said Tester. "Good heavens, man," protested Gordon, "you don't think it would corrupt their morals, do you?"