Boarding schools -- England -- Fiction; University of Oxford -- Fiction
Produced by Al Haines
"_The wealth of youth, we spent it well
And decently, as very few can.
And is it lost? I cannot tell:
And what is more I doubt if you can._"
HILAIRE BELLOC.
YEARS OF PLENTY
BY IVOR BROWN
LONDON
MARTIN SECKER
NUMBER FIVE JOHN STREET
ADELPHI
_First Published 1915_
CONTENTS
BOOK ONE: SCHOOL
BOOK TWO: UNIVERSITY
BOOK ONE
SCHOOL
I
Life seemed to Martin Leigh, as he gazed at the wooden walls of his
cubicle, very overwhelming: there were so many things to remember. He
had lived through his first day as a boarder at a public school and at
length he had the great joy of knowing that for nine hours there would
be nothing to find out. He seemed to have been finding things out ever
since seven o'clock that morning: finding out his form and his form
master, his desk at school and his desk in the house, his place in
chapel and his place at meals, his hours of work and his field for
play. He had moved in a world of mystery, a world of doors which had
to be opened and of locks which had to be picked. It had been
terrifying work, this probing of places.
All day Martin had been shown things by formidable people in a
hustling, inadequate way: he had been far too awed by the majesty of
his conductors to ask any questions and he realised now that he had
forgotten nearly all that he had been told. He knew that he was in the
Lower Fifth, Classical, and that his form master was a renowned terror:
he knew also that he was supposed to play football with the other small
boys of his house in a muddy-looking field some distance away. But his
place in chapel ... that had vanished entirely from his mind. And
to-morrow morning he would either have to pluck up his scanty courage
and make a fool of himself by asking one of the formidable people, or
else trust to luck and probably make an even greater fool of himself by
wandering disconsolate in the aisle. He was vague also as to the
locality of the Lower Fifth classroom: there was, indeed, one other
member of that form in the house, but he was a gigantic, moustachioed
person, a man of weight in the football world: to approach him would be
impossible. Martin came to the conclusion that not only would chapel
make him notorious for life, but that he would also get lost in school
and reach his classroom late: then he would come in blushing, amidst
the smiles of the superior. And the Terror would not rage and swear
like a gentleman: he would smile, as he had smiled that morning, and
make a little joke.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account