on board the boat, when, taking the yoke-linesin a knowing manner, he steered away for Bargemen's Bridge, where thestream once more joins the river.
Reginald at once threw himself into boating most zealously. He wasalways on the water, practising away, and soon became as proficient withoars as with sculls--his great ambition being to belong to an eight-oar.He and Power took a lock-up between them, for which they paid fivepounds; and though they liked it very much, they agreed that it was nothalf so much fun as their boating in old days at Osberton, with TobyTubb as coxswain. Reginald did not neglect cricket, however; but as hewas still numbered among the Lower boys he could only belong to theSixpenny Club.
The playing-fields at Eton are divided between different clubs. Theboys subscribe to one or the other according to their position in theschool. Above the Sixpenny, to which the entrance is only one shilling,is the Lower Club, to which those in the Fifth Form belong who areconsidered not to play well enough to belong to the Upper Club. To theUpper Club the clever and all the first-rate players alone belong. Thegrand cricketing time is "after six," when, in the playing-fields, theballs are flying about as thickly as in a general action, or, at allevents, as at "Lord's" on practising days; while, especially at thegreat matches in the Upper Club, the non-players lie on the turf,indulging largely in Bigaroon cherries and other fruits in season, andmaking their remarks on the game.
Such is the every-day Eton life in which Reginald found himself placed.There was abundance of occupation to pass the time, and yet no verysalient events worthy of description. After he had been there about afortnight, he found himself apportioned, by the captain of his house, toa master who had already another fag. That fag, Cross, had been all hisschool-life at Eton, and was well accustomed to the work, so thoughtnothing of it; but when Reginald first found himself ordered to performsome menial office, he could not help his spirit rising in rebellion;but he soon conquered the feeling, the absurdity of which heacknowledged to himself, and he at once set about his task with acheerful countenance and willing hands. The out-of-door fagging wentmore against the grain, as he did not like to be sent here or there byany stranger about some trifle, when he wanted to be doing somethingelse; but he soon got reconciled to that also, with the reflection thatall Eton fellows had to go through it.
Cross and he got on very well together. They were not great friends,but they never quarrelled. Their master, Coventry, was good-natured,though strict in having the duties they owed him performed, and hisorders obeyed.
Reginald was talking over Coventry's character with Power, andobserved--"I would fifty times rather serve a strict master like himthan one of your easy-going, idle fellows, who all of a sudden takes itinto his head that he will have everything in apple-pie order, andthrashes you because you do not know what he wants."
"Certainly," answered Power. "When I first came I had a master whonever by any chance was in the same mind two days together. He wouldhave different things for breakfast and tea, and everything in his roomarranged differently. He kept my mind on a continual stretch to guesswhat he would want, till he made me very nearly as mad as himself. Atlast I informed him that I would do anything that he told me, but that Icould not undertake to guess his wishes. He could not see thereasonableness of my arguments, and so I at length gave up any attemptto please him--he of course never being satisfied; and thus we went ontill the end of the half."
What with observation, conversation, and his own personal experience,Reginald daily gained a larger amount of knowledge of the world in whichhe was destined to move--not of the bad which was taking place, but ofthe way to conduct himself in it.
STORY FOUR, CHAPTER ONE.
STORY FOUR--THE CREW OF THE ROSE.
A crew of Johnians were rowing down the Cam on a fine summer day, intheir own boat Two of them were freshmen--sixth form boys in manners andpursuits; the coxswain had entered on his third year, and was readingfor honours. These were English youths. The fourth--Morgan apTydvill--was from Wales, a pleasant, companionable fellow, proud of hiscountry, proud of his own family in particular, and proud of the boat,of which he was part owner; generous and friendly, but very choleric,though easily calmed down. The fifth was Gerald O'Mackerry, of Irishgenealogy, as his name intimates, and his patronymic was a subject ofmuch harmless pride with him. These two latter personages were in theirsecond year.
For some time the four rowers bent earnestly to their oars, the coxswaindoing the principal part of the talking work; but as the stream carriedthe boat along, and there was no necessity for constant pulling, they attimes restrained their arms to let their tongues run free. The chattingcommenced thus:--
"We haven't given a name to the boat yet."
"Well, I vote for the `Hose.'"
"I think the `shamrock' sounds well," said O'Mackerry.
"The Leek," was Ap Tydvill's suggestion.
"`_Leek_!'--an unlucky name!" observed Green, the coxswain, who, thougha gentlemen and a scholar, was sadly addicted to punning; but they wereall of Saint John's College, and therefore punsters by prescription.This bad pun let out a good deal of punning; when it ceased to flow, theoriginal subject was renewed.
"Will the Trinity boat beat us next month? They have a choice crew, allin capital condition, and heavy men. O'Mack is the only twelve stoneman here," (all gownsmen, you know, are _men_, however boyish in yearsand appearance), "and Tyd is such a little fellow!"
"I'm five feet seven," replied he, rather snappishly; "and I can tellyou that the mean height of a man's stature is but five feet four.(Murmurs of dissent.) O'Mack is about ten inches above the standard;but I'll back a man of my own height (drawing himself up majestically)against him for walking, jumping, running, fighting, wrestling,swimming, throwing a bar, or rowing a long distance--if he have mybreadth of chest and shoulders, and such an arm as this," displaying alimb as hard and muscular as that of a blacksmith. By his own estimatehe was of the perfect size and form.
"In wrestling nimble, and in running swift; Well made to strike, to leap, to throw, to lift."
His vanity, however, though quizzed unmercifully, was not humiliated byany detected failure in his bodily proportions, which he submitted tomeasurement. The circumference of his arm and wrist was considerable--the whole limb and his chest brawny, hirsute, and muscular.
"I'm not afraid of Trinity," shouted he loudly, if not musically."_Sumamus longum haustum et fortem haustum, et haustum Omne simul_, asLord Dufferin said at the Norwegian Symposium, and we shall bump them."
At the spirited Latin watchword, our Cantabs commenced a chorus, "_Omnesimul, omne simul_," etc, etc, which Tyd himself had set to an old Welshtune of the Bardic days. The effect was thrilling--the coxswain, bothsonorously and with a correct ear, singing, "_Omne simul, omne simul_,"and beating time with his feet against the stretcher, while the rowers,arms and lungs and all, pulled and chorused sympathetically.
This sport lasted about half an hour, and then the question was againmooted, "What name shall we give to the boat?"
Green, the steersman, put the question: "Those who vote for the Rosewill say ay--three ays; those who vote for the Shamrock--one; those whovote for the Leek--one."
"The ays have it."
Three triumphant cheers for the majority.
The freshman, quite cockahoop at the victory gained over Ap Tydvill andO'Mackerry, ventured to ask the Welshman "how it happened that a leekbecame the national emblem of Wales?" He readily answered, "When mycountry was able to lick (query: leek) your country,--I don't includeyours, O'Mackerry,--one of our jolly old princes having gained a greatvictory over one of your Saxon leaders and his army, took up a _chive_,which he found growing somewhere near the Wye, and said, `We'll wearthis henceforward as a memorial of this victory.'"
"Pooh, pooh," said the coxswain; "the true version is this. Once upon atime, Wales was so infested with monkeys that the natives were obligedto ask the English to lend them a hand in destroying them. The Englishgenerously came to their assistance; but not pe
rceiving any distinctionbetween the Welsh and the monkeys, they killed a great number of theformer, by mistake of course; so, in order to distinguish them, clearly,they requested that the Welshmen would stick a leek in their bonnets."A running fire (though on water) commenced against poor Monsieur DuLeek--as the bantering youngsters, with profound bows and affectedgravity, chose to name Ap Tydvill--of pedigree immeasurable.
However, he recovered his serenity, after an explosion of wrath somewhatdangerous for a moment; and, on the free trade principle, began to quizsome one else.
"Mack," said he, "do you remember the ducking you got _there_, among the_arundines Cami_?" pointing to a deep sedgy part of the river.
"I do; and I