The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's Part 29

"Do any of you know," asked the head master, "anything about this newspaper, the _Dominican_, which I see hanging outside the Fifth door?"

"I hear a great many boys talking about it," said Mr Jellicott of the Fifth. "It is the joint production of several of the boys in my form."

"Indeed! A Fifth form paper!" said the Doctor. "Has any one perused it?"

"I have," said Mr Rastle. "It seems to me to be cleverly managed, though perhaps a little personal."

"Ah, only natural with schoolboys," said the Doctor. "I should like to see it. Can you fetch it, Rastle?"

"It is nailed to the wall," said Mr Rastle, smiling, "like Luther's manifesto; but I can get one of the boys, I dare say, to unfasten it for you."

"No, do not do that," said the Doctor. "If the mountain will not come to Mahomet, you know, Mahomet and his disciples must go to the mountain, eh, Mr Harrison? I think we might venture out and peruse it where it hangs." So half-stealthily, when the whole school was falling asleep, Dr Senior and his colleagues stepped out into the pa.s.sage, and by the aid of a candle satisfied their curiosity as to the mysterious _Dominican_.

A good deal of its humour was, of course, lost upon them, as they could hardly be expected to understand the force of all the allusions it contained. But they saw quite enough to enable them to gather the general tenor of the paper; it amused and it concerned them.

"It shows considerable ability on the part of its editor," said the Doctor, after the masters had returned to his study, "but I rather fear its tone may give offence to some of the boys--in the Sixth for instance."

"I fancy there is a considerable amount of rivalry between the two head forms," said Mr Harrison.

"If there is," said Mr Jellicott, "this newspaper is hardly likely to diminish it."

"And it seems equally severe on the juniors," said Mr Rastle.

"Ah," said the Doctor, smiling, "about that 'strike.' I can't understand that. Really the politics of your little world, Rastle, are too intricate for any ordinary mortal. But I gather the small boys have a grievance against the big ones?"

"Yes, on the question of f.a.gging, I believe."

"Oh!" said the Doctor. "I hope that is not coming up. You know I'm heretic enough to believe that a certain amount of f.a.gging does not do harm in a school like ours."

"Certainly not," said Mr Jellicott. "But these small boys are really very amusing. They appear to be regularly organised, and some of them have quite a martyr spirit about them."

"As I can testify," said Mr Rastle, proceeding to recount the case of Stephen Greenfield and his sore cheek. The Doctor listened to it all, half gravely, half amused, and presently said:

"Well, it is as well the holidays are coming. Things are sure to calm down in them; and next term I dare say we shall be all the wiser for the lessons of this. Meanwhile I should like to see the editor of this paper to-morrow. Who is he, Jellicott?"

"I believe it is Pembury."

"Very well. Send him to me, will you, to-morrow at ten? Good-night.

Thank you for your advice!"

Next morning the Doctor talked to Pembury about the _Dominican_. He praised the paper generally, and congratulated him on the success of his efforts. But he took exception to its personal tone.

"As long as you can keep on the broad round of humour and pure fun, nothing can please us more than to see you improving your time in a manner like this. But you must be very careful to avoid what will give pain or offence to any section of your schoolfellows. I was sorry to see in the present number a good deal that might have been well omitted of that kind. Remember this, Pembury, I want all you boys, instead of separating off one set from another, and making divisions between cla.s.s and cla.s.s, to try to make common cause over the whole school, and unite all the boys in common cause for the good of Saint Dominic's. Now your paper could help not a little in this direction. Indeed, if it does not help, it had better not be issued. There! I shall not refer to the matter again unless you give me cause. I do not want to discourage you in your undertaking, for it's really an excellent idea, and capitally carried out. And _verb.u.m sap_, you know, is quite sufficient."

Anthony, with rather a long face, retired from the Doctor's presence.

A few days later the school broke up for the summer holidays.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A HOLIDAY ADVENTURE.

When a big school like Saint Dominic's is gathered together within the comparatively narrow compa.s.s of four walls, there _is_ some possibility of ascertaining how it prospers, and what events are interesting it.

But when the same school is scattered to the four winds of heaven during the holidays, it would require a hundred eyes and more to follow its movements.

It would be impossible, for instance, at one and the same time to accompany Raleigh and his sisters up Snowdon, and look on at Bramble catching crabs on the rocks at Broadstairs; nor, while we follow Dr Senior among the peaks and pa.s.ses of Switzerland (and remark, by the way, what a nice quiet boy Tom Senior is, when he has only his father and his mother to tempt him into mischief) can we possibly expect to regard very attentively the doings of Simon, as he gapes about before the London shop-windows, and jerks off a score or more stanzas of his "Hart's Earnings," which is now about a quarter done.

So the reader must imagine how most of the boys spent their holidays, how they enjoyed them, and how they behaved themselves during the period, and be content to be told only about two groups of holiday-makers, about whom, as they are destined to figure pretty conspicuously in next term's doings at Saint Dominic's, it will be interesting to hear rather more particularly now.

And the first group--if we can call a single person a "group"--is Loman.

Loman began his holidays in anything but cheerful spirits. No one had seemed particularly sorry to say good-bye to him at Saint Dominic's, and a good many had been unmistakably glad. And he had quite enough on his mind, apart from this, to make his home-coming far less joyous than it might have been. It ought to have been the happiest event possible, for he was coming home to parents who loved him, friends who were glad to see him, and a home where every comfort and pleasure was within his reach. Few boys, indeed, were more blessed than Loman with all the advantages of a Christian and happy home; and few boys could have failed to return to such a home after a long absence without delight. But to Loman, these holidays, the surroundings of home afforded very little pleasure. His mind was ill at ease. The burden of debt was upon him, and the burden of suspense. He had tried hard to a.s.sure himself that all would come right--that he would certainly win the scholarship, and so wipe off the debt; but his confidence became less and less comfortable as time went on.

He dared not tell his troubles to his father, for he feared his upbraiding; and he would not confess them to his mother, for she, he knew, would tell all to his father. He still clung to the hope that all would come right in the end; and then what would have been gained by telling his parents all about it?

The one thing was hard work--and Loman came home determined to work.

His parents saw him out of spirits, and were concerned. They did what they could to cheer him, but without much success.

"Come, Edward, put away your books to-day," his mother would say; "I want you to drive me over to Falkham in the pony-chaise."

"I really can't, mother; I must work for the scholarship."

"Nonsense, boy; what is a scholarship compared with your health?

Besides, you'll work all the better if you take some exercise."

But for a week nothing could tempt him out. Then, instead of accompanying his father or mother, he would take long solitary rides on his own pony, brooding all the while over his troubles.

One day, when in the course of one of these expeditions he had taken the direction of Maltby--which was only fifteen miles distant from his home--he became suddenly aware of an approaching dog-cart in the road before him, and a familiar voice crying, "Why, if it ain't young Squire Loman, riding a bit of very tidy horseflesh too, as I'm a Dutchman!"

It was Cripps. What evil spirit could have brought him on the scene now?

"Well, I never reckoned to see you now," said he, in his usual jaunty manner. "Fact is, I was just trotting over to see _you_. I wanted to try what this here cob was made of, and, thinks I, I may as well kill two birds with one stone, and look up my young squire while I'm about it."

"Coming to see me!" exclaimed Loman, horrified. "I say, Cripps, you mustn't do that. My father would be very angry, you know."

"Nice, that is! As if I wasn't as good company as any one else!"

"Oh! it's not that," said Loman, fearing he had given offence. "What I mean is--"

"Oh, I know--about that there rod. Bless me! I won't let out on you, my beauty--leastways, if you come up to scratch. He'd like to hear the story, though, the old gentleman, I fancy. Wouldn't he now?"

"I wouldn't have him know it for worlds. It'll be all right, Cripps, indeed it will about the money."

Mr Cripps looked very benignant.

"All right, young swell, I hope it will. Funny I feel such an interest in you, 'specially since that young greeny friend of yours put in a word for you. He's a real nice sort, he is--he owes you one, and no mistake."