The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story

by Talbot Baines Reed

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  THE "DOMINICAN," NUMBER ONE.

  The eventful day had come at last. Anthony and his confederates hadworked hard, evening after evening, in the secrecy of their studies, andthe first number of the _Dominican_ was ready for publication. The bigframe had been smuggled in, and the big sheet was now safely lodgedbehind the glass, with its eight broad columns of clearly-writtenmanuscript all ready to astonish Saint Dominic's. Two nails hadsurreptitiously been driven into the wall outside the Fifth Form room,on which the precious document was to be suspended, and Tony only waitedfor "lights out" to creep down and, with the aid of Ricketts andBullinger, fix it in position. Everything succeeded well. The secrethad been kept most carefully, and when, next morning, Saint Dominic'swoke up and swarmed down the passage past the Fifth Form class-room, thesight of a huge frame, with the words _The Dominican_ staring out fromit, and several yards of writing underneath, fairly startled them.Master Paul, the fag who had been deputed to the no easy task ofpreserving the structure from injury, had a hard time of it, there wassuch a hustling and crowding in front of it whenever classes were notgoing on. The little boys squeezed in front; the bigger boys read overtheir heads; the Sixth examined it from the back of the crowd, and theFifth Form from various positions watched with complacency the effect ofthis venture.

  At first it was looked upon as a curiosity, then as a joke; thengradually it dawned on Saint Dominic's that it was a Fifth Formproduction, and finally it appeared in its true light as a schoolnewspaper.

  Loman, attracted by the crowd of boys, strolled down the passage to theplace and joined the group, just as a small boy was reading aloud thefollowing descriptive extract from:

  "Our Special Correspondent in Guinea-pig Land.

  "Last night the ceremony of admitting a new member into the ancient andhonourable craft of Guinea-pigs was celebrated with the usual mysteries.The event took place in the fourth junior class-room. The Guinea-pigsassembled in force, with blackened faces and false whiskers. The lightsbeing put out, Brother Bilke proposed, and Brother Smudge seconded, theelection of the new aspirant, and the motion being put to theGuinea-pigs, was received with a unanimous grunt. The Guinea-pig electwas then admitted. He was classically attired in a pair of slippers anda collar, and the ceremony of initiation at once commenced. Thecandidate was stretched across the lowest desk, face downwards, and inthis position greeted with the flat side of a cricket-bat by the juniorbrother present. He was then advanced to the next desk, where a similarcompliment was paid by the next youngest; and so on to the seniorbrother present. Half way through the ceremony the new member expresseda desire to withdraw his candidature, but this motion was negatived by alarge majority. When our reporter left, the ceremony was being repeatedwith the round side of the bat. We understand the new Guinea-pig iskeeping his bed to-day after the exciting ceremony of initiation."

  This was capital fun, and greatly appreciated by all--even by Stephen,who knew it was intended to represent his own experience, which,mercifully, had not been nearly so sore as pictured.

  But the next extract was not quite as pleasing.

  "Cricket Notice.

  "The Alphabet Match will be played on Saturday. The following are thetwo elevens [and here the list followed]. Of these twenty-two players,it is worthy of mention that fourteen are from the Fifth, and only eightfrom the Sixth. What is our Sixth coming to?"

  This was not at all gratifying to the Sixth Form fellows present. Itwas unfortunately true, but they did not at all fancy such prominencebeing given to the fact. The next extract was still more pointed.

  "Sixth Form Debating Society.

  "The usual meeting of the Sixth Form Debating Society was held lastweek, the Doctor in the chair. A sprinkling of lads from the Fifth, intheir Sunday coats and collars, was present, by kind permission. Thesubject for discussion was, `That the present Sixth is degenerate.' Inthe absence of any member of the Sixth to open the discussion, MasterBramble, captain of the Tadpoles, kindly undertook the task. He had nohesitation in asserting that the Sixth were degenerate. They had fallenoff in cricket since he could remember, and in intellect, he was sorryto say, the falling off was still worse. If they would take his advice,they would avoid the playground during the present season, and by allmeans withdraw their candidate for the Nightingale Scholarship, as hewas certain to be beaten by boys in a lower form. As to behaviour, hecould point to virtuous behaviour among the Tadpoles, quite equal tothat of the monitors. He didn't wish to ask questions, but would liketo know what they all found so attractive in Maltby. Then, too, theyall oiled their hair. No previous Sixth had ever been guilty of thiseffeminacy, or of wearing lavender kid gloves on Sundays. He repeated,`What were we coming to?'"

  "Mr R-g-h opened in the negative. He denied all the charges made bythe young gentleman who had last spoken. He undertook to get up aneleven to beat any eleven the Tadpoles could put into the field; and asto intellect, why, didn't the Tadpoles, some of them, get their sumsdone by the Sixth? Besides, even if their intellect was weak, couldn'tthey use cribs? He didn't use them himself, but he knew one or two whodid. He didn't understand the objection to the hair-oil; he used it tomake the hair sit down on his head. [Raleigh, it should be said, had amost irrepressible bunch of curls on his head.] He wore kid gloves onSunday because he had had a pair given him by his great-aunt Jane Ann.He maintained the Sixth was not degenerate.

  "Mr L-m-n followed on the same side. He thought it the greatestliberty of any one to discuss the Sixth. He was a Sixth Form fellow,and a monitor, and if he wasn't looked up to he ought to be, and heintended to be. He was in the cricket eleven, and he was intellectual--very, very much so. He was going in for the Nightingale Scholarship,and had no doubt in his own mind as to the result. He hardly understoodhis friend's reference to Maltby. Why shouldn't he go there and takehis fag too if he chose? He didn't see what right the Fifth had to fagsat all. He had a fag, but then he was in the Sixth. His fag admiredhim, and he never told him not to. The Sixth _could not_ be degenerateso long as _he_ was in it."

  "Other speakers followed, including Mr W-r-n, who maintained thatMichael Angelo was a greater musician than Queen Anne. He was herecalled to order, and reminded that Michael Angelo had nothing to do withthe degeneracy of the Sixth. He begged leave to explain--

  "At this point our reporter fell asleep."

  The laughter which greeted the reading of this extract was by no meansshared by the Sixth Form boys present, who, had the next selection beenin a similar strain, would have quitted the scene and taken their chanceof satisfying their curiosity as to the rest of the contents of thepaper at a more convenient season.

  But the next lucubration was the unfortunate Stephen's examinationpaper, with the answers thereto embellished, and in many cases bodilysupplied, by the fertile Anthony. The luckless Stephen, who was wedgedup in the front row of readers, could have sunk into the earth onmeeting once more that hateful paper face to face, and feeling himselfan object of ridicule to the whole school. For the wonderful answerswhich now appeared were hardly any of them his own composition, and hedid not even get credit for the few correct things he had said. Shoutsof laughter greeted the reading, during which he dared not lift his eyesfrom the ground. But the answer to Question 6, "What is a minus?" wasmore than human flesh and blood could endure.

  "What is a Minus?"

  "`Minus' is derived from two English words, `my,' meaning my, and `nus,'which is the London way of pronouncing `nurse.' My nurse is a dearcreature; I love her still, especially now she doesn't wash my face. Ihated having my face washed. My nurse's name is Mrs Blake, but Ialways call her my own Noodle-oodle-oo. I do love her so! How I wouldlike to hug her! She sewed the strings of my little flannel vest on infront just before I came here because she knew I couldn't tie thembehind by myself--"

  "She didn't!" shouted Stephen, in a voice trembling with indignation.

  Poor boy! The laughter which greeted this simple excl
amation was enoughto finish up any one, and, with a bursting heart, and a face crimsonwith confusion, he struggled out of the crowd and ran as fast as hislegs would take him to his own class-room.

  But if he imagined in his misery that the whole school was going tospend the entire day jeering at him, and him alone, he was greatlymistaken, for once out of sight Stephen soon passed out of mind inpresence of the next elegant extract read out for the benefit of theassembled audience. This was no other than Simon's "Love-Ballad."

  Simon, it should be known, was one of the dullest boys in SaintDominic's, and it was a standing marvel how he ever came to be in theFifth, for he was both a dunce and an idiot. But he had one ambitionand one idea, which was that he could write poetry; and the followingtouching ballad from his pen he offered to the _Dominican_, and the_Dominican_ showed its appreciation of real talent by inserting it:--

  "A Love-Ballad.

  "I wish I was a buttercup, Upon the mountain top, That you might sweetly pick me up, And sweetly let me drop. I wish I was a little worm, All rigling in the sun, That I myself towards thee might turn When thou along didst come. Oh, I wish I was a doormat, sweet, All prostrate on the floor, If only thou wouldst wipe thy feet, On me, what could I want more?"

  ["Rigling" is possibly "wriggling".]

  Simon, who, with true poet's instinct, was standing among the crowdlistening to his own poem, was somewhat perplexed by the manner in whichhis masterpiece was received. That every one was delighted there couldbe no doubt. But he had an impression he had meant the ballad to bepathetic. Saint Dominic's, however, had taken it up another way, andappeared to regard it as facetious. At any rate his fame was made, andlooking as if a laurel wreath already encircled his brow, he modestlyretired, feeling no further interest, now his own piece was ended.

  Oliver's poem on the Tadpoles, with its marvellous rhymes, fellcomparatively flat after this; and Bullinger's first chapter of theHistory of Saint Dominic's failed to rivet the attention of theaudience, which, however, became suddenly and painfully absorbed in the"Diary of the Sixth Form Mouse," from the pen of Wraysford. We mustinflict a few passages from this document on the reader, as the paperwas the cause of some trouble hereafter.

  "Diary of the Sixth Form Mouse.

  "Monday.--Up early and took a good breakfast in one of the desks wherethere was a jam sandwich and several toffee-drops. The Sixth seem tolike jam sandwiches and toffee-drops, there are some of them in nearlyevery desk. The desk I was in had a packet of cigarettes in one corner.They were labelled `Mild.' I wonder why the Sixth like theircigarettes mild. In the same desk were one or two books written by aman called Bohn; they seemed queer books, for they had Latin and Greeknames outside, but all the reading inside was English. It is sad to seethe quarrelling that goes on in this room. You would not suppose, tosee these monitors walking grandly up and down the passages strikingterror into the hearts of all the small boys, that they could possiblycondescend to quarrel over the possession of an inkpot or the ownershipof an acid-drop found among the cinders. Alas! it is very sad. Theydon't seem anything like the Sixth of old days. I shall emigrate ifthis goes on.

  "Wednesday.--A great row to-day when the Doctor was out of the room.The two senior monitors engaged in a game of marbles--knuckle down--inthe course of which one player accused the other of cheating. There wasnearly a fight, only neither seemed exactly to like to begin, and bothappeared relieved when the Doctor came in and confiscated the marbles."

  And so the diary went on, in a strain highly offensive to the Sixth andequally delighting to the lower forms. After this the Sixth withdrew,not caring to face further taunts of the kind, and leaving a free fieldto the rest of Saint Dominic's, who perused this wonderful broadside tothe end with unflagging interest. Some of the advertisements with whichTony had filled up the gaps caused considerable mirth--such as this: "Agentleman about to clear out his desk, begs to give notice that he willSell by Auction to-morrow after `Lights out,' all those rare andvaluable articles, to wit:--one and a half gross best cherry-stones,last year's, in excellent condition. About twelve assorted breadcrusts, warranted dry and hard--one with a covering of fossilisedsardine. Six quires of valuable manuscript notes on various subjects,comprising Latin, Greek, Mathematics, French, and Crambo. One apple,well seasoned, and embellished with a brilliant green fur of two years'growth. And many other miscellaneous treasures, such as slate pencils,nutshells, an antique necktie, several defunct silkworms, a noblethree-bladed knife (deficient of the blades), and half a pound of putty.No reserve price. Must be cleared out at whatever sacrifice."

  And this was another:--

  "This is to give notice, that whereas certain parties calling themselvesGuinea-pigs have infringed on our patent rights, we, the Tadpoles ofSaint Dominic's, have been and are from time immemorial entitled to theexclusive privilege of appearing in public with dirty faces, uncombedhair, and inky fingers. We have also the sole right of making beasts ofourselves on every possible occasion; and we hereby declare that it isour intention to institute proceedings against all parties, of whatevername, who shall hereafter trespass on these our inalienable rights. Byorder, B. Smudgeface and T. Blacknose, Secretaries."

  This final onslaught broke up the party. The aggrieved Tadpoles rushedto their quarters and fumed and raged themselves into a state borderingon, madness; and vowed revenge till they were hoarse.

  It was a curious fact, nevertheless, that at prayers that evening therewere more clean faces among the Tadpoles than had been seen there sincethe formation of that ancient and honourable fraternity.