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Updated: May 7, 2025
Games are absolutely necessary. What on earth would the country be like without them?" "A damned sight better, I should think." "Oh, don't be an ass. Just look at the fellows who don't play games, Rudd and Co. What wrecks they are! Utterly useless. We could do perfectly well without them. Could not we now?" At this point Betteridge strolled in very leisurely.
But when the thought of House matches returned, the old lot came back together to fight their battles over again, and to dream of the silver cups glittering below the statue of Edward VI. They were all there: Hunter, who had seemed to pass almost out of Gordon's life since he had begun to play in the Fifteen; Mansell, who now spent much of his time with Hazelton; Betteridge, who was more often than not with Harding.
"There is none," said Betteridge. "I am going to conduct this platoon in future on different lines. 'Evil be thou my good, as the lad Milton said. We will be unorthodox, original and rebellious." A few days later, Gordon and Rudd saw displayed in a boot-shop window a wondrous collection of coloured silk shoe-laces. "Does anyone really wear those things?" said Gordon.
I have a good mind to go to Claremont and give it him straight. Betteridge, you absurd ass, why did you print this thing?" "Well, you see, there were a few rather risky things in the paper, and I thought if I cut it out he might hack about the rest of the rag. And, besides, it will be an awful score when we win next year, as we are absolutely certain to.
For Christy was the typical product of conventionality and pharisaism. He was so thoroughly contented with anything he superintended that he refused to believe any improvement was possible. But this year Betteridge was honorary secretary and had tried to infuse a little life into the society.
Let's buy enough for the whole platoon. It will be a gorgeous sight! Let's fetch Betteridge." Flinging prefectorial dignity to the winds, they rushed down to the studies. "Betteridge, you've got to let us draw upon the House funds for a good cause." They poured out the idea. Betteridge was enthusiastic. For six shillings they bought forty pairs of coloured laces.
He had never found life quite so hard before; only Morgan's unshatterable optimism, Ferrer's volcanic energy, and his own friendship for Morcombe made things bearable at all. And yet he had all the things he had once wanted. Now Betteridge had left, he was indisputably the big man in the House. Rudd was a broken reed.
It would be really much better to wait until Mr Ferrers is well again before anything is done. It would be quite easy to postpone the meeting, I suppose." "Oh yes, sir, of course." Betteridge was not paying much attention: he was thinking hard. The bell for school rang. "That will be all right then, Betteridge." "Quite, thank you, sir."
But Clarke was paying no attention. That evening he got up after prayers to address the House. "Will nothing stop this fellow's love of oratory?" murmured Betteridge. "I have to speak to the House on a subject which I consider important," began Clarke. In future every week the senior member of each form will bring me a list with the places of each School House member of the form on it.
'Take that to heart, and be not as the seeds that are sown on stony ground, who spring up in the night and wither in the morning." Betteridge intoned the whole lecture. The story was in a way true, but the Stevenson in question had shouted down the passage: "Hurrah, no prep. to-night; my name is down for the confirmation stakes." With the result as above.
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