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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Yours will soon be groggy, Rogers, my pet, though you are cock of your beastly water-lilies." After Sharpe's memorable poem, Biffen's house were always "water-lillies" to the rest of St. Amory's. "Ah?" said Poulett, "Jack carries Acton's notes to some yellow-haired dolly down at Westcote. She gives him milk whilst he's waiting for the answer." "Go and poach eggs, Poulett."
Before we recovered from our stupefaction he had vanished. The school clamoured for his return, but though they cheered for three minutes on end Acton did not reappear, and Brown struck up "God save the Queen!" Biffen's concert was at an end! Grim held a five minutes' meeting among the Biffenites before bed. "There's never been a fellow like Acton in St. Amory's. He goes away at nine to-morrow.
We all cheered for Raven, who scored a popular and unexpected victory, for why should a Fifth Form fellow beat one of the Sixth? Biffen's crowd kept up the cheering until Corker rose again. "I can heartily congratulate Raven on his success, for his classical knowledge was distinctly good. Hodgson I can also congratulate, for his papers too were good.
The next day Chalmers smoothed his ruffled feelings by piling on three goals against the Fifth, who sneaked off the Acres five goals to the bad. This was the first time for ages that Biffen's had tasted blood, and the news of the victory staggered others besides the victims. There was quite a flutter among the house captains, and Acton, by the way, had no more mutinies.
Amory eleven is incomplete without John Acton, of Biffen's house, and, consequently, that he ought to have the last cap; and we would beg the captain to offer it him unless there be very good reasons for not doing so. We would suggest that if John Acton isn't to have the cap he be told the reason.
This day was pretty generally known amongst Biffen's fags. When he had finished he read it to Wilson, who unbent from his antagonistic attitude towards poetry when he heard the subject of the verse. "After all, Grimmy, it doesn't sound more rotten than Virgil, and it is rather swagger to say that Biffen's is to Hilda what Samnos was to Juno. It's a jolly lot more, though."
The dervishes took matters very calmly; the desire to play for Biffen's was not strong enough to counterbalance the natural shrinking from a header into the duckweed and a run home in wet clothes. Singh Ram had a final try at the door, and then murmured so Gus said "Kismet," and relit his half-smoked cigar.
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