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That performance gave me a good start in the 'Varsity XI., and The Bradder was desperately afraid that I should stop reading altogether. But Fred and Jack were both hard at work, and except on one evening a week Henderson had to go into a separate room when he wanted to entertain his numerous friends. Jack rowed in our Eight, and they went up to fourth.
The Bradder was quite willing to let the subject drop, but his pear was a mistake and prevented me from suggesting that we should go. "You sympathize with this Radical feeling?" my father asked him. "To some extent I share it."
I ought, however, to have known that The Bradder was not the kind of man who would allow himself to become a nonentity, for he was full of energy and determination.
I doubted the blue riband part of the story, and if Dennison ever wore one I think it would only be on Boat-race day, for it takes a tremendous lot of courage to wear a badge of any kind. After Dennison had disappeared, Jack and I saw The Bradder nearly every day. His keenness on the college increased instead of wearing off with time, and he seemed to be exactly the right kind of man to be a don.
The Bradder, who watched over me like a prospective brother-in-law, encouraged me to think that I should not do very badly in the "schools," but I think he was rather agitated when Henderson chose me to play for the 'Varsity against the Gentlemen of England, and in a very bad light I got more wickets than I ever expected to get in a first-class match.
But The Bradder met explosions with what my father called afterwards rank obstinacy, and the man who explodes is naturally angry if he cannot get some one to explode back at him. "The Warden, from what I have heard of him, would not approve of your opinions," my father said at last. "He does not meddle with our politics," The Bradder answered.
I never saw him doing it, but he had a most effective way of fooling dons, and, as far as his work was concerned, he never seemed to be worried. When, however, he came to me three weeks before the end of the term, and told me he was going to give up law and read history, I thought he was seeking trouble. "You will have to work if you have anything to do with The Bradder," I told him.
My interviews with The Bradder during the first two or three weeks of this term were most strictly business-like. I was afraid that he would speak to me of the Hedonists, and as I had no intention of saying a word to him about them I never stayed with him longer than I could possibly help.
I expect that The Bradder knew that I should not care about being bustled by him, and the result of his conversation with me was that he got a great deal of essay out of me with very little trouble to himself, though I thought that he was mistaken in making me start at such a furious pace, and I asked him, without any effect, if he had ever heard of men being overtrained.
"He's a wise man," my father returned, and The Bradder laughed. "The Warden talks about politicians as if they were an army of tuft-hunters, hunting for tufts which they will never find. He refuses to speak seriously about politics." "The habit of being amused at our failures or cynical about them is becoming too common."
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