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Updated: June 29, 2025
My brother's an odd kind of chap, the sort of man who doesn't know the ace of spades by sight, but it's as easy to shout as it is not to row. Your name's Marten, isn't it?" "Yes," I replied; "how did you know that?" "I scored when you came over last term to play for Cliborough against Wellingham. I was twelfth man to the XI., though you needn't believe it if you don't want to.
I asked Dennison suddenly, springing the question upon him as had been the habit of one master at Cliborough when he was going to ask me something very embarrassing. Ward hit me in the ribs with his elbow, and Dennison pretended not to hear, so I moved a little further from Ward and repeated my question. "The Subby didn't send for me," he replied; "I wasn't caught and I made no row to speak of."
A man called Webb, who had a mole on his forehead and had been at Cliborough with me, sang the next song, but it was a sentimental thing, and had a chorus with some high notes in it, an unsuitable choice which fell flat, and when it was over Webb sat down by me in disgust, and helped himself lavishly to punch by way of consolation.
He had liked nearly everybody at Cliborough, but when he disliked anybody there was something rather huge in the way he had nothing to do with them. And he had a habit, which would have annoyed me in any one else, of being nearly always right.
Fred got a second, and considering that he had been playing footer and cricket for the 'Varsity so much, everybody thought that he had done most thoroughly well. Cliborough was so satisfied with him that he was offered a mastership at once, which was a stroke of luck both for Fred and the school.
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