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Updated: May 29, 2025
And his opinion was even more strengthened when, after he had been clean bowled for forty-three without a chance, "the Bull" stopped him on the way out and said: "Well done, Caruthers! Plucky knock. Go and have a tea at the tuck-shop, and put it down to my account." The School House innings closed for one hundred and forty-eight. "Nothing like big enough," said Foster. FitzMorris overheard him.
They were mostly accounts and detailed orders about which I cared nothing, but finally my search was rewarded by the discovery of a recent army list. I ran my eyes hastily down the artillery assignments Barry, Sommers, Fitzmorris, Sloan, Reilly.
As he walked down the passage he heard a roar of laughter coming from Study No. 1. The story was all round the House in half-an-hour, and on his way down to prayers Clarke heard FitzMorris say before a whole crowd: "You are a great fellow, Meredith. That's the way to keep these upstarts in order."
FitzMorris turned up at the next parade with one puttee missing, and a tunic that could not meet across his chest. There was another inspection, but this time it revealed nothing. Everyone swore that he was wearing his own clothes; there was nothing to prove that he was not. For the time Clarke was discomfited.
But one day FitzMorris turned up on parade in a pair of footer shorts, a straw hat, and a First Eleven blazer. He was a bit of a nut, and finding his clothes gone, went on strangely garbed, merely out of curiosity to see what would happen. A good deal did happen. As soon as the corps was dismissed there was a clothes inspection.
P.F. Warner would demand rain overnight, a drying ground, a fast wind and a baking sun before he would dare do such a thing. But Felsted was made of sterner stuff. Gordon was sent in first with Collins. The idea was to try and knock the bowlers off their length early. Gordon was very nervous. "The Bull" was umpire at one end and FitzMorris at the other.
A few minutes later Hunter dashed in. "Well done, Caruthers. Hooray!" "Well done, Caruthers!" "Good old A-K!" "I am so glad!" Everyone seemed pleased. Just before prayers, as he sat at the top of the day-room table, FitzMorris came over to him. "Jolly good, Caruthers. Well done." His cup was full. Foster did not get his cap....
The scorers were at variance, so the exact score could not be discovered. There seemed a reasonable chance of winning. And to his dying day Gordon will maintain that they would have won but for that silly ass of an umpire, FitzMorris. Bridges, the Buller's wicket-keep, was run out by yards; there was no doubt about it. Everyone saw it.
This was the cricket anyone could appreciate, and this was the cricket that was always seen on a School House game. Its only drawback was that could not last. Collins made a few more daring strokes. In the second over he made a superb drive over shortslip's head to the boundary, and his next shot nearly ended FitzMorris' somnolent existence.
However, he was a sport, and let them do as they liked; so they drank his health and sang: He's a Jolly Good Fellow! Several old boys came down, FitzMorris with an eyeglass and a wonderful tie; Sandham, as usual, quite insignificant; Armour wearing the blue waistcoat of a Wadham drinking club.
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