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Updated: June 9, 2025
He was as ready as ever to fight any one who spoke ill of the schoolhouse. But it certainly had given him a jar, which resulted in rather strained relations with some of his old allies in Parrett's. Of course nothing could shake his devotion to Parson. That was secure whatever happened, but towards the other heroes of Parrett's, particularly the seniors, he felt unfriendly.
The trials had been carefully noted and times compared, the variations in style had been eagerly criticised, the weights of the rowers had become public property, and in short every detail likely to influence the result was a subject of almost painful interest to the eager partisans on either side. And every hour seemed to promise a closer race. Not that Parrett's had fallen off.
The arguments were mostly on the side of the schoolhouse, and the vehemence on the side of Parrett's. Once or twice a Welcher dropped in a speech, attacking both parties and once or twice a schoolhouse boy spoke in favour of Bloomfield, or a Parrett's boy spoke in favour of Riddell. At last, after about an hour's angry debate, the House divided.
The night was spent till bedtime in one prolonged cheer in honour of their heroes, who were glad enough to hide anywhere to escape the mobbing they came in for whenever they showed their faces. In Parrett's house the festivities were of a far more subdued order. As Willoughbites they were, of course, bound to rejoice in the victory of the old school. But at what cost did they do it?
The President then called upon Mr Ashley to move the resolution standing in his name, which he did in a rather feeble speech. "I really don't think it necessary to say much to prove that the school is degenerate. Look at the clubs! They aren't nearly as good as they were in old Wyndham's time. Parrett's clubs, thanks to Mr Bloomfield, keep up; but where are the others? Then the rows.
The second of June was far enough ahead at present, but an old hand like Bloomfield knew well that the time was all too short to lick his crew into shape. Parrett's boat, by all ordinary calculation, ought to win, for they had a specially good lot of men this year; and now Wyndham had left, the schoolhouse boat would be quite an orphan.
Every man in the boat has done something for Willoughby in times past, and as the boys see their heroes ready now for a fresh triumph, they forget all about their little tyrannies indoors, and cheer them like mad. "Bravo Parrett's. Bravo, Bloomfield! Hurrah, captain! You're to win." Even the Welchers for the moment join in the popular clamour.
For the first time for a long while Welch's house seemed to be of one mind a mind made up of equal mixtures of resentment and amazement and amusement. Probably, had they been more accustomed to thinking together, they would have summoned a monster meeting, as Parrett's would have done, to discuss the situation.
"Have them over, Parrett's!" shouted a voice, as Wibberly staggered back a second time before Fairbairn's stalwart arm, while at the same moment Tucker received a similar rebuff from Crossfield. The summons was promptly answered, and a dash was made on the five schoolhouse boys with a view to carrying out the threat literally, when Wyndham's voice shouted, "Rescue here! schoolhouse, come on!"
The indignation of Parrett's house on hearing such a story may be imagined. It was even past a joke. Bloomfield seriously offered to resign all pretensions to authority and let things take their course. "It makes me seem," he said, "as if I wanted to stick myself up. If he's so sure of keeping order by himself, I don't see what use it is my pretending to do it too."
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