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Updated: June 16, 2025
Before the end of the week the list was handed in, and as the documents might some day be of immense value to the future historian of New Swishford, I quote them here. Bowler. A waterproof, a hat-box, a pair of cricket bails, and a fold- up chair. Gayford. The chart, a compass, jam-pots for baling out boats, an eight-blade knife, a hammer and tacks, and a chessboard. Braintree. Tubbs. Crashford.
The autumn term at Swishford School was more than half over, and boys were waking up to the hope that after all the Christmas holidays, which seemed such a way off six weeks ago, might yet arrive during their lifetime.
Now then, Wallas, who's your man?" asked Bowler. "Tubbs," said Wallas. Tubbs was one of the most hopeless louts at Swishford. Gayford gave a low whistle; but he was too anxious to preserve the harmony of the party to offer any objection. "Now you, Braintree?" "I say, Cwashford. Jolly fellow, and knows French, too." "Ah, but he is such a cad," said Bowler imploringly.
"Oh, it's better weather," said Gayford; "besides, Wallas is in for his Oxford local." "Oh, that doesn't matter tremendously," said Wallas, who was beginning to think the world might after all go on if he did not pass. "We can give him an exam, on the ship going out," said Bowler, "a Swishford local exam., you know, and offer a slice of the island if he passes."
It'll be more like New Swishford than ever now." This last argument had more effect with Bowler than any other, and he slowly put on his coat. "I vote we souse that idiot, Tubbs, till he's black in the face," said Crashford viciously. "What's the use of that?" asked Bowler.
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