“A grand idea, Fruity. Your epilogue isn’t in it.”
“What is it, Grim?”
“We’ll have a boxing competition open to St. Amory’s juniors only. Rogers should pull that off, eh?”
“Rather,” said they all. “One more feather in Biffen’s cap.”.
“But, Grimmy,” said Rogers, “I don’t last, you know.”
“Ah!” said the chairman, brilliantly, “we’ll only have one two-minutes’ round each draw. It will go by points. You’re safe as a house, my pet, really.”
“Who’ll be judge about points? I propose you, Grim,” said Rogers, with intent.
“Thanks, old cock, but I really couldn’t do the honourable if you were ‘rocky’ in the last rounds. We’ll ask Carr to see us through that part. You’ll be all right, I tell you.”
“Who’s to accompany on the P and O?”
“Oh, Brown must see to that!”
“I propose Brown key-thumper.”
“I second that.”
“Carried,” said the chair, smartly.
“I say,” said Grim, “I propose myself stage manager. I’m the only fellow who knows a ha’porth about it.”
“A ha’porth is an awful lot; besides, a chairman can’t propose himself,” said Cherry, revengefully.
“I second the chairman’s proposal,” said Wilson, backing up his chum.
“Carried, nem. con.”
“No, I’m hanged if it was!” said Cherry. “You’re a fraud, Grimmy.”
“All right now, you chaps, the meeting is over. Wilson and I will go up to Acton, and see what he’ll do for us, and then we’ll rough out a swagger programme.”
THE END OF TERM
The two worthies, Grim and Wilson, after seeing Acton, began to get out their programme. Here it is:—
BIFFEN’S JUNIORS’ CONCERT.
Cock House, December, 1898.
(2) Poem on the subject
of Cock House.
(3) Bar Act.
(4) First Round Junior
PRINCE RUNJIT MEHTAH and RAM SINGH.
(5) SONG. “My
(6) PIANOFORTE SOLO.
“Oh! listen to the band.”
(7) Second Round Boxing.
(8) SONG. “Jim.”
J. ACTON, ESQ.
(9) Third and Concluding Rounds Boxing.
(10) SONG. “Well,
suppose you did?”
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.
Trinity College (by Examination).
STAGE MANAGER W.E. GRIM.
Manager begs to state that there will be no Latin
or classical allusions throughout the evening. No waits. No
charge for programmes. No antediluvian jokes.