The Psmith Omnibus. P. G. Wodehouse

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for a game. I can hardly keep my hands off a bat."

      "I'll give you all you want. What you'd better do is to ride straight to Lower Borlock--that's the name of the place--and I'll meet you on the ground. Anyone will tell you where Lower Borlock is. It's just off the London road. There's a signpost where you turn off. Can you come next Saturday?"

      "Rather. I suppose you can fix me up with a bat and pads? I don't want to bring mine."

      "I'll lend you everything. I say, you know, we can't give you a Wrykyn wicket. The Lower Borlock pitch isn't a shirt front."

      "I'll play on a rockery, if you want me to," said Mike.

      * * * * *

      "You're going to what?" asked Psmith, sleepily, on being awakened and told the news.

      "I'm going to play cricket, for a village near here. I say, don't tell a soul, will you? I don't want it to get about, or I may get lugged in to play for the school."

      "My lips are sealed. I think I'll come and watch you. Cricket I dislike, but watching cricket is one of the finest of Britain's manly sports. I'll borrow Jellicoe's bicycle."

      * * * * *

      That Saturday, Lower Borlock smote the men of Chidford hip and thigh. Their victory was due to a hurricane innings of seventy-five by a newcomer to the team, M. Jackson.

      9

      THE FIRE BRIGADE MEETING

      Cricket is the great safety valve. If you like the game, and are in a position to play it at least twice a week, life can never be entirely gray. As time went on, and his average for Lower Borlock reached the fifties and stayed there, Mike began, though he would not have admitted it, to enjoy himself. It was not Wrykyn, but it was a very decent substitute.

      The only really considerable element making for discomfort now was Mr. Downing. By bad luck it was in his form that Mike had been placed on arrival; and Mr. Downing, never an easy form master to get on with, proved more than usually difficult in his dealings with Mike.

      They had taken a dislike to each other at their first meeting; and it grew with further acquaintance. To Mike, Mr. Downing was all that a master ought not to be, fussy, pompous, and openly influenced in his official dealings with his form by his own private likes and dislikes. To Mr. Downing, Mike was simply an unamiable loafer, who did nothing for the school and apparently had none of the healthy instincts which should be implanted in the healthy boy. Mr. Downing was rather strong on the healthy boy.

      The two lived in a state of simmering hostility, punctuated at intervals by crises, which usually resulted in Lower Borlock having to play some unskilled laborer in place of their star batsman, employed doing "overtime."

      One of the most acute of these crises, and the most important, in that it was the direct cause of Mike's appearance in Sedleigh cricket, had to do with the third weekly meeting of the School Fire Brigade.

      It may be remembered that this well-supported institution was under Mr. Downing's special care. It was, indeed, his pet hobby and the apple of his eye.

      Just as you had to join the Archaeological Society to secure the esteem of Mr. Outwood, so to become a member of the Fire Brigade was a safe passport to the regard of Mr. Downing. To show a keenness for cricket was good, but to join the Fire Brigade was best of all.

      The Brigade was carefully organized. At its head was Mr. Downing, a sort of high priest; under him was a captain, and under the captain a vice-captain. These two officials were those sportive allies, Stone and Robinson, of Outwood's house, who, having perceived at a very early date the gorgeous opportunities for ragging which the Brigade offered to its members, had joined young and worked their way up.

      Under them were the rank and file, about thirty in all, of whom perhaps seven were earnest workers, who looked on the Brigade in the right, or Downing, spirit. The rest were entirely frivolous.

      The weekly meetings were always full of life and excitement.

      At this point it is as well to introduce Sammy to the reader.

      Sammy, short for Sampson, was a young bull terrier belonging to Mr. Downing. If it is possible for a man to have two apples of his eye, Sammy was the other. He was a large, lighthearted dog with a white coat, an engaging expression, the tongue of an anteater, and a manner which was a happy blend of hurricane and circular saw. He had long legs, a tenor voice, and was apparently made of India rubber.

      Sammy was a great favorite in the school, and a particular friend of Mike's, the Wrykynian being always a firm ally of every dog he met after two minutes' acquaintance.

      In passing, Jellicoe owned a clockwork rat, much in request during French lessons.

      We will now proceed to the painful details.

      * * * * *

      The meetings of the Fire Brigade were held after school in Mr. Downing's form room. The proceedings always began in the same way, by the reading of the minutes of the last meeting. After that the entertainment varied according to whether the members happened to be fertile or not in ideas for the disturbing of the peace.

      Today they were in very fair form.

      As soon as Mr. Downing had closed the minute book, Wilson, of the School House, held up his hand.

      "Well, Wilson?"

      "Please, sir, couldn't we have a uniform for the Brigade?"

      "A uniform?" Mr. Downing pondered.

      "Red, with green stripes, sir."

      Red, with a thin green stripe, was the Sedleigh color.

      "Shall I put it to the vote, sir?" asked Stone.

      "One moment, Stone."

      "Those in favor of the motion move to the left, those against it to the right."

      A scuffling of feet, a slamming of desk lids and an upset blackboard, and the meeting had divided.

      Mr. Downing rapped irritably on his desk.

      "Sit down!" he said. "Sit down! I won't have this noise and disturbance. Stone, sit down--Wilson, get back to your place."

      "Please, sir, the motion is carried by twenty-five votes to six."

      "Please, sir, may I go and get measured this evening?"

      "Please, sir--"

      "Si-_lence!_ The idea of a uniform is, of course, out of the question."

      "Oo-oo-oo-oo, sir-r-r!"

      "Be _quiet!_ Entirely out of the question. We cannot plunge into needless expense. Stone, listen to me. I cannot have this noise and disturbance! Another time when a point arises it must

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