Beating his elder brother

Three fags of the Third suddenly closed in on Arthur Augustus D’Arcy, and before he knew what was happening, Gussy was on the carpet of Study No. 6. In the grasp of the three, he was rolled over, his aristocratic nose grinding into the carpet. Then Wally jerked up the cricket-stump. – Extracted from Levison Minor’s Plight by Martin Clifford (a.k.a  Frank Richards), The Gem, 20 June 1925.

“Ass!”

“I am waiting for you to acknowledge that your nose is hurt!”

“Ha, ha, ha!” roared Herries and Dig and the three minors.

Jack Blake looked fixedly at his noble chum. He was greatly inclined to rush on Arthur Augustus D’Arcy, and mop up the study with his noble person. Arthur Augustus, quite unaware of his thoughts, regarded him with innocent inquiry.

“You own up deah boy?” he asked. Blake breathed hard.

“I’m going to bathe my nose,” he said, and he went to the door. Arthur Augustus hurried after him and caught him by the shoulder.

“One moment, deah boy. I am awah that your nose wequires bathin’, but pway do not forget the mattah undah discussion. Are you satisfied that I am the best boxah in the study?”

Jack Blake did not answer in words. He suddenly grasped Arthur Augustus with both hands and knocked his head on the study wall.

Crack!

“Oooooop!”

Blake walked out of the study. Arthur Augustus D’Arcy rubbed his head and stared after him blankly.

“Ow! Bah Jove! What is the mattah with Blake, dearh boys! He seems to be vewy watty this evenin’ about somethin’ Ow!”

“Ha, ha, ha!” roared Herries and Dig, and the three minors contributed a chortle.

“There is nothin’ to cackle at, you fellows,” said Arthur Augustus. “He has given me quite a painful jah on my napper. Do you fellows think Blake was annoyed at my turnin’ out to be the best boxah in the study?”

“Ha, ha, ha!”

“Oh wats!”

Herries and Dig strolled out of Study No. 6, the boxing entertainment evidently being over. Arthur Augustus rubbed his noble head where it had come in contact with the wall. He was surprised by Blake’s unaccountable conduct, and he was pained.

Wally of the Third bestowed a wink on his comrades. Now was the time to tackle D’Arcy major.

“Gussy, old man, what a terrific fighting-man you are!” said Wally, in great admiration.

“Amazing!” said Reggie Manners, taking his cue from Wally.

Arthur Augustus smiled genially.

“Yaas, wather!” he agreed. “I fancy I am wather a tewwific boxah when I get going, you know!”

“Top-hole, and no mistake,” said Wally, “And then, look at your nerve, Gus! You’ve got nerve enough for anything! You’d have nerve enough to walk right into old Selby’s study, wouldn’t you?”

“I twust so, Wally; but I do not approve of your alludin’ to your Form mastah as old Selby,” said the swell of the Fourth reprovingly.

“I stand corrected,” said Wally, with unusual and surprising humility. “Look what it is, you chaps, to have a major about – especially a major like my brother Gus! See how it improves a chap’s manners.”

“I am vewy glad that you see it in that light, Wally,” said Arthur Augustus unsuspiciously.

“I want you to do something for me, Gus,” went on Wally, feeling that sufficient “soft sawder” had been bestowed.

“Give it a name, deah boy.”

Wally of the Third gave it a name. He explained, with the rather vociferous help of Reggie Manners, and a few observations from Levison minor, how Mr. Selby had iniquitously confiscated the Holiday Annual. And the  three fags agreed with enthusiasm that Arthur Augustus D’Arcy was the very fellow to “nip” into Mr. Selby’s study and recover the confiscated volume.

But the aristocratic face of Arthur Augustus grew more and more severe as he listened.

“Wally, Weggie, Fwank! I am surprised at you!” he said. “I am weally shocked at you! Have you nevah heard of such a thing as discipline! What you are pwoposin’ is absolutely disrespectful to you Form mastah!”

“Go hon!” said Wally. “What does it matter fat-head?”

“Weally, Wally ...!”

“Look here, Gus, we’re relying on you,” urged Wally.

“I wefuse to aid and abet you in this diswespect to your Form mastah, Wally, and I command you, as your eldah bwothah, to give up the ideah at once,” said Arthur Augustus sternly.

“My only Aunt Jane!” exclaimed D’Arcy minor, in utter disgust. “Have we been wasting all this time pulling Gussy’s silly old leg for nothing?”

“Ha, ha, ha!”

“Bai Jove! Weally, Wally ...!”

“Oh cheese it, Gus!” said Wally. “If you’re no use, you can’t expect to be allowed to go on wagging your silly old chin at a fellow. Come on you chaps; we shall have to try your major. Franky.”

“Wally!” roared Arthur Augustus. He picked up a cricket-stump. “Wally! You are a diswespectful young wascal! Bend ovah!”

“What?”

“Bend ovah that chair, and I will give you a lickin’. You have asked for it, you young wuffian, and you are goin’ to get it. Bend ovah!”

Wally exchanged a sign with his comrades. Three fags of the Third suddenly closed in on Arthur Augustus D’Arcy, and before he knew what was happening, Gussy was on the carpet of Study No. 6.

In the grasp of the three, he was rolled over, his aristocratic nose grinding into the carpet. Then Wally jerked up the cricket-stump.

Whack!

“Yawoooooh!”

There was roar from Arthur Augustus, as the stump descended on his elegant trousers.

“Ha, ha, ha!”

Three fags faded out of Study No. 6, slamming the door. Arthur Augustus rolled over again and jumped up, gasping with wrath. He groped for the stump and clutched it up, and rushed to the door and tore it open, and glared into the passage.

“You young wottahs ...!” he roared.

But the Fourth Form passage was empty. Wally & Co. had vanished.

 

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