Billy Bunter and the School Rebellion

The boys at Greyfriars school, the home of Billy Bunter, have revolted against the headmaster and set up their own school at a mansion called High Oaks. In this extract from Billy Bunter and the School Rebellion by Frank Richards they await the arrival of their new headmaster, Mr. Buncombe – and not everyone is pleased to see him.

After a run in with the bully of the Remove, Bolsover major, the new headmaster asserts his authority.

Mr. Buncombe laid on the cane with all the strength of his arm, which was considerable.
Six terrible swipes brought a succession of fearful yells from the bully of the Remove.
The juniors looked on breathlessly.

Mr. Buncombe stepped from the car.

He stood on the steps of High Oaks, surveying the mob of juniors who gathered round. Lord Mauleverer stood by his side as the car glided away down the drive to the gates.

“So that’s the man!” snorted Bolsover major.

“I say, you fellows, he’s rather a guy! Look at his specs!”

And Billy Bunter blinked through his own big glasses at the horn-rimmed spectacles of Mr. Buncombe with great entertainment.

“What a specimen!” grinned Skinner.

“Not much of him, but what there is isn’t much to look at!” remarked Sidney James Snoop.

“Order!” shouted Bob Cherry.

“Rats!”

“Shut up, Bolsover.”

“Go and eat coke!”

“Rag him!” yelled Stott.

“Order!”

There was a roar of contradictory voices.

A trace of uneasiness might have been observed in Mr. Buncombe’s wrinkled, owlish, spectacled visage.

He backed a little behind Lord Mauleverer.

“This—this reception—” he stammered.

“I’m afraid some of the fellows are a bit unruly, sir,” said Lord Mauleverer apologetically.

“But we’ll jolly soon bring them to order. Shut up, you ruffians!”

“Yah!”

“Go and eat coke, Mauly!”

“Duck that old image in the pond!” yelled Bolsover major.

“Good egg!”

“Rally round, you men!” exclaimed Lord Mauleverer.

“Yes, rather!”

Harry Wharton and Co. formed a bodyguard round the new headmaster at once. Whatever they thought of Mr. Buncombe, and of his accepting the extraordinary appointment Lord Mauleverer had offered him, they were ready to stand by him and uphold his authority.

“Line up, you fellows!” said Harry Wharton.

“The line-upfulness is terrific.”

“Back up!” shouted Peter Todd.

Toddy joined the bodyguard, and Squiff, and Tom Brown, and the Bounder and Redwing followed suit. Nearly half the form were on the side of law and order; and of the others several stood aside as neutral. Bolsover major and Co. found themselves in a considerable minority.

But the bully of the Remove was in a truculent temper.

Rag the old donkey!” he roared.

Shut up, Bolsover!”

Rag him!” yelled Bolsover; and he led a rush at Mr. Buncombe.

That gentleman was quite reassured now. He knew the Removites better than they supposed; and he was aware that all the hefty fighting-men of the Form had raffled for his protection.

“This is most disorderly!” he repeated in his squeaky voice. “I was—hem—far from expecting this! Order! I repeat— order!”

“Rats to you!” roared Bolsover.

He came on with a rush; but in face of the determined attitude of Lord Mauleverer’s supporters, Bolsover’s followers melted away. Bolsover arrived alone within punching distance.

And the punching, when it started, was all received by Bolsover major, the whole bodyguard falling upon him and smiting him hip and thigh.

It is said to be more blessed to give than to receive; and that is undoubtedly true in the matter of punches straight from the shoulder.

Bolsover major went spinning off the steps, and he crashed down on the drive with a heavy concussion and a loud roar.

Mr. Buncombe stepped forward. He was feeling sure of himself now.

“What is your name, boy?” he asked.

The bully of the Remove glared at him.

“Find out!” he snapped.

“That is not the way to address your headmaster!”

“Rats!”

“Discipline must be restored in this school,” said Mr. Buncombe.

“School!” yelled Bolsover derisively. “It ain’t a school, and you ain’t a schoolmaster, or you wouldn’t be here. We belong to Greyfriars, and we’ve chucked our headmaster, and we’re not taking on another—see?”

“Shut up, Bolsover!”

“Rats to you!”

“Your name is Bolsover, I understand,” said Mr. Buncombe. “Bolsover, you will obey my orders!”

“Catch me!” sneered Bolsover.

“Mauleverer!”

“Yaas, sir!”

“I presume that there is a cane in the school?”

“Oh, yaas!”

“Kindly fetch it here for me!”

“Certainly, sir.”

Lord Mauleverer went in for the cane. Bolsover major gave the horn-rimmed gentleman a glare of concentrated wrath.

“You think you’re going to lick me?” he bawled.

“I am going to flog you, as an example,” said Mr. Buncombe. “Why, you—you—you blinking old owl, I’ll smash you if you lay a finger on me! I could knock you into pieces with one punch!”

“Take hold of that boy!” said Mr. Buncombe, pointing at the bully of the Remove, and addressing the Famous Five. “Bend him over, and hold him!”

The next moment Bolsover major was struggling furiously in the grasp of five pairs of hands.
Bolsover was a powerful fellow; but his hefty struggles availed him nothing. He was unceremoniously dragged over, bent in a favourable position for a flogging, and held there in a grasp of iron. Lord Mauleverer came back with the cane and handed it to Mr. Buncombe. That gentleman’s eyes gleamed over his horn-rimmed glasses. There had been an occasion when Bolsover of the Remove had kicked Ponsonby of Highcliffe. He was going to pay for that kick now, though he was quite unaware of it.

Mr. Buncombe flourished the cane, and amid a breathless silence on the part of the Remove brought it down on Bolsover major with a terrific cut.

Bolsover’s yell rang far beyond the confines of High Oaks.

Whack, whack, whack!

Mr. Buncombe laid on the cane with all the strength of his arm, which was considerable.
Six terrible swipes brought a succession of fearful yells from the bully of the Remove.
The juniors looked on breathlessly.

They had seen floggings at Greyfriars, some of them severe; but they had never witnessed such a thrashing as this.

Bolsover major fairly crumpled up under it.

“Leggo!” he yelled. “I give in. Let a fellow go! Oh, my hat! Keep that brute off! Yaroooogh! I give in! Ow!”

“That’s six sir,” hinted Harry Wharton, as Mr. Buncombe raised the cane for another lash.

“Silence, Wharton!”

“But, sir—”

“Hold your tongue, boy!”

Wharton coloured, and was silent. The cane came down again, with another terrific swipe, and Bolsover major fairly howled.

“Isn’t that enough, sir?” asked Lord Mauleverer.

“Silence!”

“Oh, begad!”

Harry Wharton and Co. exchanged a glance, and released Bolsover major. He had asked for a thrashing, but there had been enough of it, in the opinion of the Famous Five. Bolsover major squirmed away just as the cane descended for the eighth time, and escaped the slash.

“Yow-ow-ow-ow!” he roared.

Mr. Buncombe tucked the cane under his arm.

“That will do,” he said. “Take that as a warning, Bolsover. You will be flogged again if you are disobedient.”

“Yow-ow-ow!”

“Now go into Hall!” said Mr. Buncombe.

In deep silence, the Removites marched into Hall, Bolsover major limping in with the rest, his rugged face white and furious, but all the truculence taken out of him, for the time being. And when the roll was called Bolsover major answered to his name as obediently and promptly as if he had been in the old hall at Greyfriars, with Dr. Locke calling the roll.

Skinner and Co. were even more prompt. The look on Bolsover’s face was enough for the malcontents of the Form. And, for the present, at least, there was no resistance to the authority of the new Head of High Oaks.

Extracted from Billy Bunter and the School Rebellion, by Frank Richards, published by Fleetway Publications and available on the Friardale website.

Picture credit: Fleetway Publications

 

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