School Stories by P. G. Wodehouse (children's ebooks free online .TXT) 📕

of Appleby’s. Now in the matter of absolute outsiderishness Chadwick, of Appleby’s, was to Merrett, of Seymour’s, as captain is to subaltern. Linton was horrified, and said so.

“What do you want to do it for?” he asked. “What’s the point of it? You can’t like those chaps.”

“Awfully good sorts when you get to know them,” said Dunstable.

“You’ve been some time finding it out.”

“I know. Chadwick’s an acquired taste. By the way, I’m giving a tea on Thursday. Will you come?”

“Who’s going to be there?” inquired Linton warily.

“Well, Chadwick for one; and Merrett and Ruthven and three other chaps.”

“Then,” said Linton with some warmth, “I think you’ll have to do without me. I believe you’re mad.”

And he went off in disgust to the fives-courts.

When on the following Thursday Dunstable walked into Ring’s Stores with his five guests, and demanded six public-school teas, the manager was perhaps justified in allowing a triumphant smile to wander across his face. It was a signal victory for him. “No free list today, sir,” he said. “Entirely suspended.”

“Never mind,” said Dunstable, “I’m good for six shillings.”

“Free list?” said Merrett, as the manager retired, “I didn’t know there was one.”

“There isn’t. Only he and I palled up so much the other day that he offered me a tea for nothing.”

“Didn’t you take it?”

“No. I went to Cook’s.”

“Rotten hole, Cook’s. I’m never going there again,” said Chadwick. “You take my tip, Dun, old chap, and come here.”

“Dun, old chap,” smiled amiably.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking up from the teapot, into which he had been pouring water; “you can be certain of the food at Cook’s.”

“What do you mean? So you can here.”

“Oh,” said Dunstable, “I didn’t know. I’ve never had tea here before. But I’ve often heard that American food upsets one sometimes.”

By this time, the tea having stood long enough, he poured out, and the meal began.

Merrett and his friends were hearty feeders, and conversation languished for some time. Then Chadwick leaned back in his chair, and breathed heavily.

“You couldn’t get stuff like that at Cook’s,” he said.

“I suppose it is a bit different,” said Dunstable. “Have any of you⁠ ⁠… noticed something queer⁠ ⁠… ?”

Merrett stared at Ruthven. Ruthven stared at Merrett.

“I.⁠ ⁠…” said Merrett.

“D’you know.⁠ ⁠…” said Ruthven.

Chadwick’s face was a delicate green.

“I believe,” said Dunstable, “the stuff⁠ ⁠… was⁠ ⁠… poisoned. I.⁠ ⁠…”

“Drink this,” said the school doctor, briskly, bending over Dunstable’s bed with a medicine-glass in his hand, “and be ashamed of yourself. The fact is you’ve over-eaten yourself. Nothing more and nothing less. Why can’t you boys be content to feed moderately?”

“I don’t think I ate much, sir,” protested Dunstable. “It must have been what I ate. I went to that new American place.”

“So you went there, too? Why, I’ve just come from attending a bilious boy in Mr. Seymour’s house. He said he had been at the American place, too.”

“Was that Merrett, sir? He was one of the party. We were all bad. We can’t all have eaten too much.”

The doctor looked thoughtful.

“H’m. Curious. Very curious. Do you remember what you had?”

“I had some things the man called buckwheat cakes, with some stuff he said was maple syrup.”

“Bah. American trash.” The doctor was a staunch Briton, conservative in his views both on politics and on food. “Why can’t you boys eat good English food? I must tell the headmaster of this. I haven’t time to look after the school if all the boys are going to poison themselves. You lie still and try to go to sleep, and you’ll be right enough in no time.”

But Dunstable did not go to sleep. He stayed awake to interview Linton, who came to pay him a visit.

“Well,” said Linton, looking down at the sufferer with an expression that was a delicate blend of pity and contempt, “you’ve made a nice sort of ass of yourself, haven’t you! I don’t know if it’s any consolation to you, but Merrett’s just as bad as you are. And I hear the others are, too. So now you see what comes of going to Ring’s instead of Cook’s.”

“And now,” said Dunstable, “if you’ve quite finished, you can listen to me for a bit.⁠ ⁠…”

“So now you know,” he concluded.

Linton’s face beamed with astonishment and admiration.

“Well, I’m hanged,” he said. “You’re a marvel. But how did you know it wouldn’t poison you?”

“I relied on you. You said it wasn’t poison when I asked you in the lab. My faith in you is touching.”

“But why did you take any yourself?”

“Sort of idea of diverting suspicion. But the thing isn’t finished yet. Listen.”

Linton left the dormitory five minutes later with a look of a young disciple engaged on some holy mission.

Part III

“You think the food is unwholesome, then?” said the headmaster after dinner that night.

“Unwholesome!” said the school doctor. “It must be deadly. It must be positively lethal. Here we have six ordinary, strong, healthy boys struck down at one fell swoop as if there were a pestilence raging. Why⁠—”

“One moment,” said the headmaster. “Come in.”

A small figure appeared in the doorway.

“Please, sir,” said the figure in the strained voice of one speaking a “piece” which he has committed to memory. “Mr. Seymour says please would you mind letting the doctor come to his house at once because Linton is ill.”

“What!” exclaimed the doctor. “What’s the matter with him?”

“Please, sir, I believe it’s buckwheat cakes.”

“What! And here’s another of them!”

A second small figure had appeared in the doorway.

“Sir, please, sir,” said the newcomer, “Mr. Bradfield says may the doctor⁠—”

“And what boy is it this time?”

“Please, sir, it’s Brown. He went to Ring’s Stores⁠—”

The headmaster rose.

“Perhaps you had better go at once, Oakes,” he said. “This is becoming serious. That place is a positive menace to the community. I shall put it out of bounds tomorrow morning.”

And when Dunstable and Linton, pale but cheerful, made their way⁠—slowly, as befitted convalescents⁠—to Cook’s two days afterwards, they had to sit on the counter. All the other seats were occupied.

Shields’ and the Cricket Cup

The house cricket cup