ymond Martin, M.P., as he drove up, watched by many eyes, to the
Head's house.

"Looks a bit of a bargee," was McTurk's comment. "Shouldn't be surprised
if he was a Radical. He rowed the driver about the fare. I heard him."

"That was his giddy patriotism," Beetle explained. After tea they joined
the rush for seats, secured a private and invisible corner, and began
to criticise. Every gas-jet was lit. On the little dais at the far end
stood the Head's official desk, whence Mr. Martin would discourse, and a
ring of chairs for the masters.

Entered then Foxy, with official port, and leaned something like a
cloth rolled round a stick against the desk. No one in authority was yet
present, so the school applauded, crying: "What's that, Foxy? What are
you stealin' the gentleman's brolly for?--We don't birch here. We cane!
Take away that bauble!--Number off from the right"--and so forth, till
the entry of the Head and the masters ended all demonstrations.

"One good job--the Common-room hate this as much as we do. Watch King
wrigglin' to get out of the draft."

"Where's the Raymondiferous Martin? Punctuality, my beloved 'earers, is
the image o' war--"

"Shut up. Here's the giddy Dook. Golly, what a dewlap!" Mr. Martin,
in evening dress, was undeniably throaty--a tall, generously designed,
pink-and-white man. Still, Beetle need not have been coarse.

"Look at his back while he's talkin' to the Head. Vile bad form to turn
your back on the audience! He's a Philistine--a Bopper--a Jebusite--an'
a Hivite." McTurk leaned back and sniffed contemptuously.

In a few colorless words, the Head introduced the speaker and sat
down amid applause. When Mr. Martin took the applause to himself, they
naturally applauded more than ever. It was some time before he could
begin. He had no knowledge of the school--its tradition or heritage. He
did not know that the last census showed that eighty per cent. of the
boys had been born abroad--in camp, cantonment, or upon the high seas;
or that seventy-five per cent. were sons of officers in one or other of
the services--Willoughbys, Paulets, De Castros, Maynes, Randalls, after
their kind--looking to follow their fathers' profession. The Head might
have told him this, and much more; but, after an hour-long dinner in his
company, the Head decided to say nothing whatever. Mr. Raymond Martin
seemed to know so much already.

He plunged into his speech with a long-drawn, rasping "Well, boys,"
that,