t that he had
sufficient evidence to expel half the Fifteen and the whole Eleven.

At this time Gordon found school life inexpressibly joyful. There were
minor troubles, but they were few. The only thing that really worried
him was Corps Parade. This infliction occurred once every week, and for
two hours Gordon passed through hell. He was in a recruits' section
under a man from Rogers' house, who was a typical product of his house.
He was oily, yellow and unpleasant to look upon. He also loathed Gordon.
There was a feud between the men from Rogers' and the School House.

Rogers was the captain in command of the corps. To Gordon he seemed
exactly like what Cicero must have been, loud, contentious, smashing
down pasteboard castles with a terrific din. He was amazingly arrogant
and conceited. In the pulpit and on the parade ground he was in his
element. The School House had for years been notorious for their
slackness on parade. In drill and musketry competitions they had
invariably come out bottom, and Rogers hated them for it. It was indeed
a great sight to see the School House half company at work. Everyone was
fed to death, and took no pains to hide the fact. Once Rogers had said
to the House colour-sergeant:

"Phillips, form up your men facing right."

Phillips looked round at them, thought for a second or two and then
drawled: "Look here, you fellows, shove round there." And the subsequent
sarcastic comment was quite lost on him. He was a good forward, but not
too clever. He was proof against epigram.

It was truly a noble sight to see Lovelace minor come on parade. Every
week exactly two seconds late, in the dead silence that followed the
sergeant-major's thundered "Parade!" he would dash through the school
gate, puffing and blowing, his drum knocking against his equipment, his
hat crooked, half his buttons undone. He would barge through two
sections, rush to the School House half-company, bang his rifle on the
ground, and say to his companion in a stage whisper: "I wasn't noticed,
was I?"

But these were only incidents. As a whole everything connected with the
corps was "a hell upon earth." Field days consisted of a long march, a
sublime mix-up, a speech from Rogers, a bad tea, then a long march home.
No one knew what was happening; no one cared. It was a sheer waste of
time. Only Rogers really enjoyed himself.

Then suddenly it occurred to Clarke that such a state of affairs was a
disgrace to the House. He