m with a sort of
indulgent sentimentality. He never saw very much good in a School House
captain as long as he was there; but as soon as he left, all his faults
were forgotten and virtues that he had never possessed were flung at him
in profusion. The result was that "the Bull" said to the School House
captain of each generation: "I have had more trouble with you than any
Fernhurst boy I have ever met. You can't see beyond the length of your
own dining-hall. See big. See the importance of Fernhurst, and the
insignificance of yourself."

But no one was more sorry than Armour. He did not want responsibility;
he had not sought for it. He wished to have fought in the School House
battles as a private, not as an officer. He loved the House, and longed
for its success, and trembled to think that he might ruin its chances by
a weak and vacillating captaincy. Moreover, he felt that he had no one
to back him up. Meredith, Robey and Simonds, the other members of the
First Fifteen in the House, were all grousing and wondering how large a
score the outhouses would run up in the Three Cock. No one placed any
confidence in his abilities. He was entirely alone.

The next day was pouring wet; the ground was under water. Most house
captains would have sent their houses for a run. But Armour wanted to
make his start as early as possible. He couldn't bear to delay. That
afternoon the probable Thirds side played against the rest of the House,
with the exception of the Second colours. Armour had never felt so
nervous before; it was actually the first time he had refereed on a
game. Jeffries was captain of the Thirds, and kicked off. It was, of
course, a scrappy game. On such a day good football was impossible. The
outsides hardly touched the ball once. But the forwards, covered in mud
from head to foot, had their full share of work. Jeffries was
ubiquitous; he led the "grovel" (as the scrum was called at Fernhurst),
and kept it together. Gordon had very little chance of distinguishing
himself; but he did one or two dribbles, and managed to collar Mansell
the only time he looked like getting away. Lovelace minor, who played
fly-half, had nothing to do except stop forward rushes, was kicked all
over his body, got very cold and never had a chance once. He was
utterly miserable the whole hour. All this was in favour of Armour. He
knew nothing about three-quarter work, but he had played forward ever
since he had gone to the Fernhurst preparator