ped to awaken
his lifelong Devotion to the service of the poor And the oppressed.

CHAPTER IX

BLACK SPOTS

"The Avon bears to endless years
A magic voice along,
Where Shakespeare strayed in Stratford's shade,
And waked the world to song.
We heard the music soft and wild,
We thrilled to pulses new;
The winds that reared the Avon's child
Were Herga's[1] nurses too."

That evening John told Caesar what Warde had said to him, and then
added, "I mean to have a shot at 'the Swan of Avon.'" Caesar looked
glum.

"But how about the remove? We'd agreed to stay in the Second Fifth
till Christmas. It's the jolliest form in the school."

"If we put our backs--and heads--into Trials,[2] we can easily get a
remove."

"Blow Trials."

John turned aside.

"Look here, Jonathan," said Caesar, eagerly. "To please me, give up
your swatting scheme. We can't spoil the end of this jolly term."

He caught hold of John's arm, squeezing it affectionately. Never had
our hero been so sorely tempted.

"We must stick together, you and I," entreated Desmond.

"No," said John.

"As you please," Caesar replied coldly.

A detestable week followed. John tackled his Shakespeare alone,
working doggedly. Then, quite suddenly, the giant gripped him. He had
always possessed a remarkable memory, and as a child he had learnt by
heart many passages out of the plays (a fact well known to the crafty
Warde); but these he had swallowed without digesting them. Now he
became keen, the keener because he met with violent opposition from the
Caterpillar and the Duffer, who were of opinion that Shakespeare was a
"back number."

John won the prize, and on the following Speech Day saw his mother's
face radiant with pride and happiness, as he received the Medal from
the Head Master's hands.

"You look as pleased as if I'd got my Flannels," said John.

"Surely this Medal is a greater thing?"

"Oh, mum, you don't know much about boys."

"Perhaps not, but," her eyes twinkled, "I know something about
Shakespeare, and he's a friend that will stand by you when cricketing
days are over."

"If you're pleased, so am I," said John.

Scaife got his Flannels; and at Lord's his fielding was mentioned as
the finest ever seen in a Public School match. John witnessed the game
from the top of the Trent coach, and he stopped at Trent House. But he
didn't enjoy his exeat, because he knew that Caesar was in trouble.