School
monitors, who were themselves notorious far more for their constant
breaches of school law than for their observance of it, decided to
make capital at the expense of the sixth form. One day, just as the
dinner-bell rang, they locked the sixth form door, while a conclave
was being held inside. Though everyone was intended to know to whom
the credit belonged, it was understood that no one would dream of
giving evidence against them. But it so happened that their voices had
been recognized from within by one of the sixth form boys--and
"bullies" and unpopular though the culprits were, they wouldn't deny
their guilt. Their condign punishment was to be "fives-batted"
publicly in Big School--in which, however, they regained very
considerable popularity by the way they took a "spanking" without
turning a hair, though it cost no less than a dozen bats before it
was over.

The publicity of Big School was the only redemption of such a
bear-garden, but that was a good feature. It served to make us toe the
line. After tea, it was the custom to have what we called "Upper
School Boxing." A big ring was formed, boxing-gloves provided, and any
differences which one might have to settle could be arranged there.
There was more energy than science about the few occasions on which I
appeared personally in the ring, but it was an excellent safety-valve
and quite an evolutionary experience.

The exigency of having to play our games immediately after noon dinner
had naturally taught the boys at the head of athletic affairs that it
was not wise to eat too much. Dinner was the one solid meal which the
college provided, and most of us wanted it badly enough when it came
along, especially the suet puddings which went by the name of
"bollies" and were particularly satisfying. But whenever any game of
importance was scheduled, a remorseless card used to be passed round
the table just after the meat stage, bearing the ominous legend "No
bolly to-day." To make sure that there were no truants, all hands were
forced to "Hooverize." Oddly enough, beer in large blue china jugs was
freely served at every dinner. We called it "swipes," and boys,
however small, helped themselves to as much as they liked. Moreover,
as soon as the game was over, all who had their house colours might
come in and get "swipes" served to them freely through the buttery
window. Both practices, I believe, have long since fortunately fallen
into desuetude.

To encourage