spoons had almost ceased when Vickers rose
slowly to his feet, a glass of ginger-beer in his hand. He was impelled
to do so by the nudges of his neighbours, Green and Mason. His rising
was received with loud applause, which he acknowledged with a grave bow.
"I have been very much pressed--elbow-pressed," he began, "to get up and
say something. I scarcely see why I should be pitched on, unless it is
because I have more brass than the rest of you. (Hear, hear.) Anyhow,
here I am, and I'll ask three questions and then sit down. First"--and
up came one finger--"Isn't this the jolliest supper we've ever had?
(Cries of "Yes!") Very well, I'll tell you why. Reason Number One:
West's in a jolly good temper, _vide_ the groaning table and the absence
of masters. Reason Number Two: We're all in a jolly good temper, and
have done a jolly good day's work. Now, secondly--(Shouts of "Thirdly,
you mean, old man!") I mean what I say--Secondly! We had two divisions
under the first head. You may have got confused, but I haven't.
Secondly, then, we're all pretty thoroughly fagged: is anyone sorry he's
fagged? (No!) Well, the job wasn't my idea, or West's idea. But it was
somebody's, and I think we all know whose. The same somebody who has
annoyed us all horribly in the past by refusing to so much as do one
ill-natured thing. The same somebody who has steadily prevented us from
quarrelling comfortably and consistently, as we wanted to, and has
finally dragged us into this unhappy state of good-fellowship. Now for
my thirdly: Will you drink with me to that somebody's health?"
The question was received with shouting and banging, while the words,
"Bravo, Vickers! Here's to good old Brady!" "I drink to Jack of Both
Sides!" "Here's to you, Jack!" "Speech, Brady--speech!" and similar
cries filled the air.
Poor Jack felt extremely ill at ease, and not at all grateful to
Vickers. He studied his plate with the closest attention, his face
growing redder and redder each moment. Then Cadbury thumped him on the
back, and Hallett and Bacon fairly forced him to his feet. But a speech
was quite beyond Jack at that minute.
"I say, sha'n't we beg the release of the March Hare?" was all he said,
and the first person he looked at was Armitage.
Armitage, too, was the first to cry back, "Yes!"
The petition, which was written and signed before they separated, was
received favourably, and the following Monday saw the return of the
March Hare to his pla
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