ouse," snarled Wibberly.

"He's made captain because he's head classic," replied Fairbairn; "it
has nothing to do with his being a schoolhouse fellow."

"All very well," said Tucker, of Welch's, "but it's a precious odd
thing, all the same, that the captain is always picked out of the
schoolhouse."

"And it's a precious odd thing too," chimed in Crossfield, "that a head
classic was never to be got out of Welch's for love or money!"

This turned the laugh against the unlucky Tucker, who was notoriously a
long way off being head classic.

"What I say is," said Game, "we want an all-round man for captain--a
fellow like Bloomfield here, who's well up in the Sixth, and far away
the best fellow in the eleven and the boats. Besides, he doesn't shut
himself up like Riddell, and give himself airs. I can't see why the
doctor didn't name him. The only thing against him seems to be that
he's not a schoolhouse gentleman."

"That's the best thing about him in my opinion," said Ashley.

If Game and his friends had determined to do their best to gain friends
for the new captain, this constant bringing-up of the rivalry between
Parrett's house and the schoolhouse was the very way to do it. Many of
the schoolhouse monitors had felt as sore as anybody about the
appointments, but this sort of talk inclined not a few of them to take
Riddell's side.

"I don't want any row made on my account," said Bloomfield. "If Paddy
thinks Riddell's the best man, we have no choice in the matter."

"Haven't we, though!" said Wibberly. "We aren't going to have a fellow
put over our heads against our will--at any rate, not without having a
word in the matter."

"What can you do?" asked Coates.

"We can resign, I suppose?" said Tucker.

"Oh, yes!" said Crossfield. "And suppose Paddy took you at your word,
my boy? Sad thing for Welch's that would be!"

"I don't know why you choose to make a beast of yourself whenever I
speak," said Tucker, angrily; "I've as much right--"

"Shut up, Tucker, for goodness' sake!" said Bloomfield; "don't begin by
quarrelling."

"Well, then, what does he want to cheek me for?" demanded Tucker. "He's
a stuck-up schoolhouse prig, that's what he is!"

"And if I only had the flow of costermonger's talk which some people
possess--" began Crossfield.

"Are you going to shut up or not?" demanded Bloomfield.

"Hullo! you aren't captain yet, old man!" replied the irrepressible
Crossfield; "but if you want to