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The Triple Alliance
42 of 65
especially remember, in an uphill game, when scoring goes against them, that it is to the honour of the slaughtered Spartans and not of the victorious Persians that the pass of Thermopylae has become a household word. In addition to the loss of Thurston, who, to do him justice, was a very good forward, the school team was weakened still further by an unfortunate accident which befell Rowlands, who twisted his ankle, and was forced to leave the ground at the very commencement of the game. The Town were unusually strong, and the bulk of the back work fell on Allingford. The captain played a magnificent game, and covered himself with glory; but in spite of all that he and his men could do, after a gallant fight the visitors claimed the victory with a score of four goals to two. On the morning after the match, just before school, the members of the Triple Alliance were strolling across the entrance-hall, when they noticed a crowd of boys surrounding the notice-board. The gathering seemed to consist mainly of members of the lower classes, and the manner in which they were elbowing each other aside, laughing, talking, and gesticulating, showed that some announcement of rather uncommon interest and importance must be exposed to view. Our three friends hurried forward to join the group. Pinned to the board with an old pen-nib was a half-sheet of scribbling-paper, and inscribed thereon, in what was evidently a disguised handwriting, were some verses, which were seen at once to refer to the previous afternoon's defeat. They were as follows:-- COLLEGE V. TOWN. _Air_, "Bonnie Dundee." To the boys of the college 'twas Allingford spoke: "When we play the Town team there are heads to be broke; So let ten veteran players come now follow me, And fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh." _Chorus_. "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark your touch-line; We'll grind them to powder, and put them in brine. Let boarders and day boys all come out to see Us fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh." The ten merry men mustered quick at his call-- There were forwards, and half-backs, and goal-keeper tall; But one who was wont in the forefront to be No longer was seen in the ranks of Ronleigh. _Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc. Too soon their rejoicings and empty their boast, For the Town fellows very soon had them on toast; And the bystanders sighed as they saw frequently The ball pass the "back" of our ancient Ronleigh. _Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc. From this draw a moral, you fellows who rule: Sink personal spite when you act for the school; And whatever your notions of prefects may be, Let's have the right men in the team at Ronleigh. _Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc. Something in these doggerel lines excited Jack Vance's wrath above measure, the last verse especially raising his anger to boiling-point, so that it fairly bubbled over. Jack was a loyal-hearted youngster; he was nothing to Allingford, but Allingford was something to him, as head and leader of the community of which he himself was a member. The sight of the captain toiling manfully through the long, unequal contest of the previous afternoon, doing practically double work to make up for the loss of his fellow-back, and to prevent a losing game degenerating into a rout, rose up once more before the small boy's mind, and, as has been said before, his wrath boiled over. "Well, I call that a beastly shame. The chap who wrote it ought to be kicked round the field." "My eye," cried Grundy, "listen to what's talking! Kicked round the field, indeed! Why, I think it's jolly good: it serves Allingford and those other fellows just right for turning Thurston out of the team." "What a lie!" retorted Jack. "You know very well they didn't turn him out; he went out of his own accord." "Here, don't give me any of your cheek," said Grundy, sidling up to his antagonist in a threatening manner; "you mean to say I'm a liar, eh?" The advent of three Fifth Form boys--one of whom took Grundy by the shoulders and pushed him away, with the command to "Get out and lie on the mat"--put an end, for the time being, to the altercation. The crowd increased: boys of all ages stopped to read the verses; some few laughed, and pronounced them jolly good; but to do them justice, the greater number of Ronleians were too jealous of the honour of their school to see much fun in this attempt to lampoon their football representatives. Just as the bell was ringing for assembly, the paper was torn down by Trail, the head of the Remove, who ripped it up into fifty pieces, and in answer to Gull's inquiry what he did that for, replied, "I'll jolly soon show you!" in such a menacing tone that the questioner saw fit to turn on his heel and walk away with an alacrity of movement not altogether due to any particular eagerness to commence work. The Lower Fourth were straggling down the passage on the way to their classroom, when they heard a scuffle and the clatter of falling books. Grundy had seized Jack Vance by the collar from behind, and was screwing his knuckle into his victim's neck. "Yes; you called me a liar, didn't you?" "So you are! Let go my coat!" "Oh, so you stick to it, do you? I'll--" The sentence was interrupted by Jack giving a sudden twist and striking his antagonist a heavy blow in the chest, which sent him staggering against the opposite wall. Grundy was nearly a head taller than Vance; but the latter's blood was up, and in another moment the dogs of war would have assuredly broken loose had not the flutter of a gown at the end of the passage announced the advent of Mr. Greyling. The class had finished translating from their Latin author, and had just commenced writing an exercise, when a note was passed over to Jack Vance from the desk behind; it was short and to the point:-- "Will you fight me after twelve at the back of the pavilion?-- H. GRUNDY." Jack read the challenge, turned round and nodded, and then went calmly
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