Mike and Psmith

by P. G. Wodehouse

  9

  THE FIRE BRIGADE MEETING

  Cricket is the great safety valve. If you like the game, and are in aposition to play it at least twice a week, life can never be entirelygray. As time went on, and his average for Lower Borlock reached thefifties and stayed there, Mike began, though he would not have admittedit, to enjoy himself. It was not Wrykyn, but it was a very decentsubstitute.

  The only really considerable element making for discomfort now was Mr.Downing. By bad luck it was in his form that Mike had been placed onarrival; and Mr. Downing, never an easy form master to get on with,proved more than usually difficult in his dealings with Mike.

  They had taken a dislike to each other at their first meeting; and itgrew with further acquaintance. To Mike, Mr. Downing was all that amaster ought not to be, fussy, pompous, and openly influenced in hisofficial dealings with his form by his own private likes and dislikes.To Mr. Downing, Mike was simply an unamiable loafer, who did nothing forthe school and apparently had none of the healthy instincts which shouldbe implanted in the healthy boy. Mr. Downing was rather strong on thehealthy boy.

  The two lived in a state of simmering hostility, punctuated at intervalsby crises, which usually resulted in Lower Borlock having to play someunskilled laborer in place of their star batsman, employed doing"overtime."

  One of the most acute of these crises, and the most important, in thatit was the direct cause of Mike's appearance in Sedleigh cricket, had todo with the third weekly meeting of the School Fire Brigade.

  It may be remembered that this well-supported institution was under Mr.Downing's special care. It was, indeed, his pet hobby and the appleof his eye.

  Just as you had to join the Archaeological Society to secure the esteemof Mr. Outwood, so to become a member of the Fire Brigade was a safepassport to the regard of Mr. Downing. To show a keenness for cricketwas good, but to join the Fire Brigade was best of all.

  The Brigade was carefully organized. At its head was Mr. Downing, a sortof high priest; under him was a captain, and under the captain avice-captain. These two officials were those sportive allies, Stone andRobinson, of Outwood's house, who, having perceived at a very early datethe gorgeous opportunities for ragging which the Brigade offered to itsmembers, had joined young and worked their way up.

  Under them were the rank and file, about thirty in all, of whom perhapsseven were earnest workers, who looked on the Brigade in the right, orDowning, spirit. The rest were entirely frivolous.

  The weekly meetings were always full of life and excitement.

  At this point it is as well to introduce Sammy to the reader.

  Sammy, short for Sampson, was a young bull terrier belonging to Mr.Downing. If it is possible for a man to have two apples of his eye,Sammy was the other. He was a large, lighthearted dog with a white coat,an engaging expression, the tongue of an anteater, and a manner whichwas a happy blend of hurricane and circular saw. He had long legs, atenor voice, and was apparently made of India rubber.

  Sammy was a great favorite in the school, and a particular friend ofMike's, the Wrykynian being always a firm ally of every dog he met aftertwo minutes' acquaintance.

  In passing, Jellicoe owned a clockwork rat, much in request duringFrench lessons.

  We will now proceed to the painful details.

  * * * * *

  The meetings of the Fire Brigade were held after school in Mr. Downing'sform room. The proceedings always began in the same way, by the readingof the minutes of the last meeting. After that the entertainment variedaccording to whether the members happened to be fertile or not in ideasfor the disturbing of the peace.

  Today they were in very fair form.

  As soon as Mr. Downing had closed the minute book, Wilson, of the SchoolHouse, held up his hand.

  "Well, Wilson?"

  "Please, sir, couldn't we have a uniform for the Brigade?"

  "A uniform?" Mr. Downing pondered.

  "Red, with green stripes, sir."

  Red, with a thin green stripe, was the Sedleigh color.

  "Shall I put it to the vote, sir?" asked Stone.

  "One moment, Stone."

  "Those in favor of the motion move to the left, those against it to theright."

  A scuffling of feet, a slamming of desk lids and an upset blackboard,and the meeting had divided.

  Mr. Downing rapped irritably on his desk.

  "Sit down!" he said. "Sit down! I won't have this noise and disturbance.Stone, sit down--Wilson, get back to your place."

  "Please, sir, the motion is carried by twenty-five votes to six."

  "Please, sir, may I go and get measured this evening?"

  "Please, sir--"

  "Si-_lence!_ The idea of a uniform is, of course, out of the question."

  "Oo-oo-oo-oo, sir-r-r!"

  "Be _quiet!_ Entirely out of the question. We cannot plunge intoneedless expense. Stone, listen to me. I cannot have this noise anddisturbance! Another time when a point arises it must be settled by ashow of hands. Well, Wilson?"

  "Please, sir, may we have helmets?"

  "Very useful as a protection against falling timbers, sir," saidRobinson.

  "I don't think my people would be pleased, sir, if they knew I was goingout to fires without a helmet," said Stone.

  The whole strength of the company: "Please, sir, may we have helmets?"

  "Those in favor ..." began Stone.

  Mr. Downing banged on his desk. "Silence! Silence!! Silence!!! Helmetsare, of course, perfectly preposterous."

  "Oo-oo-oo-oo, sir-r-r!"

  "But, sir, the danger!"

  "Please, sir, the falling timbers!"

  The Fire Brigade had been in action once and once only in the memory ofman, and that time it was a haystack which had burned itself out just asthe rescuers had succeeded in fastening the hose to the hydrant.

  "Silence!"

  "Then, please, sir, couldn't we have an honor cap? It wouldn't beexpensive, and it would be just as good as a helmet for all the timbersthat are likely to fall on our heads."

  Mr. Downing smiled a wry smile.

  "Our Wilson is facetious," he remarked frostily.

  "Sir, no, sir! I wasn't facetious! Or couldn't we have tasseled capslike the first fifteen have? They--"

  "Wilson, leave the room!"

  "Sir, _please_, sir!"

  "This moment, Wilson. And," as he reached the door, "do me one hundredlines."

  A pained "OO-oo-oo, sir-r-r," was cut off by the closing door.

  Mr. Downing proceeded to improve the occasion. "I deplore this growingspirit of flippancy," he said. "I tell you I deplore it! It is notright! If this Fire Brigade is to be of solid use, there must be less ofthis flippancy. We must have keenness. I want you boys above all to bekeen. I...? What is that noise?"

  From the other side of the door proceeded a sound like water gurglingfrom a bottle, mingled with cries half suppressed, as if somebody werebeing prevented from uttering them by a hand laid over his mouth. Thesufferer appeared to have a high voice.

  There was a tap at the door and Mike walked in. He was not alone. Thosenear enough to see, saw that he was accompanied by Jellicoe's clockworkrat, which moved rapidly over the floor in the direction of theopposite wall.

  "May I fetch a book from my desk, sir?" asked Mike.

  "Very well--be quick, Jackson; we are busy."

  Being interrupted in one of his addresses to the Brigade irritated Mr.Downing.

  The muffled cries grew more distinct.

  "What ... is ... that ... noise?" shrilled Mr. Downing.

  "Noise, sir?" asked Mike, puzzled.

  "I think it's something outside the window, sir," said Stone helpfully.

  "A bird, I think, sir," said Robinson.

  "Don't be absurd!" snapped Mr. Downing. "It's outside the door. Wilson!"

  "Yes, sir?" said a voice "off."

  "Are you making that whining noise?"

  "Whining noise, sir? No, sir, I'm not making a wh
ining noise."

  "What _sort_ of noise, sir?" inquired Mike, as many Wrykynians had askedbefore him. It was a question invented by Wrykyn for use in just such acase as this.

  "I do not propose," said Mr. Downing acidly, "to imitate the noise; youcan all hear it perfectly plainly. It is a curious whining noise."

  "They are mowing the cricket field, sir," said the invisible Wilson."Perhaps that's it."

  "It may be one of the desks squeaking, sir," put in Stone. "They dosometimes."

  "Or somebody's shoes, sir," added Robinson.

  "Silence! Wilson?"

  "Yes, sir?" bellowed the unseen one.

  "Don't shout at me from the corridor like that. Come in."

  "Yes, sir!"

  As he spoke the muffled whining changed suddenly to a series of tenorshrieks, and the India-rubber form of Sammy bounded into the room likean excited kangaroo.

  Willing hands had by this time deflected the clockwork rat from the wallto which it had been steering, and pointed it up the alleyway betweenthe two rows of desks. Mr. Downing, rising from his place, was just intime to see Sammy with a last leap spring on his prey and beginworrying it.

  Chaos reigned.

  "A rat!" shouted Robinson.

  The twenty-three members of the Brigade who were not earnest instantlydealt with the situation, each in the manner that seemed proper to him.Some leaped onto forms, others flung books, all shouted. It was astirring, bustling scene.

  Sammy had by this time disposed of the clockwork rat, and was nowstanding, like Marius, among the ruins barking triumphantly.

  The banging on Mr. Downing's desk resembled thunder. It rose above allthe other noises till in time they gave up the competition anddied away.

  Mr. Downing shot out orders, threats, and penalties with the rapidity ofa Bren gun.

  "Stone, sit down! Donovan, if you do not sit down you will be severelypunished. Henderson, one hundred lines for gross disorder! Windham, thesame! Go to your seat, Vincent. What are you doing, Broughton-Knight? Iwill not have this disgraceful noise and disorder! The meeting is at anend; go quietly from the room, all of you. Jackson and Wilson, remain._Quietly_, I said, Durand! Don't shuffle your feet in thatabominable way."

  Crash!

  "Wolferstan, I distinctly saw you upset that blackboard with a movementof your hand--one hundred lines. Go quietly from the room, everybody."

  The meeting dispersed.

  "Jackson and Wilson, come here. What's the meaning of this disgracefulconduct? Put that dog out of the room, Jackson."

  Mike removed the yelling Sammy and shut the door on him.

  "Well, Wilson?"

  "Please, sir, I was playing with a clockwork rat--"

  "What business have you to be playing with clockwork rats?"

  "Then I remembered," said Mike, "that I had left my Horace in my desk,so I came in--"

  "And by a fluke, sir," said Wilson, as one who tells of strange things,"the rat happened to be pointing in the same direction, so he camein, too."

  "I met Sammy on the gravel outside and he followed me."

  "I tried to collar him, but when you told me to come in, sir, I had tolet him go, and he came in after the rat."

  It was plain to Mr. Downing that the burden of sin was shared equally byboth culprits. Wilson had supplied the rat, Mike the dog; but Mr.Downing liked Wilson and disliked Mike. Wilson was in the Fire Brigade,frivolous at times, it was true, but nevertheless a member. Also he keptwicket for the school. Mike was a member of the Archaeological Society,and had refused to play cricket.

  Mr. Downing allowed these facts to influence him in passing sentence.

  "One hundred lines, Wilson," he said. "You may go."

  Wilson departed with the air of a man who has had a great deal of fun,and paid very little for it.

  Mr. Downing turned to Mike. "You will stay in on Saturday afternoon,Jackson; it will interfere with your Archaeological studies, I fear, butit may teach you that we have no room at Sedleigh for boys who spendtheir time loafing about and making themselves a nuisance. We are a keenschool; this is no place for boys who do nothing but waste their time.That will do, Jackson."

  And Mr. Downing walked out of the room. In affairs of this kind a masterhas a habit of getting the last word.