Tales of St. Austin's

by P. G. Wodehouse

  [9]

  HOW PAYNE BUCKED UP

  It was Walkinshaw's affair from the first. Grey, the captain of the StAustin's Fifteen, was in the infirmary nursing a bad knee. To him cameCharles Augustus Walkinshaw with a scheme. Walkinshaw was footballsecretary, and in Grey's absence acted as captain. Besides these twothere were only a couple of last year's team left--Reade and Barrett,both of Philpott's House.

  'Hullo, Grey, how's the knee?' said Walkinshaw.

  'How's the team getting on?' he said.

  'Well, as far as I can see,' said Walkinshaw, 'we ought to have arather good season, if you'd only hurry up and come back. We beat ajolly hot lot of All Comers yesterday. Smith was playing for them. TheBlue, you know. And lots of others. We got a goal and a try to_nil_.'

  'Good,' said Grey. 'Who did anything for us? Who scored?'

  'I got in once. Payne got the other.'

  'By Jove, did he? What sort of a game is he playing this year?'

  The moment had come for Walkinshaw to unburden himself to his scheme.He proceeded to do so.

  'Not up to much,' he said. 'Look here, Grey, I've got rather an idea.It's my opinion Payne's not bucking up nearly as much as he might. Doyou mind if I leave him out of the next game?'

  Grey stared. The idea was revolutionary.

  'What! Leave him out? My good man, he'll be the next chap to get hiscolours. He's a cert. for his cap.'

  'That's just it. He knows he's a cert., and he's slacking on thestrength of it. Now, my idea is that if you slung him out for a matchor two, he'd buck up extra hard when he came into the team again. Can'tI have a shot at it?'

  Grey weighed the matter. Walkinshaw pressed home his arguments.

  'You see, it isn't like cricket. At cricket, of course, it might put achap off awfully to be left out, but I don't see how it can hurt aman's play at footer. Besides, he's beginning to stick on sidealready.'

  'Is he, by Jove?' said Grey. This was the unpardonable sin. 'Well, I'lltell you what you can do if you like. Get up a scratch game, FirstFifteen _v._ Second, and make him captain of the Second.'

  'Right,' said Walkinshaw, and retired beaming.

  Walkinshaw, it may be remarked at once, to prevent mistakes, was awell-meaning idiot. There was no doubt about his being well-meaning.Also, there was no doubt about his being an idiot. He was continuallygetting insane ideas into his head, and being unable to get them outagain. This matter of Payne was a good example of his customarymethods. He had put his hand on the one really first-class forward StAustin's possessed, and proposed to remove him from the team. And yetthrough it all he was perfectly well-meaning. The fact that personallyhe rather disliked Payne had, to do him justice, no weight at all withhim. He would have done the same by his bosom friend under likecircumstances. This is the only excuse that can be offered for him. Itwas true that Payne regarded himself as a certainty for his colours, asfar as anything can be considered certain in this vale of sorrow. Butto accuse him of trading on this, and, to use the vernacular, ofputting on side, was unjust to a degree.

  On the afternoon following this conversation Payne, who was a member ofDacre's House, came into his study and banged his books down on thetable with much emphasis. This was a sign that he was feelingdissatisfied with the way in which affairs were conducted in the world.Bowden, who was asleep in an armchair--he had been staying in with acold--woke with a start. Bowden shared Payne's study. He played centrethree-quarter for the Second Fifteen.

  'Hullo!' he said.

  Payne grunted. Bowden realized that matters had not been going wellwith him. He attempted to soothe him with conversation, choosing whathe thought would be a congenial topic.

  'What's on on Saturday?' he asked.

  'Scratch game. First _v._ Second.'

  Bowden groaned.

  'I know those First _v._ Second games,' he said. 'They turn theSecond out to get butchered for thirty-five minutes each way, toimprove the First's combination. It may be fun for the First, but it'snot nearly so rollicking for us. Look here, Payne, if you find me withthe pill at any time, you can let me down easy, you know. You needn'tgo bringing off any of your beastly gallery tackles.'

  'I won't,' said Payne. 'To start with, it would be against rules. Wehappen to be on the same side.'

  'Rot, man; I'm not playing for the First.' This was the onlyexplanation that occurred to him.

  'I'm playing for the Second.'

  'What! Are you certain?'

  'I've seen the list. They're playing Babington instead of me.'

  'But why? Babington's no good.'

  'I think they have a sort of idea I'm slacking or something. At anyrate, Walkinshaw told me that if I bucked up I might get tried again.'

  'Silly goat,' said Bowden. 'What are you going to do?'

  'I'm going to take his advice, and buck up.'

  II

  He did. At the beginning of the game the ropes were lined by somethirty spectators, who had come to derive a languid enjoyment fromseeing the First pile up a record score. By half-time their numbers hadrisen to an excited mob of something over three hundred, and the secondhalf of the game was fought out to the accompaniment of a storm ofyells and counter yells such as usually only belonged toschool-matches. The Second Fifteen, after a poor start, suddenly awoketo the fact that this was not going to be the conventional massacre byany means. The First had scored an unconverted try five minutes afterthe kick-off, and it was after this that the Second began to gettogether. The school back bungled the drop out badly, and had to findtouch in his own twenty-five, and after that it was anyone's game. Thescrums were a treat to behold. Payne was a monument of strength. Timeafter time the Second had the ball out to their three-quarters, andjust after half-time Bowden slipped through in the corner. The kickfailed, and the two teams, with their scores equal now, settled downgrimly to fight the thing out to a finish. But though they remained ontheir opponents' line for most of the rest of the game, the Second didnot add to their score, and the match ended in a draw of three pointsall.

  The first intimation Grey received of this came to him late in theevening. He had been reading a novel which, whatever its other meritsmay have been, was not interesting, and it had sent him to sleep. Heawoke to hear a well-known voice observe with some unction: 'Ah! M'yes.Leeches and hot fomentations.' This effectually banished sleep. Ifthere were two things in the world that he loathed, they were leechesand hot fomentations, and the School doctor apparently regarded them asa panacea for every kind of bodily ailment, from a fractured skull to acold in the head. It was this gentleman who had just spoken, but Grey'salarm vanished as he perceived that the words had no personalapplication to himself. The object of the remark was a fellow-suffererin the next bed but one. Now Grey was certain that when he had fallenasleep there had been nobody in that bed. When, therefore, the medicalexpert had departed on his fell errand, the quest of leeches and hotfomentations, he sat up and gave tongue.

  'Who's that in that bed?' he asked.

  'Hullo, Grey,' replied a voice. 'Didn't know you were awake. I've cometo keep you company.'

  'That you, Barrett? What's up with you?'

  'Collar-bone. Dislocated it or something. Reade's over in that corner.He has bust his ankle. Oh, yes, we've been having a nice, cheeryafternoon,' concluded Barrett bitterly.

  'Great Scott! How did it happen?'

  'Payne.'

  'Where? In your collar-bone?'

  'Yes. That wasn't what I meant, though. What I was explaining was thatPayne got hold of me in the middle of the field, and threw me intotouch. After which he fell on me. That was enough for my simple needs.I'm not grasping.'

  'How about Reade?'

  'The entire Second scrum collapsed on top of Reade. When we dug him outhis ankle was crocked. Mainspring gone, probably. Then they gathered upthe pieces and took them gently away. I don't know how it all ended.'

  Just then Walkinshaw burst into the room. He had a large bruise overone eye, his arm was in a sling, and he limped. But he was in excellents
pirits.

  'I knew I was right, by Jove,' he observed to Grey. 'I knew he couldbuck up if he liked.'

  'I know it now,' said Barrett.

  'Who's this you're talking about?' said Grey.

  'Payne. I've never seen anything like the game he played today. He waseverywhere. And, by Jove, his _tackling_!'

  'Don't,' said Barrett, wearily.

  'It's the best match I ever played in,' said Walkinshaw, bubbling overwith enthusiasm. 'Do you know, the Second had all the best of thegame.'

  'What was the score?'

  'Draw. One try all.'

  'And now I suppose you're satisfied?' enquired Barrett. The greatscheme for the regeneration of Payne had been confided to him by itsproud patentee.

  'Almost,' said Walkinshaw. 'We'll continue the treatment for one moregame, and then we'll have him simply fizzing for the Windybury match.That's next Saturday. By the way, I'm afraid you'll hardly be fit againin time for that, Barrett, will you?'

  'I may possibly,' said Barrett, coldly, 'be getting about again in timefor the Windybury match of the year after next. This year I'm afraid Ishall not have the pleasure. And I should strongly advise you, if youdon't want to have to put a team of cripples into the field, todiscontinue the treatment, as you call it.'

  'Oh, I don't know,' said Walkinshaw.

  On the following Wednesday evening, at five o'clock, something wascarried in on a stretcher, and deposited in the bed which lay betweenGrey and Barrett. Close scrutiny revealed the fact that it was what hadonce been Charles Augustus Walkinshaw. He was slightly broken up.

  'Payne?' enquired Grey in chilly tones.

  Walkinshaw admitted the impeachment.

  Grey took a pencil and a piece of paper from the table at his side. 'Ifyou want to know what I'm doing,' he said, 'I'm writing out the teamfor the Windybury match, and I'm going to make Payne captain, as thesenior Second Fifteen man. And if we win I'm jolly well going to givehim his cap after the match. If we don't win, it'll be the fault of araving lunatic of the name of Walkinshaw, with his beastly Colney Hatchschemes for reforming slack forwards. You utter rotter!'

  Fortunately for the future peace of mind of C. A. Walkinshaw, thelatter contingency did not occur. The School, in spite of itsabsentees, contrived to pull the match off by a try to _nil_.Payne, as was only right and proper, scored the try, making his waythrough the ranks of the visiting team with the quiet persistence of asteam-roller. After the game he came to tea, by request, at theinfirmary, and was straightaway invested by Grey with his First Fifteencolours. On his arrival he surveyed the invalids with interest.

  'Rough game, footer,' he observed at length.

  'Don't mention it,' said Barrett politely. 'Leeches,' he addeddreamily. 'Leeches and hot fomentations. _Boiling_ fomentations.Will somebody kindly murder Walkinshaw!'

  'Why?' asked Payne, innocently.