"Listen to this on page one hundred and thirty-four of Alfred Tennyson's poems:
'Break, break, break,
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me!'
"It's a nice poem, isn't it?" said Darbishire. "You know, Jen, I think I've heard that poem somewhere before."
"I'm sure you have heard it," cried Jennings. "And I know when and where."
"That's right! Of course! It's Venables' poem."
"But it isn't! It's Tennyson's. It's in his book, and it means that it is his! You see what it means, Darbi? Venables never wrote this poem - he copied it from Alfred Tennyson! He tried to deceive us."
Jennings put the book back on the table and the boys hurried to the bus stop. The boys were very angry. Of course, they did not have to give a prize now, a prize, which they did not have. But it was very dishonest of Venables!
At the same time as Jennings and Darbishire were getting on the four-o'clock bus in the town of Dunhambury, Venables went into Mr Carter's room.
"Please, sir, I'm back from the village, sir."
"All right, Venables. And if you are going to the common room, will you put up this notice on the notice-board?"
"Certainly, sir."
Venables took the sheet of paper and looked to it. "There will be on inspection of all textbooks at 5 p.m. this afternoon," it said.
"Why this interest in textbooks?" thought Venables. "And what if Jennings doesn't come back in time? And what if he sold out valuable first editions and couldn't buy any newer editions?"
"Why are we having an inspection, sir?" asked Venables.
"There's a shortage of Latin text books and the Headmaster wants to know how many pupils have on Latin textbooks."
A shortage of Latin textbooks!
"Is it difficult to get them, sir?"
"Very difficult."
"I see. Thank you, sir," said Venables and went out of Mr Carter's room. Why did he give Jennings his Latin textbook? He did not want to get any prize now. All he wanted was to get back his Latin textbook.
In the common room he found Temple and Atkinson. They were looking at the Form Three Times.
"When will they print the next issue?" said Temple.
"There is a lot of work in printing a wall newspaper, don't forget," said Atkinson. "I expect Jennings is waiting for some more news."
Venables came up to the notice-board and put up the notice which Temple and Atkinson read without any interest.
Venables told them the story of the Latin textbooks.
"And he was going to sell them and buy cheaper editions, and now we'll have this inspection," he finished.
"Don't worry. You'll get your second edition when Jennings comes back," said Temple.
"But I shan't. Mr Carter says you can't buy them, and maybe Jennings has already sold the old books before he finds out that there are no newer books."
"But Darbishire told you not to sell your Latin book. It's no good giving you good advice, Venables. It goes in one ear and out of the other."
"Well, let this be a lesson to you, Venables," said Temple. "And your lesson will begin at 5 o'clock."
"And Jennings' lesson,' said Venables. "And I'll tell him something. Just wait till he comes back. Just wait!"
They waited for twenty minutes. Then the common room door opened and Jennings and Darbishire stood in the doorway.
"So there you are, Venables!" began Jennings. "I'm telling you, you are a liar."
"It's a good thing you've come back, Jen," said Venables. "Quick, have you got my Latin book?"
"Never mind Latin books! You are a thief!" Jennings waved a sheet of paper, which he had taken from the tuck-box room on his way to the common room. "You see this, Venables, with Break, Break, Break on it?"
"Yes, I do," answered Venables.
"Did you write this?"
"Of course I did," answered Venables. "I wrote it and sent it in for the competition."
"Well, you didn't write it. It was Alfred Tennyson," exclaimed Jennings.
Venables looked at Jennings in surprise.
"Do you think I don't know my own handwriting?"
There were already many boys in the common room, and Darbishire began to explain.
"Now, listen," he said. "We know it's Venables' handwriting, but we've found out that he didn't write the poem himself. He copied it out of Alfred Tennyson's book. Well, what do you say about that, Venables?"
"But I didn't send it in for the best poem competition," he said. "I sent it in for the best handwriting competition. The rules said you had to write twenty lines, so I copied this poem out of a book. I never said I wrote the poem myself."
Jennings opened his mouth. This, then was the explanation. What a fool he was!
'"Oh! Hm! Yes, I see... But how could we know which competition you meant? Why didn't you write it, well, on the other side of the page?"
"I couldn't do that. The rules said: 'Write on one side only,'" Venables explained. If you don't believe me, look at the envelope."
So all the boys went to the tuck-box room. In the waste-paper basket they found Venables' envelope with the words Handwriting Competition in the top left-hand corner.
"I'm sorry, Jen," said Darbishire. "I didn't see it."
"Yes, and when will you give him a prize? asked Temple. "You promised it before tea don't forget."
"The prize! Now we shall have to give him the prize, because his handwriting is really wonderful," thought Jennings. "But what?"
"Well, we were going to buy you a big cake with the money which we got for the Latin books, but..."
"Oh, I quite forgot about it!" exclaimed Venables. The book inspection could begin at any moment, and Jennings was talking about the money he had for his book. "You can keep your big cakes, I don't want them! All I want is my Latin book back."
"Do you want it more than anything else?" asked Jennings with a hope.
"Yes, it's the only thing that I want; but if you've sold it, well..."
Jennings smiled and said loudly, "We are now going to give the Form Three Times best handwriting prize to the happy winner."
"I don't want a prize. I want my Latin textbook back," said the happy winner.
"We are not going to give him a big cake. We are going to give the winner something which he will like ten times better."
With these words Jennings took two copies of Grimshaw's Latin Grammar from his pocket and gave one of them to the winner.
"So you didn't sell it," exclaimed the winner who was really very happy now.
Chapter Fourteen
Darbishire the photographer
The next Monday during hobbies' hour Jennings and Darbishire were talking about the next issue of their wall newspaper.
"I don't think we'11 have any competitions this time," Darbishire said. "Not many boys take part in them. And we can't continue to give boys their own things back as prizes, can we?"
Then they decided to write about the foot-ball game against Bracebridge School. It was an "away" game and the next Saturday the Second Linbury Court School football team had to go to Bracebridge by bus and train.
Jennings was a very good player and took part in every game. Darbishire was a very bad player and never took part in football games. So Jennings decided to ask Mr Carter to take Darbishire as the photographer.
"I'm not sure that Mr Carter will let you go as photographer," Jennings said to Darbishire. "We've never had a photographer with us before. So I'll ask Mr Carter to take you as a linesman. And when you are a linesman you'11 certainly have time to take one or two photos."
Mr Carter agreed to take Darbishire as linesman, and for the next four days Jennings showed his friend how to use the camera. He also explained to him what he must do as a linesman.
Mr Carter and Mr Wilkins took the team to Bracebridge School. They went to Dunhambury Station by bus, and there they took train. The team was very happy to go to Braceb
ridge School not only because the Bracebridge team was going to give them a good game, but also because they usually gave them a good tea after the game.
At two o'clock in the afternoon they arrived at Bracebridge School. The team went to a dormitory to change. The linesman had nothing to change and Darbishire was shown into an empty classroom to wait for his friends. He sat down in the back row and began to look around the classroom.
Soon the door opened and a lot of Brace-bridge boys in grey suits came in. They looked at Darbishire in surprise.
"I've been told to wait here," Darbishire explained to a round-faced boy with large ears, who came and sat on the desk near him. "I'm Linbury linesman and photographer."
"Oh! Then I advise you to get out of here before Old Fox comes."
"Who is Old Fox?"
"You'll soon find out if you stay here."
Darbishire decided to leave the classroom quickly. He took his camera and his flag and stood up.
"Sit down, that boy," he heard a voice and saw that a man with bushy eyebrows was sitting at the teacher's desk.
That was Old Fox! The teacher was looking at a book on his desk and did not see Darbishire. Darbishire decided to explain.
"Excuse me, sir..." he began.
"Don't talk, that boy!" The teacher was still looking at his book. "One more word from any boy, and you will all be back here this evening."
"But sir..."
"All right! You will all come back here after tea!"
Darbishire sat down and put up his hand. "Put that hand down!" said the teacher. He was still looking at his book, and did not see whose hand it was.
At that moment Darbishire heard a whistle from the football field. "The game has started," thought Darbishire. "And nobody has come to take me to the football field." Time passed and Darbishire knew that it was a detention class. He decided to ask the round-faced boy about it. But when he opened his mouth he heard: "Stop talking there in the back row!"
This time the teacher looked at Darbishire at last.
"I don't remember your face. May I ask you what you are doing here, boy?"
"Please, sir, I've come with the Linbury football team, and..."
"Too bad, too bad! Of course, it's very easy to get into my detention class, but it is very difficult to leave it. Are you sure you don't want to stay with us?"
"Yes, sir, I'm sure I don't want to stay here! Thank you, sir."
"All right, all right. And if you want to visit us we'll be very happy to see you any time you like. And now you may go."
Darbishire ran out of the classroom and hurried to the football field.
But it was too late. When Darbishire arrived the winning goal had already, been scored by Temple, and that was the only goal in the game.
It was a good, fast game, too fast for Darbishire to use the camera. Because when the ball was near his touchline he had no time to use the camera, and when the ball was on the other side of the field the players were far away.
Jennings found this out on the train going home and was very angry with his friend.
Darbishire tried not to look at Jennings. lie turned away and put his head out of the open window.
"There's notice for people like you over the door," said Atkinson. "Can't you read?"
Darbishire looked at the notice, "It is Dangerous for Passengers to Put their Heads out of the Window," he read.
"I didn't put my heads out," he said. "I've only got one head to put out. That notice is nonsense. They had to say - No passenger must put his own head out."
"Very good!" said Bromwich. "That means that we can put somebody else's head out. Whose head shall we put out?"
"Darbishire's, of course,- he is only the linesman," said Atkinson.
Jennings decided to help his friend.
"What they meant to say is: All passengers' must not put his, her or its head out, respectively."
"You can't put your head out respectively," said Temple.
"Stop talking nonsense," said Mr Carter. "The train is coming into Dunhambury Station. Don't leave anything in the carriage. Have you got your gloves, Jennings?"
"I think so, sir. One is in my pocket, and the other is somewhere here, sir."
"Where are your football boots, Venables?"
"In my bag, sir. I wrapped them in my clean towel because they were very muddy, sir."
"What?" asked Mr Carter in surprise.
But at that moment the train stopped and Venables had no time to answer Mr Carter's question.
Mr Carter and the boys got out of one carriage, and Mr Wilkins and the other boys got out of the next.
"The bus to Linbury is leaving any minute," Mr Carter said to Mr Wilkins. "I'll hurry and ask the driver to wait and you, please, look after the boys."
"Come along, boys, come along," said Mr Wilkins in a voice that every football player of the Linbury team could hear very well.
Chapter Fifteen
Jennings loses and finds his glove
Jennings and Darbishire hurried to the bus stop behind all the other boys. Suddenly Jennings stopped. He dropped his bag and put his hands into his raincoat pockets.
"What's the matter?" asked Darbishire.
"My glove! I've lost it! I think I've left it in the train."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I've got this glove in my pocket look, but I can't find the other one. Let's run back to the carriage and see if we can find it. We'll soon catch the others up, if we run."
The boys ran back to the carriage when Mr Wilkins with the other boys disappeared behind the station.
They could not find their carriage at once.
"It must be this one," said Darbishire, because it has that notice about passengers putting their heads out of the windows.
"They've all got these notices," said Jennings, "our carriage is much farther on."
At last they found their carriage. They lumped in and began to look for Jennings' glove. They found an old newspaper, a teacup, and a comb, but there was no sign of the glove.
"It must be somewhere here. Look!" said Jennings.
"I am looking, but I can't see your glove. Let's get off now. The train may start any minute."
And at that moment the train really started. Jennings and Darbishire ran to the carriage door. But it was too late. Jennings put his head out of the window and shouted for help.
"Nobody will hear you, Jen," said Darbishire. "And it's dangerous to put your head out: the notice says so."
Jennings came from the window and sat down.
"Don't worry, Darbi," he said. "We'll have to stay where we are. And when we arrive .it the next station we'll walk back."
"But how do we know the train is going lo stop at the next station? It may be an express."
"I'm sure it isn't an express," said Jennings. "Don't worry, Darbi. The trouble is that Mr Carter has got our tickets, so it will be difficult to leave the platform."
This time Darbishire really began to worry. Suddenly he looked at Jennings in surprise.
"I say, Jennings: there is your other glove look - on your hand!"
"No, it isn't. This is the glove I haven't lost."
"But it can't be. You said you had the other one in your pocket."
Jennings put his hand in his pocket and took out the other glove.
"Yes, you are right, Darbi. I was so busy when I was looking for the second glove* that I didn't see that I had it on all the time."
The train slowed down and the boys saw the station. Pottlewhistle Halt, they read.
"Let's get off quickly," said Darbishire.
It was a very small station. From the station an old porter came out and cried, "Pottlewhistle Halt."
But nobody else left the train. Jennings took Darbishire by the hand and the boys hid themselves behind large boxes that were standing on the platform. The porter did not see them, and as there was nobody else on the platform the porter went back into his room.
"He didn't see us," said Darbishire. "Let's go qu
ickly, or it'll soon be dark."
"It's a wonderful adventure!" said Jennings.
"I think it's a dangerous adventure. It's more dangerous than to put your head out of the window. It's your fault we are here. So you must lead the way back."
Darbishire was right. It was all very well for him to speak, but the trouble was Jennings did not know which way to go.
Pottlewhistle Halt stood far from the nearest village. There was no bus stop near the station. People did not often use it, and' only the slowest trains stopped there. A country path led up the hill, and through a little wood.
"Let's go along this path," said Jennings. "I'm sure it will lead us to the Linbury Road after some miles."
"After some miles! Don't forget that I was running along the touchline for two hours. I think we must ask somebody if it's the right way or not."
"How can we? There's nobody here to ask."
"Ask the old porter - he's at home."
"Don't be silly, Darbi. It's a good thing lie didn't see us and couldn't ask us about our tickets. It could be more dangerous to ask him than to put 'your head out of the window."
So the boys went along the path which led up the hill.
When the five-o'clock bus from Dunham-bury left the town Mr Carter turned to Mr Wilkins who was sitting behind him.
"It's a good thing I ran and stopped the bus. There is not another bus for two hours," he said. "You counted the boys, didn't you?"
"Well... No, I didn't," said Mr Wilkins. "We were in a hurry - I didn't have time. Don't worry. Carter; they are all here. I'll count them now, if it can make you happier."
It was very easy to count, because all the boys of Linbury Court School wore red-and white caps, and Mr Wilkins could see them all from where he sat - Venables and Aktinson were in the front row, Temple and Bromwich were behind them, then he saw Smith, Jones, Binns and Crosby, and in the back row were Armstrong and Wilson.
"That's strange! I can only see ten," said Mr Wilkins. "There must be one boy that I haven't counted."
"There must be two boys that you haven't counted," corrected Mr Carter. "Eleven in the team plus a linesman is... Linesman! Yes, of course, where are Jennings and Darbishire?"
Jennings and His Friends Page 5