Wilberforce Read Online Free Page B
Author: H. S. Cross
bristled:
âRefusing confirmation and resigning are entirely different matters.
âWhat makes you think the Head at Pocklington will be any less tyrannical?
âNothing, the Eagle replied, but it will be a novel tyranny. And Iâll have a House.
John felt desperate:
âWith you and Burton gone, whoâll help me stop the Third turning into ⦠something that will make Bradley and Co. look like choirboys?
The Eagle sighed and then went to the bar for another round. He returned with a second mug of tea for John.
âGrieves, he said, you canât blame yourself for Bradley.
âI donât.
âIf Bradley really did all that to Wilberforce, it wasnât your fault, no matter how incandescent you were about the skull business.
âI know it wasnât my fault.
âYou donât know it. And you donât know that Wilberforce was behind the skull. Take some advice for once and let the grudge go.
âGrudge? John balked. Grudge against whom?
âAgainst Wilberforce, against Bradley, against yourself.
âYouâre a fine one to talk. Youâre boltingâ
âPossibly, the Eagle said. But the point youâre missing is Wilberforce.
âWhat about him?
âThat tackle today was pointless and destructive. Heâs going off the rails, and youâre the only person he respects.
âMe? Wilberforce doesnât respectâ
âOf course itâs possible Iâm imagining the whole thing, the Eagle concluded. In which case thereâs nothing to worry about.
Johnâs mouth soured. He set his tea aside.
âDo yourself a favor, the Eagle counseled. Cast a glance across Positions Vacant. Youâre young, clever, healthy, and decent. You could have a future of your own if you werenât so afraid of it.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The Eagleâs remarks re Morgan Wilberforce were almost as disturbing as his news of impending defections from the SCR. He had foisted his Wilberforce theory on John without a sliver of evidence, but once John had regained the quiet of his little rooms, he was able to see that the Eagleâs claims were ludicrous. Wilberforce was as slothful and indifferent in Johnâs lessons as in any other. They had no outside rapport since the Gallowhill business, and if the Eagle thought they did, it was only because his myopia (literal and figurative) caused him to conflate the years. The span between 1923 and 1926 might not seem to the Eagle the enormous era it was to boys growing into whiskers, but it was nevertheless a long time. It was long enough for boys to change unrecognizably, to stretch many inches, to come out in spots, to outgrow several pairs of trousers, to lose their voices and then regain them octaves lower, and to acquire the general narcolepsy of late adolescence. In short, the years between St. Stephenâs Third and Fifth Forms were more revolutionary to the person than the Bolsheviks had been to Russia (stretching it perhaps, but never mind!); thus there was no reason for the Eagle to imagine that Morgan Wilberforce retained even a memory of whatever respect he once had for John, which was in any case questionable!
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4
Matron released him from the Tower Sunday evening after immobilizing his left arm in bandages and a sling. It was possible, she said, that heâd damaged more than his shoulder, but as the holidays would begin in less than a fortnight, he could wait and see his fatherâs physician in Harley Street rather than inconvenience the surgeon. Morgan had little time for the medical profession, which tended to disagree in its opinions and restrict him in his activities. Indeed, Matron repeated her injunction against all Games, especially rugby, but she declared that nothing should prevent him completing his prep that night or any other. Morgan left the ward more vexed than heâd ever before felt upon escaping captivity.
He emerged from the Tower into the empty
âRefusing confirmation and resigning are entirely different matters.
âWhat makes you think the Head at Pocklington will be any less tyrannical?
âNothing, the Eagle replied, but it will be a novel tyranny. And Iâll have a House.
John felt desperate:
âWith you and Burton gone, whoâll help me stop the Third turning into ⦠something that will make Bradley and Co. look like choirboys?
The Eagle sighed and then went to the bar for another round. He returned with a second mug of tea for John.
âGrieves, he said, you canât blame yourself for Bradley.
âI donât.
âIf Bradley really did all that to Wilberforce, it wasnât your fault, no matter how incandescent you were about the skull business.
âI know it wasnât my fault.
âYou donât know it. And you donât know that Wilberforce was behind the skull. Take some advice for once and let the grudge go.
âGrudge? John balked. Grudge against whom?
âAgainst Wilberforce, against Bradley, against yourself.
âYouâre a fine one to talk. Youâre boltingâ
âPossibly, the Eagle said. But the point youâre missing is Wilberforce.
âWhat about him?
âThat tackle today was pointless and destructive. Heâs going off the rails, and youâre the only person he respects.
âMe? Wilberforce doesnât respectâ
âOf course itâs possible Iâm imagining the whole thing, the Eagle concluded. In which case thereâs nothing to worry about.
Johnâs mouth soured. He set his tea aside.
âDo yourself a favor, the Eagle counseled. Cast a glance across Positions Vacant. Youâre young, clever, healthy, and decent. You could have a future of your own if you werenât so afraid of it.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The Eagleâs remarks re Morgan Wilberforce were almost as disturbing as his news of impending defections from the SCR. He had foisted his Wilberforce theory on John without a sliver of evidence, but once John had regained the quiet of his little rooms, he was able to see that the Eagleâs claims were ludicrous. Wilberforce was as slothful and indifferent in Johnâs lessons as in any other. They had no outside rapport since the Gallowhill business, and if the Eagle thought they did, it was only because his myopia (literal and figurative) caused him to conflate the years. The span between 1923 and 1926 might not seem to the Eagle the enormous era it was to boys growing into whiskers, but it was nevertheless a long time. It was long enough for boys to change unrecognizably, to stretch many inches, to come out in spots, to outgrow several pairs of trousers, to lose their voices and then regain them octaves lower, and to acquire the general narcolepsy of late adolescence. In short, the years between St. Stephenâs Third and Fifth Forms were more revolutionary to the person than the Bolsheviks had been to Russia (stretching it perhaps, but never mind!); thus there was no reason for the Eagle to imagine that Morgan Wilberforce retained even a memory of whatever respect he once had for John, which was in any case questionable!
Â
4
Matron released him from the Tower Sunday evening after immobilizing his left arm in bandages and a sling. It was possible, she said, that heâd damaged more than his shoulder, but as the holidays would begin in less than a fortnight, he could wait and see his fatherâs physician in Harley Street rather than inconvenience the surgeon. Morgan had little time for the medical profession, which tended to disagree in its opinions and restrict him in his activities. Indeed, Matron repeated her injunction against all Games, especially rugby, but she declared that nothing should prevent him completing his prep that night or any other. Morgan left the ward more vexed than heâd ever before felt upon escaping captivity.
He emerged from the Tower into the empty
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