Leopold’s. Albert said he wasn’t going to cut his finger, ’cause
he was afraid of bleedin’ to death, an’ then he wouldn’t be able to support his poor ole mother when he was a man. He’d got some red paint at home and he was going to fetch
that. He wouldn’t take a minute. He repeated that he wouldn’t mind cuttin’ off his head if it wasn’t for his poor ole mother. Leopold’s airs were becoming
insufferable. He ejaculated, ‘Ho, yuss!’ at intervals during Albert’s speech, but the rest of the society seem to be agreed to ignore him for the present. Sam, with an exaggerated
expression of agony, manfully endured, had been coaxing a two days’ old scratch, and had just completed his signature when Albert returned with the red paint.
When the document was complete, William folded it up and put it in his pocket.
‘Now,’ he said, assuming a businesslike attitude, ‘we’ve gotter think of a secret password.’
Leopold darkly suggested ‘ ’ell’, but it was felt that, though sinister, it was too indefinite. Albert, after deep thought, brought forward the proposal: ‘Hengland
hex-pects’. This was felt to be, on the whole, too lofty, and finally Sam’s suggestion of ‘Down wiv tyrants!’ was accepted.
William (proposed and seconded by himself) was elected President, and the others (also on his proposal and seconding) were elected secretaries.
A whistle of penetrating and inharmonious tone was originated by William as a secret sign of danger, at which the whole society was to rally. Further, a member of the society, on meeting another
member, was to cross the thumb and first finger and to utter darkly the words ‘Outlaw – Brother!’ Finally, each member raised his right hand, uttered slowly and solemnly the fatal words
‘Down wiv tyrants – till death!’ and the meeting dispersed.
Mr French became thoughtful. The morning after he kept William in he found (with painful consequences) a hornet in his boot. The evening after he had showered on William his
choicest sarcasms he found the back tyre of his bicycle punctured. After another conflict with William, he found various indispensable things missing from his bag when he arrived at school, though
he could have sworn he had put them in. He found them later in the greenhouse.
On another occasion he found that a little soot had been put in his hat and had reposed on his head as he paid a call and (all unconscious of his appearance) had tried to charm his
headmaster’s daughter. It was incredible, but— He pondered deeply over the matter and always came to the same conclusion. It was incredible, but— He tried ignoring William, and
the curious, inexplicable annoyances ceased. It was certainly incredible, but— He left it at that.
The aims of the society widened. When Mr Beal, the squire of the villlage, chased William in person out of his orchard, with the help of dogs, sticks, and stones, he found the next morning in
his orchard, in full view of the road, a scarecrow bearing a curious resemblance to himself and wearing a suit of his old clothes . . .
When the Rev. Cuthbert Pugh called William ‘a nasty, dirty little boy, and, I am sure, a great trial to his dear mother’, he discovered, the next morning, horrid little gargoyle-like
faces outlined in white paint on all his trees – most unpleasant – and conspicuous – and unclerical.
It was altogether a successful secret society. It achieved its aims. It gave William back his self-respect, which Mr French had considerably impaired. The secretaries, Sam, Albert and Leopold,
seemed to take delight in avenging the insults heaped by an unsympathetic world on their President. It was pure joy to William to meet any of them in the streets or lanes, cross his finger and
thumb and utter darkly the words ‘Outlaw – Brother!’
So far all was well . . .
Then Ginger, Henry and Douglas, recovered from chicken-pox, came back to school. The peaceful and inoffensive Mr
he was afraid of bleedin’ to death, an’ then he wouldn’t be able to support his poor ole mother when he was a man. He’d got some red paint at home and he was going to fetch
that. He wouldn’t take a minute. He repeated that he wouldn’t mind cuttin’ off his head if it wasn’t for his poor ole mother. Leopold’s airs were becoming
insufferable. He ejaculated, ‘Ho, yuss!’ at intervals during Albert’s speech, but the rest of the society seem to be agreed to ignore him for the present. Sam, with an exaggerated
expression of agony, manfully endured, had been coaxing a two days’ old scratch, and had just completed his signature when Albert returned with the red paint.
When the document was complete, William folded it up and put it in his pocket.
‘Now,’ he said, assuming a businesslike attitude, ‘we’ve gotter think of a secret password.’
Leopold darkly suggested ‘ ’ell’, but it was felt that, though sinister, it was too indefinite. Albert, after deep thought, brought forward the proposal: ‘Hengland
hex-pects’. This was felt to be, on the whole, too lofty, and finally Sam’s suggestion of ‘Down wiv tyrants!’ was accepted.
William (proposed and seconded by himself) was elected President, and the others (also on his proposal and seconding) were elected secretaries.
A whistle of penetrating and inharmonious tone was originated by William as a secret sign of danger, at which the whole society was to rally. Further, a member of the society, on meeting another
member, was to cross the thumb and first finger and to utter darkly the words ‘Outlaw – Brother!’ Finally, each member raised his right hand, uttered slowly and solemnly the fatal words
‘Down wiv tyrants – till death!’ and the meeting dispersed.
Mr French became thoughtful. The morning after he kept William in he found (with painful consequences) a hornet in his boot. The evening after he had showered on William his
choicest sarcasms he found the back tyre of his bicycle punctured. After another conflict with William, he found various indispensable things missing from his bag when he arrived at school, though
he could have sworn he had put them in. He found them later in the greenhouse.
On another occasion he found that a little soot had been put in his hat and had reposed on his head as he paid a call and (all unconscious of his appearance) had tried to charm his
headmaster’s daughter. It was incredible, but— He pondered deeply over the matter and always came to the same conclusion. It was incredible, but— He tried ignoring William, and
the curious, inexplicable annoyances ceased. It was certainly incredible, but— He left it at that.
The aims of the society widened. When Mr Beal, the squire of the villlage, chased William in person out of his orchard, with the help of dogs, sticks, and stones, he found the next morning in
his orchard, in full view of the road, a scarecrow bearing a curious resemblance to himself and wearing a suit of his old clothes . . .
When the Rev. Cuthbert Pugh called William ‘a nasty, dirty little boy, and, I am sure, a great trial to his dear mother’, he discovered, the next morning, horrid little gargoyle-like
faces outlined in white paint on all his trees – most unpleasant – and conspicuous – and unclerical.
It was altogether a successful secret society. It achieved its aims. It gave William back his self-respect, which Mr French had considerably impaired. The secretaries, Sam, Albert and Leopold,
seemed to take delight in avenging the insults heaped by an unsympathetic world on their President. It was pure joy to William to meet any of them in the streets or lanes, cross his finger and
thumb and utter darkly the words ‘Outlaw – Brother!’
So far all was well . . .
Then Ginger, Henry and Douglas, recovered from chicken-pox, came back to school. The peaceful and inoffensive Mr
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