One of the rules that governed the life of Donough O'Hara, thelight-hearted descendant of the O'Haras of Castle Taterfields, Co.
Clare, Ireland, was "Never refuse the offer of a free tea". So, onreceipt--per the Dexter's fag referred to--of Trevor's invitation, hescratched one engagement (with his mathematical master--not whollyunconnected with the working-out of Examples 200 to 206 in Hall andKnight's Algebra), postponed another (with his friend and ally Moriarty,of Dexter's, who wished to box with him in the gymnasium), and made hisway at a leisurely pace towards Donaldson's. He was feeling particularlypleased with himself today, for several reasons. He had begun the daywell by scoring brilliantly off Mr Dexter across the matutinal rasherand coffee. In morning school he had been put on to translate the onepassage which he happened to have prepared--the first ten lines, infact, of the hundred which formed the morning's lesson. And in thefinal hour of afternoon school, which was devoted to French, he haddiscovered and exploited with great success an entirely new and originalform of ragging. This, he felt, was the strenuous life; this was livingone's life as one's life should be lived.
He met Trevor at the gate. As they were going in, a carriage and pairdashed past. Its cargo consisted of two people, the headmaster, lookingbored, and a small, dapper man, with a very red face, who lookedexcited, and was talking volubly. Trevor and O'Hara raised their capsas the chariot swept by, but the salute passed unnoticed. The Headappeared to be wrapped in thought.
"What's the Old Man doing in a carriage, I wonder," said Trevor,looking after them. "Who's that with him?""That," said O'Hara, "is Sir Eustace Briggs.""Who's Sir Eustace Briggs?"O'Hara explained, in a rich brogue, that Sir Eustace was Mayor ofWrykyn, a keen politician, and a hater of the Irish nation, judging byhis letters and speeches.
They went into Trevor's study. Clowes was occupying the window in hisusual manner.
"Hullo, O'Hara," he said, "there is an air of quiet satisfaction aboutyou that seems to show that you've been ragging Dexter. Have you?""Oh, that was only this morning at breakfast. The best rag was inFrench," replied O'Hara, who then proceeded to explain in detail themethods he had employed to embitter the existence of the hapless Gallicexile with whom he had come in contact. It was that gentleman's customto sit on a certain desk while conducting the lesson. This desk chancedto be O'Hara's. On the principle that a man may do what he likes withhis own, he had entered the room privily in the dinner-hour, andremoved the screws from his desk, with the result that for the firsthalf-hour of the lesson the class had been occupied in excavating M.
Gandinois from the ruins. That gentleman's first act on regaining hisequilibrium had been to send O'Hara out of the room, and O'Hara, whohad foreseen this emergency, had spent a very pleasant half-hour in thepassage with some mixed chocolates and a copy of Mr Hornung's_Amateur Cracksman_. It was his notion of a cheerful and instructiveFrench lesson.
"What were you talking about when you came in?" asked Clowes. "Who'sbeen slanging Ireland, O'Hara?""The man Briggs.""What are you going to do about it? Aren't you going to take anysteps?""Is it steps?" said O'Hara, warmly, "and haven't we----"He stopped.
"Well?""Ye know," he said, seriously, "ye mustn't let it go any further. Ishall get sacked if it's found out. An' so will Moriarty, too.""Why?" asked Trevor, looking up from the tea-pot he was filling, "whaton earth have you been doing?""Wouldn't it be rather a cheery idea," suggested Clowes, "if you beganat the beginning.""Well, ye see," O'Hara began, "it was this way. The first I heard of itwas from Dexter. He was trying to score off me as usual, an' he said,'Have ye seen the paper this morning, O'Hara?' I said, no, I had not.
Then he said, 'Ah,' he said, 'ye should look at it. There's somethingthere that ye'll find interesting.' I said, 'Yes, sir?' in merespectful way. 'Yes,' said he, 'the Irish members have been makingtheir customary disturbances in the House. Why is it, O'Hara,' he said,'that Irishmen are always thrusting themselves forward and makingdisturbances for purposes of self-advertisement?' 'Why, indeed, sir?'
said I, not knowing what else to say, and after that the conversationceased.""Go on," said Clowes.
"After breakfast Moriarty came to me with a paper, and showed me whatthey had been saying about the Irish. There was a letter from the manBriggs on the subject. 'A very sensible and temperate letter from SirEustace Briggs', they called it, but bedad! if that was a temperateletter, I should like to know what an intemperate one is. Well, we readit through, and Moriarty said to me, 'Can we let this stay as it is?'
And I said, 'No. We can't.' 'Well,' said Moriarty to me, 'what are weto do about it? I should like to tar and feather the man,' he said. 'Wecan't do that,' I said, 'but why not tar and feather his statue?' Isaid. So we thought we would. Ye know where the statue is, I suppose?
It's in the recreation ground just across the river.""I know the place," said Clowes. "Go on. This is ripping. I always knewyou were pretty mad, but this sounds as if it were going to beat allprevious records.""Have ye seen the baths this term," continued O'Hara, "since theyshifted Dexter's house into them? The beds are in two long rows alongeach wall. Moriarty's and mine are the last two at the end farthestfrom the door.""Just under the gallery," said Trevor. "I see.""That's it. Well, at half-past ten sharp every night Dexter sees thatwe're all in, locks the door, and goes off to sleep at the Old Man's,and we don't see him again till breakfast. He turns the gas off fromoutside. At half-past seven the next morning, Smith"--Smith was one ofthe school porters--"unlocks the door and calls us, and we go over tothe Hall to breakfast.""Well?""Well, directly everybody was asleep last night--it wasn't till afterone, as there was a rag on--Moriarty and I got up, dressed, and climbedup into the gallery. Ye know the gallery windows? They open at the top,an' it's rather hard to get out of them. But we managed it, and droppedon to the gravel outside.""Long drop," said Clowes.
"Yes. I hurt myself rather. But it was in a good cause. I droppedfirst, and while I was on the ground, Moriarty came on top of me.
That's how I got hurt. But it wasn't much, and we cut across thegrounds, and over the fence, and down to the river. It was a finenight, and not very dark, and everything smelt ripping down by theriver.""Don't get poetical," said Clowes. "Stick to the point.""We got into the boat-house--""How?" asked the practical Trevor, for the boat-house was wont to belocked at one in the morning. "Moriarty had a key that fitted,"explained O'Hara, briefly. "We got in, and launched a boat--a bigtub--put in the tar and a couple of brushes--there's always tar inthe boat-house--and rowed across.""Wait a bit," interrupted Trevor, "you said tar and feathers. Where didyou get the feathers?""We used leaves. They do just as well, and there were heaps on thebank. Well, when we landed, we tied up the boat, and bucked across tothe Recreation Ground. We got over the railings--beastly, spikyrailings--and went over to the statue. Ye know where the statue stands?
It's right in the middle of the place, where everybody can see it.
Moriarty got up first, and I handed him the tar and a brush. Then Iwent up with the other brush, and we began. We did his face first. Itwas too dark to see really well, but I think we made a good job of it.
When we had put about as much tar on as we thought would do, we tookout the leaves--which we were carrying in our pockets--and spread themon. Then we did the rest of him, and after about half an hour, when wethought we'd done about enough, we got into our boat again, and cameback.""And what did you do till half-past seven?""We couldn't get back the way we'd come, so we slept in the boat-house.""Well--I'm--hanged," was Trevor's comment on the story.
Clowes roared with laughter. O'Hara was a perpetual joy to him.
As O'Hara was going, Trevor asked him for his gold bat.
"You haven't lost it, I hope?" he said.
O'Hara felt in his pocket, but brought his hand out at once andtransferred it to another pocket. A look of anxiety came over his face,and was reflected in Trevor's.
"I could have sworn it was in that pocket," he said.
"You _haven't_ lost it?" queried Trevor again.
"He has," said Clowes, confidently. "If you want to know where that batis, I should say you'd find it somewhere between the baths and thestatue. At the foot of the statue, for choice. It seems to me--correctme if I am wrong--that you have been and gone and done it, me broth ava bhoy."O'Hara gave up the search.
"It's gone," he said. "Man, I'm most awfully sorry. I'd sooner havelost a ten-pound note.""I don't see why you should lose either," snapped Trevor. "Why theblazes can't you be more careful."O'Hara was too penitent for words. Clowes took it on himself to pointout the bright side.
"There's nothing to get sick about, really," he said. "If the thingdoesn't turn up, though it probably will, you'll simply have to tellthe Old Man that it's lost. He'll have another made. You won't be askedfor it till just before Sports Day either, so you will have plenty oftime to find it."The challenge cups, and also the bats, had to be given to theauthorities before the sports, to be formally presented on Sports Day.
"Oh, I suppose it'll be all right," said Trevor, "but I hope it won'tbe found anywhere near the statue."O'Hara said he hoped so too.