for no further, or at any rate no outspoken comment.

Given sixpence a week and no more, Farnie might have survived an entire
term without breaking any serious School rule. But when, after buying a
bicycle from Smith of Markham's, he found himself with eight pounds to
his name in solid cash, and the means of getting far enough away from
the neighbourhood of the School to be able to spend it much as he
liked, he began to do strange and risky things in his spare time.

The great obstacle to illicit enjoyment at Beckford was the four
o'clock roll-call on half-holidays. There were other obstacles, such as
half-holiday games and so forth, but these could be avoided by the
exercise of a little judgement. The penalty for non-appearance at a
half-holiday game was a fine of sixpence. Constant absence was likely
in time to lead to a more or less thrilling interview with the captain
of cricket, but a very occasional attendance was enough to stave off
this disaster; and as for the sixpence, to a man of means like Farnie
it was a mere nothing. It was a bad system, and it was a wonder, under
the circumstances, how Beckford produced the elevens it did. But it was
the system, and Farnie availed himself of it to the full.

The obstacle of roll-call he managed also to surmount. Some reckless
and penniless friend was generally willing, for a consideration, to
answer his name for him. And so most Saturday afternoons would find
Farnie leaving behind him the flannelled fools at their various
wickets, and speeding out into the country on his bicycle in the
direction of the village of Biddlehampton, where mine host of the 'Cow
and Cornflower', in addition to other refreshment for man and beast,
advertised that ping-pong and billiards might be played on the
premises. It was not the former of these games that attracted Farnie.