William George Bunter gazed anxiously at the clock in the Remove form-room for what must have been the 20th time in as many minutes.
'Bunter!' Rapped his former master, Mr. Quelch, 'you have not been paying attention.'
'Oh – why – yes sir, I have, sir,' replied Bunter, almost startled out of his wits.
'I – I heard every word you were saying.'
'In that case, Bunter,' said Quelch she had dryly, 'you will continue to translate the next passage.'
Bunter blinked hopelessly at the Latin before him. Not only did he not know where that beast Quelch had reached the morning, but as usual he had not bothered with his prep the previous evening anyway.
'I'm afraid I've lost my place sir,' he uttered.
'You will continue from 'Aeneas volvers hae res in noctum,', barked his former master.
'Construe,' yelled Quelch.
Bunter gazed at the text, completely baffled. No doubt it meant something but what it meant was a puzzle to the fat and fatuous owl of the Remove.
' I am waiting, Bunter,' growled Quelch with a growl that resembled that of a bear.
Suddenly, inspiration dawned on the fat duffer.
'Aeneas rolled over during the night,' he gasped triumphantly.
There was a startled silence in the class, then a howl of laughter from Bunters classmates.
'Silence! This is not a cause of merriment.'
Quelch's pupils evidently disagreed with him on this point!
'Bunter, I do not know whether you are being deliberately impertinent or whether you are incredibly obtuse. In all my years as a schoolmaster I have never witnessed a more stupid performance.'
'Is - isn't it right, sir?' asked Bunter timidly.
'No, Bunter, it is not right and you will therefore spend the morning break writing out 100 times, 'Aeneas reflecting on these things during the night'.'
Bunter groaned inwardly. He had been waiting for the lesson to end so he could rush down to the letter rack to see if his celebrated postal order had finally arrived. It was a joke in the Remove, Bunter's celebrated postal order that never seemed to actually materialise. However, Bunter felt he was right to be optimistic in this case, as his stockbroker father had had a recent windfall due to his dealings in the Stock Market as a 'bull' or was it a 'bear?' Anyway, the pater had dropped several hints that some of this largesse might come Bunter's way and Bunter in his turn had dropped some hints in his last letter home regarding his 'stony' state.
Now that beast Quelch had scuppered his chances of retrieving any letter during break by giving him this wretched imposition. How was he to get his hands on that cherished postal order? Suddenly he had an idea.
'I say, Bob old chap,' he called out to Bob Cherry as the Remove filed out of the form-room for break.
'Sorry, old fat bean, I'm broke,' Bob replied.
'Eh, wanner you mean? Do you think I want to borrow money from you?' yapped Bunter.
'Well, why did you c all me 'Bob, old chap' then?'
'You silly ass – I – I mean, look here, Cherry, we've always been pals, haven't we?'
'Not that I can ever recall.'
'Hee – hee – hee. You will have your little joke. Now look here, will you be a pal and see if I've got a letter today from the pater? I'm expecting a postal order.'
'Oh my hat, you've been expecting a postal order ever since I first came to Greyfriars. I shouldn't get your hopes up, old fat man. We'll both be drawing our pensions long before your postal order ever comes.
'Beast! I mean, look here old fellow, the pater's just come into some money and he more or less promised me some. You could grab the letter in break and chuck it in to me through the window. I'd go myself but I've got to copy out this beastly rubbish for Quelch.'
How could Bob refuse, though he was certain there would be no letter and no postal order for the fat owl.
'Ok, I'll go and I'll chuck it to you while Quelch's back is turned. Mind you, it might take me some time to bring it to you,'
'Why's that?'
'Well, if your postal order really has come, I'll probably need smelling salts to revive me.'
'Beast!'
Two minutes later Bob, greatly daring Quelch's gimlet eye, managed to throw the envelope at Bunter's feet without the Remove master seeing.
Bunter watched Quelch carefully but the master was busy marking form papers and didn't look up. The fat Removite picked up the letter and quickly tore open the envelope and to his utter joy saw therein a postal order for £10! He glanced briefly at the parental letter but of course had no time to study its contents under the circumstances. It would only be the usual 'jaw' from the pater anyway.
It took Bunter the whole break to copy out his failed translation so he had to wait until lunch break before he could dash to Mrs Mimble's tuck shop. For once he didn't just gaze at the delights in the window, he was in ample funds and could afford to blow the whole £10 on foodstuffs. Which he did.
So after treating himself and, it must be admitted, any other Removites who came into the tuck shop, it was a happy and sticky Bunter who made his way homeward.
In the comfort of no. 7 study, sprawling in the armchair, Bunter decided he ought to read the pater's letter. He therefore pulled it out of his pocket and began to read the contents of the screwed up missive. Presently his countenance changed from one of happy contentment to one of abject misery.
After the usual lecture about William's poor spelling and grammar in his letters home and Mr Quelch's very poor reports on his general progress in class, particularly in Latin, the Roman parent went on to state that Billy's younger brother Sammy had mentioned that Bertram Mills' circus was coming to Courtfield and he had expressed a wish to see it. Bunter senior was therefore enclosing a £10 postal order for Billy to take Sammy and sister Bessie at Cliff House School to the circus. The £10 was to cover bus and a modest tea afterwards.
Bunter groaned. When the pater found out that his eldest son William had instead blown the whole tenner on a slap up meal for just himself, the parental wrath would be unprecedented. Sammy and Bessie would at some time be questioned about the circus and Billy would be called to account at the very least, it would mean no more postal orders or treats of any kind for whole terms.
On the other hand Bunter had had a feast which hitherto he could only have dreamt of. Perhaps as things turned out it had been worth it, even if it was never to be repeated.