Chapter XI

by William Somerset Maugham

　　Next morning when the clanging of a bell awoke Philip he looked round hiscubicle in astonishment. Then a voice sang out, and he remembered where hewas."Are you awake, Singer?"The partitions of the cubicle were of polished pitch-pine, and there wasa green curtain in front. In those days there was little thought ofventilation, and the windows were closed except when the dormitory wasaired in the morning.Philip got up and knelt down to say his prayers. It was a cold morning,and he shivered a little; but he had been taught by his uncle that hisprayers were more acceptable to God if he said them in his nightshirt thanif he waited till he was dressed. This did not surprise him, for he wasbeginning to realise that he was the creature of a God who appreciated thediscomfort of his worshippers. Then he washed. There were two baths forthe fifty boarders, and each boy had a bath once a week. The rest of hiswashing was done in a small basin on a wash-stand, which with the bed anda chair, made up the furniture of each cubicle. The boys chatted gailywhile they dressed. Philip was all ears. Then another bell sounded, andthey ran downstairs. They took their seats on the forms on each side ofthe two long tables in the school-room; and Mr. Watson, followed by hiswife and the servants, came in and sat down. Mr. Watson read prayers in animpressive manner, and the supplications thundered out in his loud voiceas though they were threats personally addressed to each boy. Philiplistened with anxiety. Then Mr. Watson read a chapter from the Bible, andthe servants trooped out. In a moment the untidy youth brought in twolarge pots of tea and on a second journey immense dishes of bread andbutter.Philip had a squeamish appetite, and the thick slabs of poor butter on thebread turned his stomach, but he saw other boys scraping it off andfollowed their example. They all had potted meats and such like, whichthey had brought in their play-boxes; and some had 'extras,' eggs orbacon, upon which Mr. Watson made a profit. When he had asked Mr. Careywhether Philip was to have these, Mr. Carey replied that he did not thinkboys should be spoilt. Mr. Watson quite agreed with him--he considerednothing was better than bread and butter for growing lads--but someparents, unduly pampering their offspring, insisted on it.Philip noticed that 'extras' gave boys a certain consideration and made uphis mind, when he wrote to Aunt Louisa, to ask for them.After breakfast the boys wandered out into the play-ground. Here theday-boys were gradually assembling. They were sons of the local clergy, ofthe officers at the Depot, and of such manufacturers or men of business asthe old town possessed. Presently a bell rang, and they all trooped intoschool. This consisted of a large, long room at opposite ends of which twounder-masters conducted the second and third forms, and of a smaller one,leading out of it, used by Mr. Watson, who taught the first form. Toattach the preparatory to the senior school these three classes were knownofficially, on speech days and in reports, as upper, middle, and lowersecond. Philip was put in the last. The master, a red-faced man with apleasant voice, was called Rice; he had a jolly manner with boys, and thetime passed quickly. Philip was surprised when it was a quarter to elevenand they were let out for ten minutes' rest.The whole school rushed noisily into the play-ground. The new boys weretold to go into the middle, while the others stationed themselves alongopposite walls. They began to play Pig in the Middle. The old boys ranfrom wall to wall while the new boys tried to catch them: when one wasseized and the mystic words said--one, two, three, and a pig for me--hebecame a prisoner and, turning sides, helped to catch those who were stillfree. Philip saw a boy running past and tried to catch him, but his limpgave him no chance; and the runners, taking their opportunity, madestraight for the ground he covered. Then one of them had the brilliantidea of imitating Philip's clumsy run. Other boys saw it and began tolaugh; then they all copied the first; and they ran round Philip, limpinggrotesquely, screaming in their treble voices with shrill laughter. Theylost their heads with the delight of their new amusement, and choked withhelpless merriment. One of them tripped Philip up and he fell, heavily ashe always fell, and cut his knee. They laughed all the louder when he gotup. A boy pushed him from behind, and he would have fallen again ifanother had not caught him. The game was forgotten in the entertainment ofPhilip's deformity. One of them invented an odd, rolling limp that struckthe rest as supremely ridiculous, and several of the boys lay down on theground and rolled about in laughter: Philip was completely scared. Hecould not make out why they were laughing at him. His heart beat so thathe could hardly breathe, and he was more frightened than he had ever beenin his life. He stood still stupidly while the boys ran round him,mimicking and laughing; they shouted to him to try and catch them; but hedid not move. He did not want them to see him run any more. He was usingall his strength to prevent himself from crying.Suddenly the bell rang, and they all trooped back to school. Philip's kneewas bleeding, and he was dusty and dishevelled. For some minutes Mr. Ricecould not control his form. They were excited still by the strangenovelty, and Philip saw one or two of them furtively looking down at hisfeet. He tucked them under the bench.In the afternoon they went up to play football, but Mr. Watson stoppedPhilip on the way out after dinner."I suppose you can't play football, Carey?" he asked him.Philip blushed self-consciously."No, sir.""Very well. You'd better go up to the field. You can walk as far as that,can't you? "Philip had no idea where the field was, but he answered all the same."Yes, sir."The boys went in charge of Mr. Rice, who glanced at Philip and seeing hehad not changed, asked why he was not going to play."Mr. Watson said I needn't, sir," said Philip."Why?"There were boys all round him, looking at him curiously, and a feeling ofshame came over Philip. He looked down without answering. Others gave thereply."He's got a club-foot, sir.""Oh, I see."Mr. Rice was quite young; he had only taken his degree a year before; andhe was suddenly embarrassed. His instinct was to beg the boy's pardon, buthe was too shy to do so. He made his voice gruff and loud."Now then, you boys, what are you waiting about for? Get on with you."Some of them had already started and those that were left now set off, ingroups of two or three."You'd better come along with me, Carey," said the master "You don't knowthe way, do you?"Philip guessed the kindness, and a sob came to his throat."I can't go very fast, sir.""Then I'll go very slow," said the master, with a smile.Philip's heart went out to the red-faced, commonplace young man who saida gentle word to him. He suddenly felt less unhappy.But at night when they went up to bed and were undressing, the boy who wascalled Singer came out of his cubicle and put his head in Philip's."I say, let's look at your foot," he said."No," answered Philip.He jumped into bed quickly."Don't say no to me," said Singer. "Come on, Mason."The boy in the next cubicle was looking round the corner, and at the wordshe slipped in. They made for Philip and tried to tear the bed-clothes offhim, but he held them tightly."Why can't you leave me alone?" he cried.Singer seized a brush and with the back of it beat Philip's hands clenchedon the blanket. Philip cried out."Why don't you show us your foot quietly?""I won't."In desperation Philip clenched his fist and hit the boy who tormented him,but he was at a disadvantage, and the boy seized his arm. He began to turnit."Oh, don't, don't," said Philip. "You'll break my arm.""Stop still then and put out your foot."Philip gave a sob and a gasp. The boy gave the arm another wrench. Thepain was unendurable."All right. I'll do it," said Philip.He put out his foot. Singer still kept his hand on Philip's wrist. Helooked curiously at the deformity."Isn't it beastly?" said Mason.Another came in and looked too."Ugh," he said, in disgust."My word, it is rum," said Singer, making a face. "Is it hard?"He touched it with the tip of his forefinger, cautiously, as though itwere something that had a life of its own. Suddenly they heard Mr.Watson's heavy tread on the stairs. They threw the clothes back on Philipand dashed like rabbits into their cubicles. Mr. Watson came into thedormitory. Raising himself on tiptoe he could see over the rod that borethe green curtain, and he looked into two or three of the cubicles. Thelittle boys were safely in bed. He put out the light and went out.Singer called out to Philip, but he did not answer. He had got his teethin the pillow so that his sobbing should be inaudible. He was not cryingfor the pain they had caused him, nor for the humiliation he had sufferedwhen they looked at his foot, but with rage at himself because, unable tostand the torture, he had put out his foot of his own accord.And then he felt the misery of his life. It seemed to his childish mindthat this unhappiness must go on for ever. For no particular reason heremembered that cold morning when Emma had taken him out of bed and puthim beside his mother. He had not thought of it once since it happened,but now he seemed to feel the warmth of his mother's body against his andher arms around him. Suddenly it seemed to him that his life was a dream,his mother's death, and the life at the vicarage, and these two wretcheddays at school, and he would awake in the morning and be back again athome. His tears dried as he thought of it. He was too unhappy, it must benothing but a dream, and his mother was alive, and Emma would come uppresently and go to bed. He fell asleep.But when he awoke next morning it was to the clanging of a bell, and thefirst thing his eyes saw was the green curtain of his cubicle.