Chapter XII

by William Somerset Maugham

　　As time went on Philip's deformity ceased to interest. It was acceptedlike one boy's red hair and another's unreasonable corpulence. Butmeanwhile he had grown horribly sensitive. He never ran if he could helpit, because he knew it made his limp more conspicuous, and he adopted apeculiar walk. He stood still as much as he could, with his club-footbehind the other, so that it should not attract notice, and he wasconstantly on the look out for any reference to it. Because he could notjoin in the games which other boys played, their life remained strange tohim; he only interested himself from the outside in their doings; and itseemed to him that there was a barrier between them and him. Sometimesthey seemed to think that it was his fault if he could not play football,and he was unable to make them understand. He was left a good deal tohimself. He had been inclined to talkativeness, but gradually he becamesilent. He began to think of the difference between himself and others.The biggest boy in his dormitory, Singer, took a dislike to him, andPhilip, small for his age, had to put up with a good deal of hardtreatment. About half-way through the term a mania ran through the schoolfor a game called Nibs. It was a game for two, played on a table or a formwith steel pens. You had to push your nib with the finger-nail so as toget the point of it over your opponent's, while he manoeuvred to preventthis and to get the point of his nib over the back of yours; when thisresult was achieved you breathed on the ball of your thumb, pressed ithard on the two nibs, and if you were able then to lift them withoutdropping either, both nibs became yours. Soon nothing was seen but boysplaying this game, and the more skilful acquired vast stores of nibs. Butin a little while Mr. Watson made up his mind that it was a form ofgambling, forbade the game, and confiscated all the nibs in the boys'possession. Philip had been very adroit, and it was with a heavy heartthat he gave up his winning; but his fingers itched to play still, and afew days later, on his way to the football field, he went into a shop andbought a pennyworth of J pens. He carried them loose in his pocket andenjoyed feeling them. Presently Singer found out that he had them. Singerhad given up his nibs too, but he had kept back a very large one, calleda Jumbo, which was almost unconquerable, and he could not resist theopportunity of getting Philip's Js out of him. Though Philip knew that hewas at a disadvantage with his small nibs, he had an adventurousdisposition and was willing to take the risk; besides, he was aware thatSinger would not allow him to refuse. He had not played for a week and satdown to the game now with a thrill of excitement. He lost two of his smallnibs quickly, and Singer was jubilant, but the third time by some chancethe Jumbo slipped round and Philip was able to push his J across it. Hecrowed with triumph. At that moment Mr. Watson came in."What are you doing?" he asked.He looked from Singer to Philip, but neither answered."Don't you know that I've forbidden you to play that idiotic game?"Philip's heart beat fast. He knew what was coming and was dreadfullyfrightened, but in his fright there was a certain exultation. He had neverbeen swished. Of course it would hurt, but it was something to boast aboutafterwards."Come into my study."The headmaster turned, and they followed him side by side Singer whisperedto Philip:"We're in for it." Mr. Watson pointed to Singer."Bend over," he said.Philip, very white, saw the boy quiver at each stroke, and after the thirdhe heard him cry out. Three more followed."That'll do. Get up."Singer stood up. The tears were streaming down his face. Philip steppedforward. Mr. Watson looked at him for a moment."I'm not going to cane you. You're a new boy. And I can't hit a cripple.Go away, both of you, and don't be naughty again."When they got back into the school-room a group of boys, who had learnedin some mysterious way what was happening, were waiting for them. They setupon Singer at once with eager questions. Singer faced them, his face redwith the pain and marks of tears still on his cheeks. He pointed with hishead at Philip, who was standing a little behind him."He got off because he's a cripple," he said angrily.Philip stood silent and flushed. He felt that they looked at him withcontempt."How many did you get?" one boy asked Singer.But he did not answer. He was angry because he had been hurt"Don't ask me to play Nibs with you again," he said to Philip. "It's jollynice for you. You don't risk anything.""I didn't ask you.""Didn't you!"He quickly put out his foot and tripped Philip up. Philip was alwaysrather unsteady on his feet, and he fell heavily to the ground."Cripple," said Singer.For the rest of the term he tormented Philip cruelly, and, though Philiptried to keep out of his way, the school was so small that it wasimpossible; he tried being friendly and jolly with him; he abased himself,so far as to buy him a knife; but though Singer took the knife he was notplacated. Once or twice, driven beyond endurance, he hit and kicked thebigger boy, but Singer was so much stronger that Philip was helpless, andhe was always forced after more or less torture to beg his pardon. It wasthat which rankled with Philip: he could not bear the humiliation ofapologies, which were wrung from him by pain greater than he could bear.And what made it worse was that there seemed no end to his wretchedness;Singer was only eleven and would not go to the upper school till he wasthirteen. Philip realised that he must live two years with a tormentorfrom whom there was no escape. He was only happy while he was working andwhen he got into bed. And often there recurred to him then that queerfeeling that his life with all its misery was nothing but a dream, andthat he would awake in the morning in his own little bed in London.