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The

guard

blows

his

whistle

;

the

flag

is

dipped

;

without

an

effort

,

of

its

own

momentum

,

like

an

avalanche

started

by

a

gentle

push

,

we

start

forward

.

Bernard

spreads

a

rug

and

plays

knuckle-bones

.

Neville

reads

.

London

crumbles

.

London

heaves

and

surges

.

There

is

a

bristling

of

chimneys

and

towers

.

There

a

white

church

;

there

a

mast

among

the

spires

.

There

a

canal

.

Now

there

are

open

spaces

with

asphalt

paths

upon

which

it

is

strange

that

people

should

now

be

walking

.

There

is

a

hill

striped

with

red

houses

.

A

man

crosses

a

bridge

with

a

dog

at

his

heels

.

Now

the

red

boy

begins

firing

at

a

pheasant

.

The

blue

boy

shoves

him

aside

.

"

My

uncle

is

the

best

shot

in

England

.

My

cousin

is

Master

of

Foxhounds

.

"

Boasting

begins

.

And

I

can

not

boast

,

for

my

father

is

a

banker

in

Brisbane

,

and

I

speak

with

an

Australian

accent

.

'

'

After

all

this

hubbub

,

'

said

Neville

,

'

all

this

scuffling

and

hubbub

,

we

have

arrived

.

This

is

indeed

a

moment

--

this

is

indeed

a

solemn

moment

.

I

come

,

like

a

lord

to

his

halls

appointed

.

That

is

our

founder

;

our

illustrious

founder

,

standing

in

the

courtyard

with

one

foot

raised

.

I

salute

our

founder

.

A

noble

Roman

air

hangs

over

these

austere

quadrangles

.

Already

the

lights

are

lit

in

the

form

rooms

.

Those

are

laboratories

perhaps

;

and

that

a

library

,

where

I

shall

explore

the

exactitude

of

the

Latin

language

,

and

step

firmly

upon

the

well-laid

sentences

,

and

pronounce

the

explicit

,

the

sonorous

hexameters

of

Virgil

,

of

Lucretius

;

and

chant

with

a

passion

that

is

never

obscure

or

formless

the

loves

of

Catullus

,

reading

from

a

big

book

,

a

quarto

with

margins

.

I

shall

lie

,

too

,

in

the

fields

among

the

tickling

grasses

.

I

shall

lie

with

my

friends

under

the

towering

elm

trees

.

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'

Behold

,

the

Headmaster

.

Alas

,

that

he

should

excite

my

ridicule

.

He

is

too

sleek

,

he

is

altogether

too

shiny

and

black

,

like

some

statue

in

a

public

garden

.

And

on

the

left

side

of

his

waistcoat

,

his

taut

,

his

drum-like

waistcoat

,

hangs

a

crucifix

.

'

'

Old

Crane

,

'

said

Bernard

,

'n

ow

rises

to

address

us

.

Old

Crane

,

the

Headmaster

,

has

a

nose

like

a

mountain

at

sunset

,

and

a

blue

cleft

in

his

chin

,

like

a

wooded

ravine

,

which

some

tripper

has

fired

;

like

a

wooded

ravine

seen

from

the

train

window

.

He

sways

slightly

,

mouthing

out

his

tremendous

and

sonorous

words

.

I

love

tremendous

and

sonorous

words

.

But

his

words

are

too

hearty

to

be

true

.

Yet

he

is

by

this

time

convinced

of

their

truth

.

And

when

he

leaves

the

room

,

lurching

rather

heavily

from

side

to

side

,

and

hurls

his

way

through

the

swing-doors

,

all

the

masters

,

lurching

rather

heavily

from

side

to

side

,

hurl

themselves

also

through

the

swing-doors

.

This

is

our

first

night

at

school

,

apart

from

our

sisters

.

'

'

This

is

my

first

night

at

school

,

'

said

Susan

,

'

away

from

my

father

,

away

from

my

home

.

My

eyes

swell

;

my

eyes

prick

with

tears

.

I

hate

the

smell

of

pine

and

linoleum

.

I

hate

the

wind-bitten

shrubs

and

the

sanitary

tiles

.

I

hate

the

cheerful

jokes

and

the

glazed

look

of

everyone

.

I

left

my

squirrel

and

my

doves

for

the

boy

to

look

after

.

The

kitchen

door

slams

,

and

shot

patters

among

the

leaves

when

Percy

fires

at

the

rooks

.

All

here

is

false

;

all

is

meretricious

.

Rhoda

and

Jinny

sit

far

off

in

brown

serge

,

and

look

at

Miss

Lambert

who

sits

under

a

picture

of

Queen

Alexandra

reading

from

a

book

before

her

.

There

is

also

a

blue

scroll

of

needlework

embroidered

by

some

old

girl

.

If

I

do

not

purse

my

lips

,

if

I

do

not

screw

my

handkerchief

,

I

shall

cry

.

'

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'

The

purple

light

,

'

said

Rhoda

,

'

in

Miss

Lambert

's

ring

passes

to

and

fro

across

the

black

stain

on

the

white

page

of

the

Prayer

Book

.

It

is

a

vinous

,

it

is

an

amorous

light

.

Now

that

our

boxes

are

unpacked

in

the

dormitories

,

we

sit

herded

together

under

maps

of

the

entire

world

.

There

are

desks

with

wells

for

the

ink

.

We

shall

write

our

exercises

in

ink

here

.

But

here

I

am

nobody

.

I

have

no

face

.

This

great

company

,

all

dressed

in

brown

serge

,

has

robbed

me

of

my

identity

.

We

are

all

callous

,

unfriended

.

I

will

seek

out

a

face

,

a

composed

,

a

monumental

face

,

and

will

endow

it

with

omniscience

,

and

wear

it

under

my

dress

like

a

talisman

and

then

(

I

promise

this

)

I

will

find

some

dingle

in

a

wood

where

I

can

display

my

assortment

of

curious

treasures

.

I

promise

myself

this

.

So

I

will

not

cry

.

'

'

That

dark

woman

,

'

said

Jinny

,

'

with

high

cheek-bones

,

has

a

shiny

dress

,

like

a

shell

,

veined

,

for

wearing

in

the

evening

.

That

is

nice

for

summer

,

but

for

winter

I

should

like

a

thin

dress

shot

with

red

threads

that

would

gleam

in

the

firelight

.

Then

when

the

lamps

were

lit

,

I

should

put

on

my

red

dress

and

it

would

be

thin

as

a

veil

,

and

would

wind

about

my

body

,

and

billow

out

as

I

came

into

the

room

,

pirouetting

.

It

would

make

a

flower

shape

as

I

sank

down

,

in

the

middle

of

the

room

,

on

a

gilt

chair

.

But

Miss

Lambert

wears

an

opaque

dress

,

that

falls

in

a

cascade

from

her

snow-white

ruffle

as

she

sits

under

a

picture

of

Queen

Alexandra

pressing

one

white

finger

firmly

on

the

page

.

And

we

pray

.

'

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