This oration, delivered with great animation and amidst constant laughter, helped to put the meeting in rather better humour, all except the Parrett’s fellows, who did not enjoy it at all.

However, before any of them could make up his mind to reply, a shrill voice was heard from the other end of the hall, “Sir! It is time the Welchers had a word!”

This innocent announcement caused a loud burst of laughter, in which every one joined, especially when it was discovered that the orator was none other than the youthful Mr Pilbury himself!

He stood surrounded by a small cluster of admiring juniors, who glared defiantly out on the assembly generally, and “backed up their man” till he could hardly breathe.

“It’s all very well,” screamed Pilbury. (Loud cheers from Cusack and Philpot.) But here the chairman’s hammer sounded and cries of “Order” checked the orator’s progress.

“The hon. member,” said Isaacs, “cannot propose his motion till the motion before the House is disposed of.”

Pilbury scowled fiercely at the speaker.

“I shall propose it,” he cried, “and you’d better shut up, old Ikey!”

Game, amid much laughter, rose to order, and asked if these expressions were parliamentary?

Isaacs said, “Certainly not, and Mr Pilbury must withdraw them.”

Mr Pilbury said “he’d withdraw his grandmother,” and attempted to continue his speech, when Fairbairn rose and suggested to the hon. member that if he would only wait a bit the House would be delighted to hear him. After this conciliatory advice Pilbury let himself be pulled down into his seat by his admirers, and the debate on Game’s amendment continued.

It was hot and exciting. The arguments were mostly on the side of the schoolhouse, and the vehemence on the side of Parrett’s. Once or twice a Welcher dropped in a speech, attacking both parties and once or twice a schoolhouse boy spoke in favour of Bloomfield, or a Parrett’s boy spoke in favour of Riddell. At last, after about an hour’s angry debate, the House divided. That is, all those in favour of Game’s amendment moved over to one side of the room, and those against it to the other, and those who did not want to vote at all kept their seats in the middle.

There was no need to count the numbers of the rival parties as they stood. Only about twenty-five stood beside Fairbairn and the schoolhouse, while nearly two hundred and fifty boys crowded the side of the room along which Game and his followers took their stand. The triumph of the opponents to the new captain was complete, and the school had given him and the head master a most emphatic reply to the late appointment.

Riddell would have much preferred to be allowed to withdraw of his own accord rather than remain to be beaten. But his friends had all opposed the idea as cowardly, and he had given in to them. He now took his defeat very placidly, and even joined in the laughter which greeted Mr Isaac’s call.

“Now, Mr Pilbury!”

Mr Pilbury was “off his speech.” If he had been allowed to proceed when he first rose, he had the steam up and could have let out, as he told his friends; but now the spirit had been taken out of him. However, he was compelled to make an effort, and began as before, “Sir, it is time the Welchers had a word.”

He didn’t mean anything funny, he was certain, but everybody laughed.

“Why shouldn’t old Cusack here—” (“Order, order”)—“What’s the row?”

Isaacs informed the hon. gentleman that members of that House were always called “Mr”

“Mr Cusack, then,” said Pilbury, “it’s just a dodge of Ikey to floor me in my speech. Why shouldn’t old Mr Cusack— Eh, what say?”

This was addressed to Philpot, who was eagerly trying to prompt his ally.

“Go it, let out at them,” he whispered.

“Why shouldn’t old Mr Cusack go it and let out — that is — all right, Philpot, you pig, I’ll pay you out, see if I don’t. Why shouldn’t old Mr Cusack, gentlemen — er—”

“Do,” suggested Cusack himself.

“Do,” shouted Pilbury, “do, gentlemen — do? Why shouldn’t — (all right, Gus Telson, I see you chucking darts) — why shouldn’t old Mr Cusack—”

“Does any gentleman second the amendment?” asked Mr Isaacs, evidently getting hungry and anxious to be released from his post.

“Yes,” shouted Philpot, “Mr Gentlemen, yes, I do — and—”

“Wait a bit, you howling cad,” exclaimed Pilbury, in excitement. “I’ve not done yet!”

“Mr Philpot!” said Mr Isaacs.

“Philpot be blowed,” cried the irate Pilbury, “wait till I’m done.”

“Order, order,” shouted members on all sides.

“Moved by Mr Pilbury, seconded by Mr Philpot,” began Isaacs.

“Easy all,” cried Philpot, “I’ve not spoken yet.”

“Order, order,” cried Isaacs.

“Order yourself,” retorted Philpot, “I’ve got a right to speak.”

“So have I,” said Pilbury, “and I was up first.”

“Forge away,” said Philpot, “you’ll be all right.”

“Nothing to do with you if I am all right,” snarled Pilbury.

“You seem to think you’re the only fellow can talk.”

“Ays to the right, noes to the left,” said Isaacs, in a loud voice.

The House instantly divided, and before either Pilbury or Philpot could make up their minds about proceeding, the motion had been declared lost by a majority of three hundred odd to one.

In a great state of wrath the injured Welchers left the hall, making as much noise as they possibly could in doing so.

As soon as they were gone, Isaacs put the question that Bloomfield be elected Speaker, and this was carried without a division, the schoolhouse fellows not caring to demand one.

Amid loud and long-continued cheers the new Speaker took his seat, and as soon as silence could be restored, said, “I’m much obliged to you all for your vote. I hope Willoughby won’t go down. I’ll try to prevent it for one. (Loud cheers.) I’m very proud to be elected your Speaker, and feel it quite as much honour as if I was captain of the school.” (Loud cries of “So you are!”—from Parrett’s.) “In reference to what one gentleman said about me, I hope you won’t believe it. I’m twelfth in classics. (Laughter from the schoolhouse and terrific applause from Parrett’s.) That’s all I have to say.”

The remaining business of the afternoon was dull compared with what had gone before. The elections for the various posts in the Government did not excite very much enthusiasm, especially among the juniors, who deserted the meeting soon after they began. After what had occurred it is hardly to be wondered at that the partisans of Bloomfield and the Parretts had the matter pretty much in their own hands, and used it to their own advantage. When the list was finally declared, it was found that only one schoolhouse fellow, Porter, had a place in the “Cabinet.” He was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. Game was First Lord of the Admiralty, Wibberly, War Secretary, Ashley, Home Secretary, and Strutter, a comparatively obscure boy, Premier. All these, as well as the other officers appointed, were Parrett’s fellows, who may have flattered themselves their election was a simple recognition of merit in each case, but who, taken altogether, were a long way off being the most distinguished boys of Willoughby.

Parliament did not adjourn till a late hour that evening, and no one was particularly sorry when it did.