Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards “Easy as falling off a form,” he went on, as the Co. only smiled without making any rejoinder. “See me do it.” “The easifulness is not terrific, my esteemed Smithy,” said Hurree Jamset Ram Singh. “It may look easy, but there is always a slip between the cracked pitcher and the bird in the bush, as the English proverb remarks.” “This hill’s a bit steep for stunts, Smithy,” said Harry Wharton. “I fancy that I can do anything that any Remove man can do,” answered the Bounder, disdainfully. “Just watch,.” A little forgetful of a bruised knee and a crooked pedal, the Bounder put on speed. Only sustained speed could perform that little feat. Smithy shot on like an arrow, released his handle-bars and put his hands in his trousers pockets, and sailed on merrily after Bob Cherry, in precisely the same manner. “Silly ass!” murmured Johnny Bull. “Oh, Smithy must always do anything any other fellow can do,” said Frank Nugent. “I hope he won’t come a purler.” Harry Wharton looked a little anxious. He did not like Bob performing that rather risky feat going uphill: and Smithy, stout fellow as he was, certainly was not Bob’s equal in muscular strength. And a sudden crash with one’s hands in one’s pockets was likely to be very unpleasant. Whether Vernon-Smith could have carried on without disaster or not, a sharp twinge in his knee did it! His bike just failed to keep up the required speed to keep it steady. In the twinkling of an eye, it curled and crashed, and the Bounder went rolling in the dust. “Oh, my hat!” exclaimed Nugent. “Man down!” grunted Johnny Bull, “Absurd pride goes before an esteemed fall!” murmured Hurree Jamset Ram Singh. “Smithy!” exclaimed Harry Wharton. He jumped down, his example followed by his friends. Bob Cherry, hearing the crash behind him, grasped his handle-bars again, and looked back. “Hello, hello, hello, what’s up?” he exclaimed. “Nothing’s up—Smithy’s down!” called back Johnny Bull. “The downfulness is terrific.” Bob came cycling back, and jumped down. The five juniors gathered at once round the Bounder. He was sprawling and panting in the dust, his expression quite unpleasant with mingled rage and chagrin. “Hurt, old chap?” asked Bob. “Idiot!” was Smithy’s polite reply. “Thanks,” said Bob, drily. “Let me give you a hand, Smithy—,” said Harry. Page 10 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards “Leave me alone.” Vernon-Smith sat up, gasping for breath. He certainly was hurt, and he was lucky in the damage being only painful, and not more serious. But it was painful enough: he felt as if he had collected all the aches and pains in the wide world, and a few over. But he felt the mortification more than the pains and aches. He had set out to do what he couldn’t do, and his failure was ignominious. “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” was a text that Smithy might often have found it useful to remember. Having savagely rejected offers of aid, Smithy found that he could not, for the moment, get on his feet unaided! He sat and panted, with a brow like thunder, his eyes glinting. The Famous Five waited. They were sympathetic, but Smithy’s look indicated very clearly that any expression of sympathy would be taken as an offence. So they waited in silence for him to get to his feet. He got on them at last, unsteadily. Then be bestowed a scowl on five faces in succession. “You needn’t look like a funeral party,” he snarled. “I’m not made of putty.” “Feel like coming on?” asked Harry, mildly. “Of course.” Smithy did not feel in the least like coming on. He would have been glad to sit down and rest, and cut out the spin altogether. But nothing would have induced him to admit as much. “We’ll wait a bit—!” said Frank Nugent. “You can wait, if you like hanging about,” snapped Vernon-Smith. “I’ve come out for a spin, and I’m going on.’ He stepped, rather unsteadily, towards the crashed bicycle. Five fellows exchanged a smile. But their faces became grave again at once as Smithy flashed a look round at them. “I should have done it easily enough, but one of my pedals was twisted,” he said. “That fat fool Bunter had my bike, that’s why. Nothing in it.” “Nothing in what?” asked Bob, who had not seen Smithy’s performance, having had his back to him. “Smithy was stunting like you,” explained Harry. “He had bad luck.” “Oh!” said Bob. “Well, there’s nothing in it, only it’s a bit risky going uphill—.” “More risky for me than for you?” asked Vernon-Smith, with a glare. “Not at all, old chap,” answered Bob, soothingly. “But any fellow doing it might come a purler. Rough luck.” Herbert Vernon-Smith grunted, and turned to his machine. The Page 11 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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