Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards need of three guineas, had! To leave it under the carpet in No. 1 Study was a sheer waste. That was how Bunter looked at it. It seemed reasonable enough to him. But he was aware that Quelch, after the manner of school-masters, might take some unreasonable view of the matter. Really, you never knew where you were, with a school-master. They were down on all sorts of things that seemed quite all right to Bunter! “I was amazed,” Mr. Quelch was going on. “I was astounded! I could scarcely believe my eyes! I can scarcely believe them now! Such audacity—such unheard-of effrontery—.” The thunder was rolling now! “Oh!” stuttered Bunter. “I—I——-.” “Such unscrupulousness — such obtuseness — such insensate stupidity!” thundered Mr. Quelch. “I can scarcely believe, Bunter, that you could hope to palm off these verses as your own.” “Oh!” ejaculated several voices in the staring crowd of juniors. They were getting a clue now to the cause of Quelch’s ire. “You have written this paper—you have signed your name upon it—you have handed it in as your own!” thundered Quelch. “Oh! Yes, sir!” gasped Bunter. “Bunter! Do you dare to claim these verses as your own?” almost shrieked the Remove master. “Oh, crikey! I—I mean, yes, sir. N-n-nobody else did them for me,” stammered Bunter. “That—that’s my paper, sir. ‘Tain’t Wharton’s.” “Wharton’s!” repeated Mr. Quelch, as if dazed. “Yes, sir—I—I mean, no, sir! If—if my paper’s a bit like Wharton’s sir, I— I can’t help it; It—it’s—it’s just a coincidence, sir.” “You unspeakably stupid boy, do you imagine that I could suppose that Wharton, or any boy of my form, could write such verses as these?” Quelch was shrieking again. “Oh! No, sir! Yes, sir! Oh, lor’!” Bunter could only splutter. He was quite at a loss. Quelch might have found out somehow that the verses were Wharton’s. But it was not, it seemed, that. So what was the matter with Quelch, the unfortunate fat Owl could not begin to guess. “Bunter! I almost doubt whether you are in your senses!” “Oh, really, sir—.” “You have endeavoured to palm off on me, your form-master, verses which neither you nor any other Greyfriars boy could have written—.’ “Oh, lor’.” “Verses,” continued Mr. Quelch, almost ferociously, “with which I have Page 110 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards been well acquainted ever since I was a schoolboy myself.” Bunter almost fell down. “Verses, Bunter, which have been famous for many centuries—verses which were written almost two thousand years ago—written by the greatest poet of the Augustan age—verses with which every schoolmaster is familiar— known to almost every senior schoolboy—.” Bunter could only goggle at him. So far as Bunter knew, these verses had been written by Harry Wharton, of the Remove, in No. 1 Study at Greyfriars School! Hadn’t he found them there, written in Wharton’s fist? It seemed to Bunter that Quelch must be wandering in his mind. “Such effrontery—such audacity—such unscrupulous mendacity—such insensate stupidity!” Quelch was almost gasping. “Could you imagine, Bunter, when you copied these verses from Virgil, that I, a school-master, was unacquainted with the works of that poet, and could be imposed upon? Could you suppose for one moment that a form-master in this school had never read the seventh eclogue of Virgil? Are you in your wits?” “Oh, my hat!” gasped Bob Cherry, involuntarily. “Oh, that fat idiot!” breathed Peter Todd. “I am amazed,—shocked—astounded! The dishonesty of such an action is appalling! But the stupidity of it is almost beyond credence!” articulated Mr. Quelch, “You have handed in, as your own work, verses with which I have been familiar from boyhood!—copied from one of the best-known works of a celebrated poet—and apparently hoped to escape detection!” Mr. Quelch held up the paper. The juniors stared at it. They had been very curious about what sort of paper Billy Bunter could have handed in for the Latin Prize. But certainly they had not expected this! They fairly blinked at that Latin paper. The hand was Bunter’s—the verses were written in his well-known scrawl. But the composition certainly was not Bunter’s! Forte sub arguta consederat ilice Daphnis, compulerantque greges Corydon et Thyrsis in unum. Thysis ovis, Corydon distentas lacte capellas, ambo florentes aetatibus, Arcades ambo, et cantare pares et respondere parati. Quelch tapped the paper again with a lean forefinger. “These verses, Bunter, copied from the seventh eclogue of Virgil, you have endeavoured Page 111 of 161
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Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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