Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale

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Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards you fellows will need a lot of coaching. Well, I’m going to coach you.” “Howly mother av Moses! I—I—I mean, that’s jolly good of you, Coker.” “Well, I don’t mind how much trouble I take,” said Coker. “I want the thing to be a success. I have a sort of gift as an actor, but naturally you fellows haven’t—it’s not the sort of thing that comes everybody’s way. Keep your eyes on me in rehearsal, and you’ll pick it all up all right.” “Help!” murmured Greene. “What did you say, Greene?” “I said carry on, old chap! We’re all listening.” “I think it’s up to us to do Shakespeare,” went on Coker. “There’s a gang of fags in the school, I believe, who potter about doing amateur theatricals in the Rag. We don’t want to be classed with them. Shakespeare puts things on a higher footing altogether. And if you fellows feel that it’s a bit above your weight, you’ve only got to remember that one really good actor can pull a show through.” “Who’s the one?” asked Fitzgerald. “Me!” said Coker. “Oh, howly smoke!” “If that means that you think I can’t play Hamlet, Terence Fitzgerald—!” “Faith, and I’ve no doubt you could play his head off, Coker,” said Fitzgerald, amicably, “and by the same token, are ye keeping that cold chicken in the hamper?” “Eh! Not at all! Help yourself, old chap.” The cold chicken was large and plump and delectable. It seemed to reconcile the Fifth-form Stage Club to the idea of Coker playing the Prince of Denmark. Coker went on talking. The Stage Club had no objection to Coker talking while they ate cold chicken. “There’s a lot in Shakespeare,” said Coker. “Fellows think he’s awful rot because we get him in class. But there’s a lot in him really. Take the soliloquy in Hamlet, for example. I’ve been mugging it up, as it comes into my part—I’ve got it written out here somewhere—.” Coker searched for his script, while the Stage Club demolished the cold chicken. He found it by the time the chicken had disappeared. There was a large cake to follow: and it followed the chicken, in segments, while Coker looked at his script. Coker’s handwriting often puzzled Mr. Prout— sometimes it puzzled Coker himself a little. “I haven’t memorised this yet,” Coker explained, “I’ll speak it from the script. I won’t give you the lot—just a specimen to show how it should be done. Just listen carefully, and pick up tips about elocution and delivery, see?” Page 30 of 161
Billy Bunter’s Benefit By Frank Richards The Stage Club ate cake, while Coker scanned his script. It was rather difficult to make out all the scribbled words, especially as some of them were smudged. But Coker was not the man to hesitate. He went ahead with confidence. “To be or not to be, that is the question, Whether the cobbler—.” “Cobbler?” gasped Potter. “No—nobler—there’s a smudge. Don’t interrupt Potter. It cramps a fellow’s style. Just listen.” “Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer The wings and sparrows of outrageous fortune.” “The whatter?” stuttered Greene. “The wings and sparrows of outrageous fortune—,” repeated Coker, frowning. “Sure that’s right?” gurgled Fitzgerald. “Well, the writing’s a bit blurred, but I think it’s all right. There doesn’t seem much sense in it, but of course you couldn’t expect much in Shakespeare. But don’t interrupt—you spoil the whole thing by interrupting.” “Sure, I wouldn’t like to spoil a good thing. Carry on, Coker, old man.” Coker carried on. “The wings and sparrows of outrageous fortune, “Or to take arms against a sea of bubbles—.” “Isn’t it a sea of troubles?” asked Price, with a wink at the other devourers of Aunt Judy’s cake. “No, it isn’t,” snapped Coker. “You’re a bit of a fathead, Pricey, but you ought to know better than that. There’s bubbles in the sea—not troubles, that I’ve ever heard of. Perhaps you have, though,” added Coker, sarcastically. “Well, I thought—.” “Don’t you start thinking, Pricey, it’s not in your line. Just listen!” And Coker boomed on. “Or to take arms against a sea of bubbles, And by composing, mend them” “And by composing, mend them!” said Potter, almost dazedly. “Isn’t it ‘and by opposing, end them’?” “No! That would be rot.” “Poor old Shakespeare,” murmured Fitzgerald. “He didn’t know it was rot! Pity he was before Coker’s time. Coker could have given him the tip. Page 31 of 161
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