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In 1900, after the sudden death of Headmaster Meldrum, Chips becomes Acting Head of Brookfield, but is not disappointed when a younger, more charismatic successor is appointed. The narrative reflects on significant events during Chips' tenure, including the death of King Edward VII, a railway strike, and the Titanic disaster, highlighting Chips' belief in the dignity of England and his connection to the students. The story captures the changing social landscape of early 20th century England and Chips' compassionate interactions with his students.

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14 views

10

In 1900, after the sudden death of Headmaster Meldrum, Chips becomes Acting Head of Brookfield, but is not disappointed when a younger, more charismatic successor is appointed. The narrative reflects on significant events during Chips' tenure, including the death of King Edward VII, a railway strike, and the Titanic disaster, highlighting Chips' belief in the dignity of England and his connection to the students. The story captures the changing social landscape of early 20th century England and Chips' compassionate interactions with his students.

Uploaded by

iqbaljutt
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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CHAPTER 10

In 1900 old Meldrum, who had succeeded Wetherby as Head and had
held office for three decades, died suddenly from pneumonia; and in the interval
before the appointment of a successor, Chips became Acting Head of Brookfield.
There was just the faintest chance that the Governors might make the
appointment a permanent one; but Chips was not really disappointed when they
brought im a mere youngster of thirty-seven, glittering with Firsts and Blues and
with the land of personality that could reduce Big Hall to silence by the mere
hfting of an eyebrow Chips was not in the running with that kind of person; he
never had been and never would be, and he knew it. He was an altogether
milder and less ferocious animal.
Those years before his retirement in 1913 were studded with sharply
remembered pictures.
A May morning; the clang of the School bell at an unaccustomed time;
everyone summoned to assemble in Big Hall. Ralston, the new Head, very
pontifical and aware of himself, fixing the multitude with a cold presaging
severity. “You will all be deeply grieved to hear that His Majesty King Edward
the Seventh died this morning. . There will be no school this afternoon, but a
service will be held m the Chapel at four-thirty.”
A summer morning on the railway line near Brookfield. The railway men
were on strike, soldiers were driving the engines, stones had been thrown at
trains. Brookfield boys were patrolling the line, thinking the whole business
great fun. Chips, who was in charge, stood a little way off, talking to a man at the
gate of a cottage. Young Cricklade approached. “Please, sir, what shall we do if
we Ineet any strikers?”
“Would you like to meet one?”
“TI — I don't know, sir.”
God bless the boy——he talked of them as if they were queer animals out
of a Zoo! “Well, here you are then—umph~you can meet Mr Jones—he's a
striker When he’s on duty he has charge of the signal box at the station. You've
put your life in his hands many a time.”
Afterwards the story went round the School There was Chips, talking to
a stnker. Talking to a stnker. Might have been quite fnendly, the way they were
talking together.
Chips, thinking it over a good many times, always added to himself that
Kathie would have approved, and would also have been amused.
Because always, whatever happened and however the avenues of politics
twisted and curved, he had faith in England, in English flesh and blood, and in
Brookfield as a place whose ulimate worth depended on whether she fitted
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herself into the English scene with dignity and without disproportion. He had
been left a vision that grew clearer with each year—of an England for whom
days of ease were nearly over, of a nation steering into channels where a hair's
breadth of error might be catastrophic He remembered the Diamond Jubilee;
there had been a whole holiday at Brookfield, and he had taken Kathie to
London to see the procession. That old and legendary lady, sitting in her
carriage like some crumbling wooden doll, had symbolized impressively so
many things that, like herself, were nearing an end Was it only the century, or
was it an epoch?
And then that frenzied Edwardian decade, like an electric lamp that goes
brighter and whiter just before it burns itself out
Strikes and lock-outs, champagne suppers and unemployed marchers,
Chinese labour, tariff reform, H.M.S. Dreadnought, Marcom, Home Rule for
Ireland, Doctor Crippen, suffragettes, the lines of Chataha .. And April evening,
windy and rainy; the fourth form construing Virgil, not very intelligently, for
there was exciting news in the papers; young Grayson, in particular was careless
and preoccupied. A quiet, nervous boy.
“Grayson, stay behind—umph—after the rest.”
Then: “Grayson, 1 don’t want to be-umph—severe, because you are
generally pretty good — umph — in your work, but to-day — you don't seem —
umph — to have been trying at all Is anything the matter?”
“N—n0;siri"
“Well — umph — we'll say no more about it — but - umph — I shall expect
better things next time.”
Next morning it was noised around the School that Grayson’s father had
sailed on the Titanic, and that no news had yet come through, as to his fate.
Grayson was excused lessons, for a whole day the School centred
emotionally upon his anxieties. Then came news that his father had been among
those rescued.
Chips sheok hands with the boy. “Well, umph ~ I’m delighted, Grayson
A happy ending You must be feeling pretty pleased with life.”
“Y — yes, sir.”
A quiet, nervous boy. And it was Grayson Senior, not junior with whom
Chips was destined later to candole.

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