Snooker and little Grigley.
Arnold Waterlow: A Life. By May Sinclair. 1924
Chapter XX.
Three times Nicholson major, called Snooker, had placed his white mouse on the back of Arnold’s neck, and three times Arnold had removed the white mouse. Snooker was a big, top-heavy boy with a face like a bull.
“‘Ton d’ ar’ hypodra idon prosephe podasokus Achilleus.’ That’ll do, Snooker.”
“‘Ho trumpets, sound a war-note!
Ho lictors, clear the way!
The Knights will ride in all their pride
Along the streets to-day.'”
“Shut up, Wilkins, or I’ll lick you.”
”To-day the doors and windows
Are hung with garlands all,
From Castor in the Forum,
To Mars without the wall——-!'”
“Cock-a-leary-crow-ow!”
“This way, Mrs. Snooker, if you please. We shall find the little fellow among his class-mates. He has made very gratifying progress in his studies this term. Very gratifying indeed. . . . This way. Take care of the step. May I offer you a cup of tea? The cup that cheers but not inebriates. . . . If you saw him eat you would be under no apprehension. . . . You think so? Matron shall give the little fellow a dose of castor- oil. Yes, Mrs. Snooker, all the latest sanitary improvements. Allow me. Good-day to you. Good-day.”
And now they were whispering, Snooker and little Grigley, making a beastly mystery about something. Names sounded through the whispers.
“Waterlow major.”
“Who with?”
“Plunkett and Hanbury and young St. John.”
Richard-Richard. The blood swirled in Arnold’s head. He knew what they meant . But it was a lie. A lie.
“Oh, Lord!” said little Grigley.
“He’d better look out or he’ll be sacked,” said Snooker.
“Bound to be.”
“Serve him jolly well right, the skunk.”
Arnold started up. He faced Snooker.
“It’s a lie,” he screamed. “I’ll lick you for that.”
“We’ll see who’s licked,” said Snooker.
The fight took place in the fives court behind the screen of its projecting wall.
Arnold, quick with his feet and hands, struck home three times under Snooker’s guard. While Snooker lumbered, hitting out heavily, Arnold danced round him sideways and landed a blow on his jaw that infuriated Snooker. They closed together in a savage embrace, each trying to throw the other. In wrestling Snooker’s size and weight began to tell. He twisted his foot round Arnold’s ankle and Arnold fell backwards violently with the big boy straddling on the top of him, hitting him as he lay.
And now Snooker’s knees pressed into his stomach while Snooker’s fists pounded his face and chest. Blood from his nose ran down his throat and choked him. He gasped for breath, spluttering blood.
Then Albert and Wilfrid Godden came up and separated them, pulling Snooker off by his shirt collar and the slack of his trousers.