Bust-Up 1929
(This description appeared in the Easter 1930 Aymestrey School Magazine)
We are not sitting in our usual places for the tables have been re-arranged. A Union Jack is draped over the School Cups, and another on the opposite wall under the House flags. The Dining Hall is packed – we have never seen so many people collected there before. Of the visitors we can see Mrs Bates and Mr Peter Bates, Mrs Bunting, Mrs Slade, Mrs Smart, Mrs Coates and Miss Jean Coates, Mr and Mrs Gould, Mr Farmer, Miss Asterley; while a number of Old Boys are scattered about the room, so softly illuminated that we begin to count the candles, but give it up. A clatter of plates, the clink of knives and forks on them, the excited babble of voices round us bring back to us a fragment overheard at a local meet of hounds a few weeks before:
“Have you ever seen them eat H– ?”
“No”
“Well, they’re fed early in the morning – the only meal they get – and they eat and eat and eat, till they drop!”
“Really? What happens then?”
“Well, you ass, they swell, and swell and swell, of course!”
“Gosh! What a gorgeous sight! Just like the Bust Up!”
And to our mild enquiry about the Bust Up (for we were then inexperienced) the reply came, in surprised tones:
“The Bust Up, sir? Well, you eat till you bust – then you start again. That’s all!”
We are not sitting in our usual places for the tables have been re-arranged. A Union Jack is draped over the School Cups, and another on the opposite wall under the House flags. The Dining Hall is packed – we have never seen so many people collected there before. Of the visitors we can see Mrs Bates and Mr Peter Bates, Mrs Bunting, Mrs Slade, Mrs Smart, Mrs Coates and Miss Jean Coates, Mr and Mrs Gould, Mr Farmer, Miss Asterley; while a number of Old Boys are scattered about the room, so softly illuminated that we begin to count the candles, but give it up. A clatter of plates, the clink of knives and forks on them, the excited babble of voices round us bring back to us a fragment overheard at a local meet of hounds a few weeks before:
“Have you ever seen them eat H– ?”
“No”
“Well, they’re fed early in the morning – the only meal they get – and they eat and eat and eat, till they drop!”
“Really? What happens then?”
“Well, you ass, they swell, and swell and swell, of course!”
“Gosh! What a gorgeous sight! Just like the Bust Up!”
And to our mild enquiry about the Bust Up (for we were then inexperienced) the reply came, in surprised tones:
“The Bust Up, sir? Well, you eat till you bust – then you start again. That’s all!”
* * * * *
The candles are burning lower. We rest farther back in our chairs. The babble has subsided a little, but the hush that is stealing over us is broken by Clerkie, who has risen. We cheer him vigorously, and repeat it when ‘Sir’ replies. Now we are applauding Brazier’s song, but before we have finished Johnstone is proposing the Staff, for whom Mr FitzAucher replies. Mr Rice is on his feet, welcoming the visitors and when Mrs Lowes has sat down again Dan and Mr Lockhart are managing “Heres to Good Old Aymestrey” in loud tones with great success. There is a rustle behind us. Eyton Coates! When he has finished speaking he sings. We encore him of course.
We all rise with difficulty and line the walls, with our arms crossed and hands joined. “Auld Lang Syne” over and over again. We pull ourselves together. Exercise must be taken or something will happen. Follow-my-leader up the front stairs, through the West dormitory, down the back stairs, up the end ones, down a dark passage, over beds, out of the West dormitory again, on to the landing once more, running, tripping, falling, panting. The pace is hot so we fall out and try to conceal the fact by descending by the back stairs, but alas! we collide with others doing the same thing. We wander into the Hall. Dancing? Too early? The billiard room for us.
The floor is crowded with sprawling people, on their backs, on their sides, and even on their faces – legs stretched out, some doubled under, others seem to have none at all. The music starts again and we join in. It stops suddenly – we fall. The numbers on the floor are fewer. Disqualified – out we go. Two are left but McGowan has to acknowledge Mr Lockhart as Champion Bumper.
Another game starts. We are in lines three or four deep, and move forwards on Dan’s command “sea” or backward on his “shore”. But we quickly succumb to the difficulty of anticipating correctly his orders, so we leave them to it, and valse with Johnstone in the Hall. After the dance we are told to take our partners. A Swedish dance (or is it a Spanish one?) How do we do it? Hands and arms – over and under. From the billiard room we hear a peal of laughter. In and out – “sea and shore” backwards and forwards. Now something’s wrong! The music continues.
We all rise with difficulty and line the walls, with our arms crossed and hands joined. “Auld Lang Syne” over and over again. We pull ourselves together. Exercise must be taken or something will happen. Follow-my-leader up the front stairs, through the West dormitory, down the back stairs, up the end ones, down a dark passage, over beds, out of the West dormitory again, on to the landing once more, running, tripping, falling, panting. The pace is hot so we fall out and try to conceal the fact by descending by the back stairs, but alas! we collide with others doing the same thing. We wander into the Hall. Dancing? Too early? The billiard room for us.
The floor is crowded with sprawling people, on their backs, on their sides, and even on their faces – legs stretched out, some doubled under, others seem to have none at all. The music starts again and we join in. It stops suddenly – we fall. The numbers on the floor are fewer. Disqualified – out we go. Two are left but McGowan has to acknowledge Mr Lockhart as Champion Bumper.
Another game starts. We are in lines three or four deep, and move forwards on Dan’s command “sea” or backward on his “shore”. But we quickly succumb to the difficulty of anticipating correctly his orders, so we leave them to it, and valse with Johnstone in the Hall. After the dance we are told to take our partners. A Swedish dance (or is it a Spanish one?) How do we do it? Hands and arms – over and under. From the billiard room we hear a peal of laughter. In and out – “sea and shore” backwards and forwards. Now something’s wrong! The music continues.
* * * * *
It is a moonlight night outside. We pass a handkerchief round the inside of our collar. The pace is too hot once again. It’s cooler here.
“Sir, wait till the Bust Up comes!” – no wonder they could’nt forget it!
Everybody in the Hall. Games have ceased. The last dance is in progress. Sir Roger de Coverley! We join in.
“Sir, wait till the Bust Up comes!” – no wonder they could’nt forget it!
Everybody in the Hall. Games have ceased. The last dance is in progress. Sir Roger de Coverley! We join in.
* * * * *
Can we leave such a scene without toasting Tief for the night she has given us?
F A
F A