A Prefect's Uncle
making his acquaintance, according to instructions received.     

       'Are you Wilson?' he asked. 'P.V. Wilson?'     

       Wilson confirmed the charge.     

       'My name's Marriott. Does that convey any significance to your young mind?'     

       'Oh, yes. My mater knows somebody who knows your aunt.'     

       'It is a true bill.'     

       'And she said you would look after me. I know you won't have time, of course.'     

       'I expect I shall have time to give you all the looking after you'll require. It won't be much, from all I've heard. Was all that true about you and young Skinner?'     

       Wilson grinned.     

       'I did have a bit of a row with a chap called Skinner,' he admitted.     

       'So Skinner seems to think,' said Marriott. 'What was it all about?'     

       'Oh, he made an ass of himself,' said Wilson vaguely.     

       Marriott nodded.     

       'He would. I know the man. I shouldn't think you'd have much trouble with Skinner in the future. By the way, I've got you for a fag this term. You don't have to do much in the summer. Just rot around, you know, and go to the shop for biscuits and things, that's all. And, within limits of course, you get the run of the study.'     

       'I see,' said Wilson gratefully. The prospect was pleasant.     

       'Oh yes, and it's your privilege to pipe-clay my cricket boots occasionally before First matches. You'll like that. Can you steer a boat?'     

       'I don't think so. I never tried.'     

       'It's easy enough. I'll tell you what to do. Anyhow, you probably won't steer any worse than I row, so let's go and get a boat out, and I'll try and think of a few more words of wisdom for your benefit.'     


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