The credit of the idea must be given to Reggie; he suggested it at a time when we were all in low water and when his birthday gifts from loving uncles and aunts had just poured into Reggie’s receptive hands, so no mercenary motives can be imputed to him. If the idea did not turn out the brilliant success we anticipated, that was due to faults in the system, and not in the promoters.

We were all in Reggie’s rooms one day, forming a small committee of Ways and Means, with, as Squiff said, plenty of ways and no means, when Reggie suddenly remarked, ‘Why shouldn’t we have a fund?’

The Pilot, who conceals a tendency to make obvious and painful puns behind a solemn demeanour, had just begun, ‘The fundamental principle—,’ when Reggie remarked sadly, ‘I am serious.’

When the Pilot had been suppressed with two cushions and a syphon; Squiff inquired, ‘A fund, what for?’

‘For mutual help,’ answered Reggie.

‘Oh! a sort of coal-and-clothing-mothers’-meeting-keep-the-baby-warm kind of article,’ put in Freddy.

‘Not at all,’ said Reggie, ‘it will be something like this. I propose that each member—’

‘Who are the members to be?’ interrupted Squiff.

‘That,’ replied Reggie with an airy wave of the hand, ‘we can settle later. Each member shall contribute say five or eight pounds a term, which will be handed to the Treasurer and kept by him—’

‘If Squiff is made Treasurer the money will certainly be kept by him,’ interjected the Pilot.

After I had picked up the china ornament and the table-leg which were broken in the subsequent scuffle, Reggie continued, ‘The money will be kept by the Treasurer, who will not be a paid official, and used in time of stress by the members. For instance, supposing a summons has to be paid, or a railway-fare to town is required, the member needing the money will go to the Treasurer, and after pledging his word that the circumstances are urgent shall withdraw just as much as is needed and no more. There will also be special rules about repayment.’

‘They will be needed,’ I remarked; ‘and we must also have “urgent circumstances” clearly defined, as I foresee trouble on that score.’

‘Well,’ said Squiff, ‘if every one is agreed, that some such Society is needed, let us draw up the rules at once. If an undertaking like this is left under discussion after the first week of term the subscriptions will have to be lowered to five shillings, and that won’t be much use.’

‘Rule 1,’ said Reggie, tapping the table with a paper-knife, ‘That this Society be known as the “Cecil College Mutual Help Society.”’

Rule 2, ‘That the terminal subscription be five pounds with no entrance-fee, but that the membership be strictly limited.’

‘I think—’ began the Pilot.

‘Wait a moment till I have read out what I’ve written down and then we can discuss it,’ said Reggie.

Rule 3, ‘That all repayments of amounts drawn out over and above a member’s own subscription be made within eight weeks.’

Rule 4, ‘That every member before drawing out money must pledge his word that the circumstances are urgent. Such urgent circumstances must be taken to mean the entire lack of money on the borrower’s part, and the immediate necessity for a loan. Urgent circumstances do not include the need of theatre tickets, bouquets, suppers, payments of accounts before a solicitor’s letter has been received, or payment to any tailor or photographer.’

Rule 5, ‘That no money be borrowed during the first two weeks of term, and that no member who has failed to make repayment within eight weeks may avail himself of the privileges of membership until such repayment be made.’

Rule 6, ‘That in the event of all funds being exhausted before the last week of term, the Treasurer—who shall be elected terminally—shall call a meeting to announce the fact.’

Rule 7, ‘That any money left over—’

‘We can dispense with that rule,’ remarked Squiff, ‘there never will be any money left over.’

‘That’s all I’ve got down,’ said Reggie, ‘discussion may now commence.’

‘Supposing,’ remarked the Pilot, who is always ready with an objection, ‘supposing that the Treasurer himself borrows all the available funds at the beginning of the third week, or that he goes away leaving the money locked up, what is to happen?’

‘I propose rule seven,’ said Squiff. ‘The Treasurer to be unable to borrow without consulting two members, and in case of absence to appoint a deputy.’

‘Of course he must keep accounts,’ said Freddy; ‘and is responsible for collecting repayments and subscriptions.’

‘It’s a good idea,’ I said; ‘but will it work?’

‘We can but try,’ replied Reggie. ‘It saves incessant borrowing and is simple; both of which are great points in its favour. Are we all agreed on these seven Rules?’

‘Oughtn’t we to limit the borrowing powers of each member?’ asked Freddy.

‘That wouldn’t be any use,’ said Reggie; ‘but we can frame rule eight. That each member only borrow sufficient for his urgent need, and give to the Treasurer a statement of his reason for borrowing. That ought to be sufficient.’

‘I think so,’ agreed Freddy; ‘but we ought to exclude betting from the Urgent Circumstances.’

‘Right!’ said the Pilot, ‘and now for the members. There are five of us, Accrington will be six, von Graussman seven, and Fatty eight: that gives us forty pounds, which will do to start on. Suppose we appoint Fatty treasurer, he has a good head for figures.’

This proposal was unanimously carried, as Fatty was not present to decline the honour, and the meeting adjourned till the following evening in Fatty’s rooms. In the meanwhile the objects of the Club were explained to the other three in moving terms, and they promised their adherence. Von Graussman, whose father is a great Austrian financier, had grave doubts about the scheme, and wrote to his people for advice; meanwhile however, we collared his subscription, and he became, however unwillingly, a member.

A proposal by Fatty, who does not play cards, to exclude Bridge from the list of Urgent Circumstances was negatived by seven to one. The Pilot also was as usual full of objections, but these were overruled, and the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society started on its brief, but bright, career.

The first fortnight of the term was uneventful, and marked only by sustained attacks on the integrity of the Treasurer, by bribery and threats in order to induce him to break rule five. These having failed there was nothing to do but wait. On the first morning of the third week—it was a Saturday—Accrington and Squiff met at 9.15 at the bottom of the Treasurer’s staircase, and a race ensued for Fatty’s bedroom. The official however declared with unnecessary heat that business hours did not begin till 10.30, and so they were obliged to retire till then. At a quarter past ten, Squiff, who is an adept at manoeuvring, returned and began a conversation with Fatty who was at breakfast, which lasted till the clock struck half-past and Accrington’s step sounded on the staircase, and then he jumped up and remarked quietly ‘I want two tenners out of the Fund.’ Accrington, who arrived almost breathless, only required a modest fiver. Fatty took a seat at table with a large account-book and a stylo. He took Accrington’s case first as being the simpler, and was quite ready to advance the money, but some difficulty occurred in interpreting the rules.

‘How does one pledge one’s word within the meaning of the Act?’ enquired the Treasurer plaintively.

‘I should make him swear horribly,’ remarked Squiff; ‘I don’t think he’s the sort of person I should trust with the funds of any Club.’

The roll which Accrington threw at him did not hit him, but finished the career of a small china dog which had belonged to Fatty’s grandmother, and smashed two liqueur-glasses into fragments. When peace had been restored, Accrington produced a summons from Tuneham and Keighley—the piano-people in the High—for ‘the hire of piano for two years, tuning, replacing broken keys, do. wires, do. candlesticks, do. pedals, £5/2/: paid by cash, 2/-. Total owing. £5.’ This convinced Fatty, who handed over a cheque for five pounds without demur, and Accrington left rejoicing.

Squiff’s case was harder:

‘At the end of last term,’ he explained to Fatty, who had assumed a judicial aspect, ‘I had to raise money on my motor in order to have four nights in town and do the Rugger Match properly. It is still in Goldstein’s clutches: yesterday I got a telegram to say that my Uncle Terence—Sir Terence MacGurkin, my mater’s brother—who gave me the car, is coming down here, and wants me to take him for some nice spins. If he finds I’ve pawned it, there’ll be the devil to pay, and the uncle certainly won’t pay him, nor me. I shall have to run up to town to-day, get the mo-mo, pay Goldstein, and drive it down here, ready for Uncle Terence to-morrow; and,’ he concluded rapidly, ‘if the urgency isn’t apparent even to you’—‘Don’t be rude,’ interpolated Fatty—‘then nothing will ever penetrate your brain.’

‘I think,’ Fatty had begun, when hurried steps sounded on the stairs and von Graussman appeared clad in a most curious costume, and with unbrushed hair. To him Squiff immediately said, ‘I don’t think, old chap, that you ought to present yourself in a costume like that before the Treasurer of the Cecil’s Mutual Help Society, you look as if you hadn’t been to bed all night, and then had got up too early, if such a thing is possible.’

‘It vos alright perhaps that I must be given nineteen pounds by Mr. Fatty from the moneys of the lately formed-and-much-to-be-commended-by-needy-gentlemens-’Elp-Clubs,’ he remarked in one breath.

‘Once more!’ shrieked Squiff ecstatically.

‘I vos not repeading,’ replied von Graussman with dignity, ‘in der worts of Bilate vot I vos say I had shpoken.’

‘What Pilate really said—’ began Squiff, when Fatty who had sunk into a sort of reverie, suddenly awoke and thumped on the table vigorously. ‘The valuable time of the Treasurer is being frittered away,’ he remarked solemnly. ‘The case of the O’Rossa is under consideration. He has explained his need for twenty pounds; the only remaining formality is the pledging of his word. When he has done that I will hand over the cheque.’ Squiff, who had been speaking to von Graussman, hurriedly pledged his word and left to catch the 12.10 to town, while von Graussman proceeded to pour into Fatty’s ears a long and disconnected tale in which the words, ‘Boliceman,’ ‘damnable,’ ‘fraulein,’ and ‘gompensations,’ appeared frequently, so Fatty gathered that it had some reference to an escapade in town during the week before term. However, as von Graussman was prepared to swear to the urgency of the circumstances, he saw no reason why he should not advance the amount, but discovered to his horror that there were only fifteen pounds left. He explained this to the German, who replied that ‘he could sew der matters up mit so much,’ and went off with the Club’s last money. Fatty, who saw in this a speedy ending to the worries of a Treasurership, contentedly entered the amounts in his book, and then took a cab to his History Lecture at James’.

It was only when Freddy casually applied for two pounds to pay Foundry deceased—on account—that he discovered that the end of the money did not imply the end of his troubles.

‘You lent twenty pounds to Squiff,’ screamed Freddy; ‘why, you know he’s overdrawn his next month’s allowance and pawned his dressing case.’

‘I didn’t know,’ replied Fatty placidly, ‘besides, it seems to me that those are the very circumstances in which the Club becomes useful and even necessary.’

‘Yes, but,’ retorted Freddy, ‘he won’t be able to pay it back for weeks, and I know I shall want to borrow next week.’

‘Come early and leave early,’ remarked the Treasurer irritatingly. ‘If you’d come at half-past ten when the office opens you might have got something. As it is you must wait till some one pays in.’

‘Anyhow,’ remarked Freddy, ‘by rule six you must call a meeting and announce that all funds are exhausted, and I don’t envy you the job, as I know Martha was coming round to borrow in the morning, and Reggie is sure to be hard up as well.’

The meeting fulfilled the expectation of Freddy; it was stormy on the part of Reggie and myself, placid on Fatty’s, and calmly indifferent on the part of the original borrowers. Freddy demanded a further subscription which Squiff and von Graussman opposed. Eventually we arranged a compromise by which everybody was to pay in three pounds within three days, and the meeting broke up. For the next few days events progressed quietly until another meeting was suddenly summoned to report that Reggie and I having borrowed a tenner each, and Fatty himself—by permission—the remaining four pounds, funds were again exhausted, and as the time for repayment had not nearly expired we were once more at a standstill. Eventually a motion was passed by six to two, Squiff and von Graussman dissenting, that the time for repayment of the original loans should expire on the following Saturday. This caused great perturbation among the borrowers, but by the help of an overdraft at the bank von Graussman scraped up the money, and Accrington paid in his five pounds without any difficulty. The real blow to our Club fell upon us on the Sunday when the third meeting within three weeks was called to announce the absence of funds: this positively staggered us, but we had not counted on Squiff’s presence of mind. On the day before, which was fixed for paying in, he had given Fatty his cheque for twenty pounds, and had immediately afterwards drawn out the available twenty pounds—paid in by von Graussman and Accrington—on the plea of Urgent Necessity, which we discovered to be the paying of the overdraft which he knew he must have at his bank, but as the overdraft turned out to his great surprise to be some forty pounds, of course they would not cash his last cheque, and the funds of the Club shrank to a worthless cheque for twenty pounds: this last manoeuvre gave Squiff, as Freddy foolishly pointed out to him, another six weeks in which to pay off his debt to the Club, and a proposal to make all loans repayable in three days was lost by one vote. The numbers were equal, all who had borrowed voting against, and all who were free of debt, for the proposal. However, as Fatty had the casting vote, and owed the Club four pounds, the motion was lost. Our attempts to find a method of putting the Society on its legs again failed, and we agreed that we must bury it in the depths of forgetfulness.

As a gallant attempt to find a solution to a most pressing question it was very praiseworthy, but as a working institution it was a regular fiasco. Fatty explained his subsequent failure in Divvers as the result of having to settle up the somewhat confused accounts of the defunct Club; myself, I attribute it to the fact that he defined Lydia—the purple seller of Thyatira—as ‘a province in Asia Minor.’

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