THE SIXTH FORM SUPPER 1926

The fifth annual Sixth Form Supper (for such is the name that has been officially bestowed upon it) was held on Decem-ber 17th, and a record crowd of " Bustuppians" attended.
The repast took place in the usual Banqueting Hall, and the shabby respectability of that home of sciences must have been rudely shocked at the nature of the fare-so poetic, so pleasing, but so indigestible!
Everybody seemed determined that the Headmaster should have no cause to repeat his lament of last year as to the amount of unappropriated food, and Modern Language Masters, using that discriminating eye with which they pounce on errors of grammar, made particularly avaricious swoops on the jelly.
The liveliest table was that reserved for gentlemen of the universities and other distinguished persons, all of whom managed to combine feverish mastication with the most continuous and hilarious conversation. They did not, how-ever, take their pleasures selfishly. When they had consumed a full quota of viands, and had disposed of all the available sugar (either in their coffee or between their neighbours' necks and collar-studs), and when their gastronomic exertions would apparently permit of no further loquacity on their own part, they proceeded to encourage other people to talk. They demanded a speech. They demanded it several times-very emphatically. Holdsworth spoke. They demanded more speech. The Headmaster spoke. Then they wanted Mr. King. Mr. King spoke. Even that was not enough. They wanted Mr. Cowley, and finally Mr. Cowley spoke. "That year always was a noisy lot, "remarked a Science Master, a rather hasty generalisation, since "the lot" in question represented every year since 1922.
Holdsworth, the School Captain, extended the welcome of the present Sixth to its august predecessors and its still more august supervisors, cordially greeted Messrs. King and Cowley, two founder-members of the "Ancient Order of Bustuppians," and then with befitting flourish initiated two new members, Messrs. Hookham and Samuel. He declared that the occasion was very solemn (cries of "very!"), as it was probably the last time they would eat within those hallowed precincts. No more would they drain the flowing cup amid those irrepressible rheostats (laughter), for the School was moving from its antique cottage to a brand new council house (renewed laughter). He reminded the assembly of their duty to subscribe to the "Monovian," for the excellence of which he could vouch, as he had read all three numbers several times himself (more laughter), and closed by expressing the hope that they would all meet again next year in the new building.
The Headmaster expressed his pleasure at the sight of so large an assembly, and mentioned the difficulty which head-masters experience in recognising their old pupils, on account of the remarkable similarity of those sides of boyhood very often presented to a headmaster (reminiscent laughter). He urged all present to join the new Old Monovians' Association, and hoped that they would all take part in the opening of the new building.
The Headmaster was followed by Mr. King, our former Head, and Mr. Cowley. The latter, who had been given a tumultuous reception, gracefully declared that he was re-minded of the words of a once popular music-hall song, "I had a good home, and I left!", a sentiment which was greeted with thunderous applause.
The speeches finished, the company indulged in their usual "Bustuppian" antics in the Assembly Hall. Mr. Belchambers, L. A. Moules, and Fleetwood played the piano; A. A. ("Gussy") Smith gave violin solos; George Taylor sang humorously; Mr. King rendered his beloved Gilbert and Sullivan; and finally the Headmaster, for the benefit, as he said, of Mr. Rothery, sang of the Cumberland swain who was shy.
The evening closed with Auld Lang Syne and hearty cheers for the School and the present Sixth.
A,E,H., W.L.R.