said Darbishire.
'And where can we get the money? I've spent all my money on another film for the camera. How much do you have?'
'One-and-fourpence. We can pay the bus fares but we won't have any money when we get to town.'
'We'll think of something!' said Jennings. 'Let's look at the poems and best handwriting. Maybe they are so bad that we shan't have to give any prizes.'
There were six envelopes. Darbishire took the sheets of paper out of the envelopes and dropped the envelopes in the waste-paper basket. To his surprise all six were poems.
'Nobody has sent in his best handwriting,' he said.
'Well, that's a good thing,' said Jennings. 'It means that we need only one cake.'
'But where shall we get this one cake?'
'Let's not think about that now. Let's see whether the poems are good or not.'
The boys began to read the poems and did not like them. All the five poems that they had in front of them on their desk were very poor.
'That only leaves one more. And I hope it's poor too,' said Jennings.
Darbishire looked at the handwriting on the last sheet of paper and said: 'This one is Venables'. Listen!'
'Break, break, break,
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me!
O well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!'
'That's not bad, is it!' said Jennings. 'Who did you say wrote it?'
'Venables.'
'Don't be funny. Venables couldn't write that.'
'I'm sure it's Venables' handwriting. But wait a minute. It's only half of a poem.'
'It's quite enough. His poem is certainly a lot better than others,' said Jennings.
'We'll have to give him a prize, if we can't find that something is wrong with it,' said Darbishire.
'There must be something wrong with it.' Jennings looked at the sheet of paper. 'Look, Darbi. I don't think it is very good when he repeats all the time 'O well'. He says, 'O well for the fisherman's boy' and 'O well for the sailor lad.' People don't say that, do they?'
'Maybe he couldn't think of anything better. But we can't disqualify him for it, can we?'
'No, we can't. we must think of something else for a prize. Oh well, let's think..'
'There you are,' said Darbishire quickly. 'You've said it.'
'Said what?'
''Oh well.' You said people didn't say that.'
At that moment the dormitory bell rang and the boys went to bed.
Chapter Eleven
How to get a big cake
When Jennings and Darbishire were takings off their clothes in the dormitory that evenings, the boy who took part in the competitions came up to them.
'Have you already read those poems?' asked Bromwich.
'Yes, there was only one good poem,' answered Jennings.
'Mine?' asked Bromwich.
'No. Yours went into the waste-paper basket.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Bromwich. 'I've spent a lot of time on that poem.'
'And mine?' asked Temple.
'Yours was very poor, too,' said Jennings. 'I don't want to tell you who is the winner, because it's still a secret, but if you keep it I'll tell you that Venables' poem is the best.'
'Good old Venables!' cried Temple.
'Hey, Venables, you've taken the first prize in the wall-newspaper competition!' cried Atkinson.
Venables was washing his face at the washbasin. He turned his head.
'Have I?' he exclaimed. He quickly dried his face on the towel and came up to Darbishire and Jennings.
'When shall I get the cake?' asked Venables.
Jennings began to take off his shoes. He 'did not hear' the question.
'When shall I get the cake?' Venables repeated.
'You see,' said Jennings. 'We don't have the cakes yet.'
'What!' exclaimed Venables. 'But you've promised it!'
'Yes, you've promised a big cake. And there must be a big cake,' said Atkinson.
'If I don't get my prize, I'll...'
'All right, all right! Don't get angry. You'll get your prize,' said Jennings.
'The big cake?' asked Venables.
'No, something ten times better.'
'Ten times better? What?'
'It's a secret. You will know tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll like it.'
At that moment Jennings did not know anything about the prize himself. But what could he say? There was no other way open to him.
When all the boys went to their beds Darbishire said to Jennings:
'It's a good thing you've thought of something, Jen. What is it?'
'I don't know yet.'
'But you said...you said we could give him something ten times better than a big cake. What shall we give him?.. Can't we sell something and buy something else for the money?'
'I'm not going to say good-bye to my camera or my printing set, thank you very much.'
'No, I mean some old thing that costs a lot because it's old. You'll be surprised to know how much old things sometimes cost. My father knows a man who has a book which was published at the time of Julius Caesar, and he says it costs a hundred pounds.'
'Who says - Julius Caesar?'
'No, you silly! My father says. It's a rare first edition, you see.'
'But I don't have anything that was published at the time of Julius Caesar. Maybe my Latin textbook.'
'Oh, no. I'm talking about some first editions that people buy when they are a hundred years old.'
'I don't think my Latin textbook is younger than a hundred,' Jennings said with a smile. 'And I remember the words 'first edition' on the first page of the book. There are only two books in school like it - Venables' and mine. All the other boys have much newer books.'
'Don't be silly, Jennings! You are not going to tell me that your Latin book is valuable.'
Jennings decided to see for himself. There were still some minutes before the lights were put out. He got out of bed, hurried out of the dormitory, went to his desk in the classroom and found the book. He opened it and read: A First Latin Grammar by A. Grimshaw. First Edition MCMLXII (1962).
Jennings tried to translate Roman numerals. 'That must be... Yes, of course: 1852!'
He took the book and hurried out of the classroom. 'First I must find out if the book is valuable,' he thought
