During the pauses the bottled-beer corks fly rapidly, and the talk is fast and merry, and the big boys--at least all of them who have a fellow-feeling for dry throats--hand their mugs over their shoulders to be emptied by the small ones who stand round behind.
Then Warner, the head of the house, gets up and wants to speak; but he can't, for every boy knows what's coming.

And the big boys who sit at the tables pound them and cheer; and the small boys who stand behind pound one another, and cheer, and rush about the hall cheering.

Then silence being made, Warner reminds them of the old School-house custom of drinking the healths, on the first night of singing, of those who are going to leave at the end of the half.

"He sees that they know what he is going to say already" (loud cheers), "and so won't keep them, but only ask them to treat the toast as it deserves.

It is the head of the eleven, the head of big-side football, their leader on this glorious day--Pater Brooke!" And away goes the pounding and cheering again, becoming deafening when old Brooke gets on his legs; till, a table having broken down, and a gallon or so of beer been upset, and all throats getting dry, silence ensues, and the hero speaks, leaning his hands on the table, and bending a little forwards.