But Willoughby would as soon have given up a week of the summer holiday as have gone without the captain's speech.
As he rose to his feet deafening cries of "Well run, sir; well run!" drowned any effort he could have made at speaking; and he had to stand till, by dint of sheer threats of violence, the monitors had reduced the company to order.

Then he said, cheers interrupting him at every third word, "I'm much obliged to the doctor for speaking so kindly about me.
You fellows know the old school will get on very well after I've gone.
(No! no!) Willoughby always does get on, and any one who says, `No! no!' ought to know better." The applause at this point was overpowering; and the few guilty ones tried hard, by joining in it, to cover their shame.
"I've had a jolly time here, and am proud of being a Willoughby captain.
I shouldn't be a bit proud if I didn't think it was the finest school going.

And the reason it's the finest school is because the fellows think first of the school and next of themselves.

As long as they do that Willoughby will be what she is now.

Thank you, doctor, and you, fellows." These were the last words of the old captain.