The Pothunters

The Pothunters
by P. G. Wodehouse

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It was at Aldershot—to be more exact, in the dressing-room of the Queen’s Avenue Gymnasium at Aldershot—that the conversation took place. From east and west, and north and south, from Dan even unto Beersheba, the representatives of the public schools had assembled to box, fence, and perform gymnastic prodigies for fame and silver medals.

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'You have been misinformed, I fear, Sir Alfred. I have not trespassed in your grounds for--ah--a considerable time.' The Head could not resist this thrust. In his unregenerate 'Varsity days he had been a power at the Union, where many a foeman had exposed himself to a verbal counter from him with disastrous results. Now the fencing must be done with buttons on the foils.

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