He was as useless and ill at ease with cricket as with football, nor
in spite of all his efforts could he ever throw a ball or a stone.
It soon became plain, therefore, to everyone that Pontifex was a young
muff, a mollycoddle, not to be tortured, but still not to be rated
highly. He was not, however, actively unpopular, for it was seen
that he was quite square inter pares, not at all vindictive, easily
pleased, perfectly free with whatever little money he had, no
greater lover of his school work than of the games, and generally more
inclinable to moderate vice than to immoderate virtue.
These qualities will prevent any boy from sinking very low in the
opinion of his schoolfellows; but Ernest thought he had fallen lower
than he probably had, and hated and despised himself for what he, as
much as anyone else, believed to be his cowardice. He did not like the
boys whom he thought like himself. His heroes were strong and
vigorous, and the less they inclined towards him the more he
worshipped them. All this made him very unhappy, for it never occurred
to him that the instinct which made him keep out of games for which he
was ill adapted, was more reasonable than the reason which would
have driven him into them.
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