The Story of Baden-Powell / 'The Wolf That Never Sleeps'

Baden-Powell as a boy was delightful. A grin always hovered about his face, and the Spirit of Fun herself looked out of his sharp, brown eyes. He was for ever making "the other chaps" roar; keeping a football field on the giggle; sending a concert-audience into fits. But he was just the sort of schoolboy of whom there would be no incidents to record. Men who knew him and lived with him in those days remember him, perhaps, more distinctly than any other boy of their time, and at the merest mention of his name their eyes twinkle with delight. "Oh, old Bathing Towel. George! what a funny beggar he was. Remember him? I should think I did. Stories about him? Well, I don't remember any just now, but dear old Bathing Towel——!" and off they go into another roar of laughter. All they can tell you is how he used to act and recite, and play all manner of musical instruments, or, if you drag them away from the stage, how he used to rend the air with his terrible war-whoop at the critical moment in a football match.

But although this is how it strikes a contemporary, Baden-Powell was in deadly earnest when it was a matter of books and ink-pots. He might be the funny man of the school, but he was also one of the most brilliant. He gave his masters the impression of a boy who really delighted in getting on; who was really keen about mastering a difficult subject. His vivacity and freshness, his energy and vigour, helped him to take pleasure in work which to another boy, less physically blessed, would have been an irksome toil; but though his body may have projected him some distance upon his way, it was his soul that really carried him triumphantly through. The spirit of Baden-Powell in those days was what it is now—supremely intent upon beating down obstacles in his path, and resolute to do well whatever the moment's duty might be. So the boy who was setting a football field on the roar at one moment, at the next would be sitting with fixed eyes and knit brows, "hashing" at Latin verses, as serious as a leader-writer hurling his bolts at the European Powers.

The master who best remembers B.-P. is Mr. Girdlestone, in whose house our hero spent four years of his school-days. Looking back over the past Mr. Girdlestone finds that what impressed him most in B.-P. during his school-days was the boy's manner with his elders. He was reserved, very reserved, and he never had any one close chum at school; but apparently he was quite free of shyness, as he would approach his masters without any trace of that timidity which too often marks the commerce of boy with master. On an afternoon's walk, for instance, B.-P. would not be found among the boys, but side by side deep in conversation with his master. And these conversations, I find, convinced his gubernators that he was very much above the average cut of boy in intelligence; not (Heaven forbid!) that he made parade of his little knowledge, but rather that he was eager to get information in really useful subjects from his superiors, and not above boldly declaring his eagerness. In those days Dr. Haig-Brown had a great reputation for sternness, and it is said that even the masters would sometimes quail when they entered his presence; but B.-P. was perfectly at his ease and entirely self-possessed even in approaching the presence of the great Doctor. He was never bashful in addressing a master on new schemes for the benefit of the school, and it was solely owing to his application to Mr. Girdlestone that Charterhouse first started its string orchestra, which is now one of the best boys' bands in the kingdom. Music, it seems, was one of his chief delights at school, he played the violin really well; but while he loved that king of instruments, he would stoop to baser, and oft delight his contemporaries, holding them entranced, by spirited performances on the mouth organ and the ocarina.

With no close friend Baden-Powell was a boy without an enemy, and his popularity may be seen in many ways. Although, for instance, he was not successful in athletics, he was a regular member of the Sports Committee, and worked with intense enthusiasm for the success of Sports-Day. And, another instance; as a memento of their favourite, the butler of B.-P.'s house and his wife saved a part of the dress he wore in his last theatrical performance. When the news came of the relief of Ladysmith this garment was drawn forth from the back of a drawer and used as a flag of rejoicing, and as I write it is being jealously guarded to be hung out from the school windows when the little boy who wore it is delivered from his glorious prison of Mafeking.