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"Mad! Quite mad!" said Stalky to the visitors, as one exhibiting strange beasts. "Beetle reads an ass called Brownin', and McTurk reads an ass called Ruskin; and " "Ruskin isn't an ass," said McTurk. "He's almost as good as the Opium Eater.

Heffy lurchin' into the form-rooms like a frowzy old retriever, to see if we aren't up to something. You know he never leaves his house alone, these days," said McTurk. "Oh, it will be giddy!" "Why aren't you down watchin' cricket? I like a robust, healthy boy. You mustn't frowst in a form-room. Why don't you take an interest in your house? Yah!" quoted Beetle. "Yes, why don't we? Let's!

They found Stalky's bed drawn out from the wall to the left of the dormer window, and the latter end of Richards protruding from a two-foot-square cupboard in the wall. "What's all this? I've never noticed it before. What are you tryin' to do, Fatty?" "Fillin' basins, Muster Corkran." Richards's voice was hollow and muffled. "They've been savin' me trouble. Yiss." "'Looks like it," said McTurk.

None of 'em have ever let me finish it. It gets just awful at the end part." "But why in the world didn't you explain to Mr. Prout, instead of leaving him under the impression ?" "Padre Sahib," said McTurk, "it isn't the least good explainin' to Mr. Prout. If he hasn't one impression, he's bound to have another." "He'd do it with the best o' motives. He's in loco parentis," purred Stalky.

Martin, in evening dress, was undeniably throaty a tall, generously designed, pink-and-white man. Still, Beetle need not have been coarse. "Look at his back while he's talkin' to the Head. Vile bad form to turn your back on the audience! He's a Philistine a Bopper a Jebusite an' a Hivite." McTurk leaned back and sniffed contemptuously.

Sefton and Campbell entered to find Beetle on his side, his head against the fender, weeping copiously, while McTurk prodded him in the back with his toes. "It's only Beetle," Stalky explained. "He's shammin' hurt. I can't get Turkey to go for him properly." Sefton promptly kicked both boys, and his face lighted. "All right, I'll attend to 'em. Get up an' cock-fight, you two. Give me the stump.

Confer orationes Regis furiosissimi, when he collared me readin' 'Don Juan." "'Course he kissed her," said McTurk. "In the middle of the street. With his house-cap on!" "Time, 3.57 p.m. Make a note o' that. What d'you mean, Beetle?" said Stalky. "Well! He's a truthful little beast. He may say he was kissed." "And then?" "Why, then!" Beetle capered at the mere thought of it. "Don't you see?

He wriggled into position by Campbell's side. Swiftly and scientifically the stumps were thrust through the natural crooks, and the wrists tied with well-stretched box-ropes to an accompaniment of insults from McTurk, bound, betrayed, and voluble behind the chair. Stalky set away Campbell and Sefton, and strode over to his allies, locking the door on the way.

"Oh, no; but in the Coll. we must be pro-cadet-corps like anything. Can't you make up a giddy epigram, a' la Catullus, about King objectin' to it?" Beetle was at this noble task when Stalky returned all hot from his first drill. "Hullo, my ramrod-bunger!" began McTurk. "Where's your dead dog? Is it Defence or Defiance?" "Defiance," said Stalky, and leaped on him at that word.

"Well, you know, that little beast Manders minor saw Beetle and me hammerin' McTurk's trunk open in the dormitory when we took his watch last month. Of course Manders sneaked to Mason, and Mason solemnly took it up as a case of theft, to get even with us about the rats." "That just put Mason into our giddy hands," said McTurk, blandly.