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Updated: May 17, 2025
It wouldn't do for the governors to see it; they'd be up to it. But they'd never see it after it was in, and the Rocket's just the paper for us." "I'll try and manage that," said Durfy. "You give it me, and I'll stick it in with a batch of others somehow."
Whatever it was, Mr Durfy kept his own counsel, and though Reginald looked up now and then and caught him scowling viciously in his direction, he made no attempt at hostilities, and rather appeared to ignore him altogether. Even when he was giving out the "copy" he sent Reginald his by a boy, instead of, as was usually his practice, calling him up to the table to receive it.
A fellow may be head of the fifth at a public school, and yet not know his letters in a printing- office, and after five or ten-minutes' hopeless endeavour to comprehend the geography of a typecase, he was obliged to acknowledge himself beaten and apprise Mr Durfy of the fact. "I'm sorry I misunderstood you," said he, putting the copy down on the table. "I'm not used to printing."
Not if I know it or if he does, you and he and your brother and your old fool of a mother " Mr Durfy never got to the end of that sentence. A blow straight from the shoulder of the Wilderham captain sent him sprawling on the pavement before the word was well out of his mouth. It had come now.
"Look here," said Mr Durfy, his tones getting lower as his passion rose; "if you think we're going to keep you here to give us any of your impudence you're mistaken; so I can tell you. It's bad enough to have a big fool put into the place for charity, without any of your nonsense. If I had my way I'd give you your beggarly eighteen shillings a week to keep you away. Go to your work."
Tom Durfy drew out Moriarty on the subject of his services, that the mock colonel might throw every new achievement into the shade; and this he did in the most barefaced manner, but mixing so much of probability with his audacious fiction, that those who were not up to the joke only supposed him to be a very great romancer; while those friends who were in Loftus' confidence exhibited a most capacious stomach for the marvellous, and backed up his lies with a ready credence.
"I believe I have the honour of addressing Mister Durfy, sir?" Tom answered in the affirmative. "Thomas Durfy, Esquire, I think, sir?" "Yes."
At the appointed hour a few of Tom's particular friends were in attendance to witness the ceremony, or, to use their own phrase, "to see him turned off," and among them was Tom Loftus. Dick was holding out his hand to "the colonel," when Tom Durfy stepped between, and introduced him under his real name.
Reginald walked through them to the passage outside, not much caring where he went or whom he met. If he were to meet Mr Barber, or Mr Durfy, or the manager himself, so much the better. As it happened, he met Horace, looking comparatively cheerful, with some papers in his hand. "Hullo, Reg," said he; "have they promoted you to a `printer's devil' too? Fancy what Bland would say if he saw us!
"Do you hear?" said Reginald, almost shouting the words. "I'm not going to please you. I shall go to please myself. I give you notice, and thank Heaven I've done with you." Durfy looked up with a laugh. "Go and make that noise outside," he said. "We can do without you here. Gedge, my man, put those cases beside you back into the rack, and go and tell the porter he's wanted."
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