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Updated: September 2, 2025
"Yes, but don't you see that Stalky isn't here, you owl!" said McTurk. "Take down the key, and look sorrowful. King'll only jaw you for half an hour. I'm going to read in the lower form-room." "But it's always me," mourned Beetle. "Wait till we see," said McTurk, hopefully. "I don't know any more than you do what Stalky means, but it's something. Go down and draw King's fire. You're used to it."
The floor was one still, silent pool. Two caps and a few notebooks floated sluggishly on the surface, relieving the picture of any tendency to monotony. The form crept silently to their places along the desks. As Mr Smith's footsteps were heard approaching, they began to beat vigorously upon the desks, with the result that Mr Smith, quickening his pace, dashed into the form-room at a hard gallop.
"Well, I never thought it was a study-chap, anyhow. That accounts for our not spotting him," said Beetle. "Sefton and Campbell are rather hefty chaps to tackle. Besides, one can't go into their study like a form-room." "What swine!" McTurk listened. "Where's the fun of it? I suppose Clewer's faggin' for them." "They aren't prefects. That's one good job," said Stalky, with his war-grin.
He lowered the world's record for rapid dressing, and was just in time to accompany the tail of the procession into the form-room. "You were late again this morning," said Mr. Seymour, after dinner. "Yes, sir. I overslebbed myselb, sir," replied Chapple, who was suffering from a cold in the head. "Two hundred lines." "Yes, sir." Things had now become serious.
They had raged, solo and chorus, all through the peaceful Sabbath, for their sin was more or less the daily practice of all the studies. "What's the good of cursing?" said Stalky at last. "We're all in the same boat. We've got to go back and consort with the house. A locker in the form-room, and a seat at prep. in Number Twelve." "Yes!
"I say," said Willoughby, of the Lower Fifth, to Brown, the only other occupant of the form-room, "the old man did stop the holiday to-day, didn't he?" "Just what I was going to ask you," said Brown. "It's jolly rum. I distinctly remember him giving it out in hall that it was going to be stopped because of the O.W.'s day row." "So do I. I can't make it out. Where is everybody?"
'I like that, replied the outraged Danvers. 'How about you, then? It seemed to me you got rather left, too. Monk compromised. 'Well, anyhow, he said, 'we shan't get much out of that kid. 'Little beast, said Danvers complainingly. And they went on into their form-room in silence.
Claremont's form-room was situated just above him, and he could often hardly hear himself speak. He used to complain bitterly. "How I wish my jovial colleague down below would keep his form a little more in order." But Macdonald got his revenge one day when Claremont was reciting Macbeth's final speech fortissimo to his form. "Hush!" said Macdonald. "We must listen to this."
'Thanks, said King over his shoulder, for the Head's orders had saved Winton and Mullins, who was doing extra Army work in the study, from an embarrassing afternoon together. An hour later, King wandered into his still form-room as though by accident. Winton was hard at work. 'Aha! said King, rubbing his hands. 'This does not look like games, Winton. Don't let me arrest your facile pen.
"Shall we go in an' dissuade 'em?" McTurk asked. "I've never had much to do with 'em, but I'll bet my hat Campbell's a funk." "No o! That's oratio directa," said Stalky, shaking his head. "I like oratio obliqua. 'Sides, where'd our moral influence be then? Think o' that!" "Rot! What are you goin' to do?" Beetle turned into Lower Number Nine form-room, next door to the study. "Me?"
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