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Updated: June 29, 2025
E. Taylor, doubtfully; "but, in any case, will you take down the present list, and draw up a fresh one if you think one at all necessary with only the names of subscribers upon it? A house list should not have been used at all. Please tell Cotton I said so, and I hope he will see the fairness of it." Philips took down the offending list, and told Cotton the house-master's opinions. BOURNE v.
Thanks in large part to their house-master's experienced distrust, the three for three consecutive terms had been passed over for promotion to the rank of prefect an office that went by merit, and carried with it the honor of the ground-ash, and liberty, under restrictions, to use it.
The thing seemed to be worrying Mr. Wain. "So I came down, sir," said Mike. The house-master's giant brain still appeared to be somewhat clouded. He looked about him, and, catching sight of the gramophone, drew inspiration from it. "Did you turn on the gramophone?" he asked. "Me, sir!" said Mike, with the air of a bishop accused of contributing to the Police News.
"In fact, you have had more than your share, with the consequence that Grace gets less than hers." He knitted his brows as he indicated the house-master's curt letter. "Then, you have given a stranger an opportunity for writing to me like this." Gerald, knowing his father's humor, saw he was getting on dangerous ground. "Brown's a dry old prig, sir.
"Well, hold on, till King loses his temper," said Beetle. "He's a libelous old rip, an' he'll be in a ravin' paddy-wack. Prout's too beastly cautious. Keep your eye on King, and, if he gives us a chance, appeal to the Head. That always makes 'em sick." They were summoned to their house-master's study, King and Foxy supporting Prout, and Foxy had three canes under his arm.
"If the Head chooses to put a notice in the corridor forbiddin' marbles, I can do something; but I can't move on a house-master's report. He knows that as well as I do." The sense of this oracle Beetle conveyed, all unsweetened, to King, who hastened to interview Flint.
Lovell senior repeated the house-master's question "How are you, old chap?" But, in his anxiety to convey a warning, he came too near, obscuring Rutford's massive figure. Scaife groaned again, putting his hand to his head. "How am I?" he repeated thickly. "Why, why, I'm jolly well screwed, Lovell; that's how I am! Jolly well screwed hay? Ugh! how screwed I am. Ugh!"
Fillet went his way, and I came down from my railing, combating the sickening certainty that I had made a fool of myself, and determining to believe in the splendour of my attitude and to carry it through to victory. Carry on, Rupert, carry on. Onward, Christian soldiers. I sauntered over to Bramhall House and climbed the stairs to the house-master's study.
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