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Updated: June 10, 2025
The wretched youth flew off to proclaim his sorrows to his confederates, and vow vengeance all over Tadpole and Guinea-pig-land against his tormentor and the new boy, who was the author of all his humiliation. Pembury meanwhile returned to Stephen.
"And Pembury shall kill me," squealed the last comer, who had comforted himself with several crusts of plum-cakes and the dregs of about a dozen bottles of ginger-beer. And every one protested their willingness to die in the good cause. At this stage Oliver and Wraysford withdrew unobserved. "I'm afraid we've been eavesdropping," said Oliver.
"Yes, who did take the paper? that's it. Greenfield must have done it. Why, he as good as admitted it last term." "Well, then, it's very queer those fellows making up to him," said Ricketts. "It's no use our trying to send the fellow to Coventry when the others don't back us up." "Wraysford always was daft about Greenfield," said Tom Senior, "but I am astonished at Pembury and Bullinger."
Signed, A. Pembury, H. Wraysford, T. Bullinger." The effect of this manifesto was curious. Pembury himself had been unable to prophesy how it would be taken. The boys in front of the board, as they heard it read out, couldn't tell exactly whether to laugh or be serious over the paragraph.
Bravo, Fifth!" was the cry as Oliver, following up the first ball of the over, pilfered a bye from the long-stop. "Didn't I tell you!" exclaimed Pembury, delighted; "he'll save us; he's got down to that end on purpose to take the bowling. Do you twig, Loamy? And he'll stick to that end till the last ball of the over, and then he'll run an odd number, and get up to the other end.
In the midst of their orgies, Wraysford and Pembury passed the door, and stopped to look in, wondering what on earth the tumult was about. But they were greeted with such a storm of yells and hisses that they passed on, a little uneasy in their minds as to whether or no hydrophobia had broken out in Saint Dominic's.
"All serene; we'll be there, won't we, Wray? Not the first Guinea-pig kick-up we've been witness to, either." "Do you think Pembury will come?" asked Stephen, nervously. "Oh, rather. He'll have to report it in the next Dominican. I'll see he comes." "Oh, I think he needn't mind," said Stephen, with a queer shyness; "I could write out a report for him."
For as he opened the study-door he saw Pembury just outside, leaning against the wall with his eyes on the clock as it struck ten. As he caught sight of Stephen emerging from the head master's study, his countenance fell, and he said eagerly and half-anxiously, "Didn't I tell you ten o'clock, Greenfield?" "Yes, but the Doctor said half-past nine.
I'd look me down on Dominic's, and think of the days when I was young, Or would I was an infant meek all sucking of my thumb. Again Simon, who had watched with intense interest the reception of his poem, was perplexed to notice the amusement it had caused. Even Pembury Had mistaken its "inmost soul," for he had placed it in the column devoted to "Facetiae."
Away, away, down empty street, over rumbling bridge and so, bearing to the left, on and up the long hill of Pembury. Gradually the rain ceased, the wind died utterly away, the stars peeped out again. And now, upon the quiet, came the small, soft sound of trickling water, while the air was fragrant with a thousand sweet scents and warm, moist, earthy smells.
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