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This time it was Callonby. "Where's young Raddleston? What are you young beggars up to? is Raddleston here?" "Yes," mildly answered the voice of Master Raddleston, who a moment ago had nearly broken a blood-vessel in his endeavours to scream in a whisper. "Come here, then." The fag meekly obeyed.
Of course you can't expect to be perfect all at once, but if you always copy off Raddleston, do you see, you'll never get on at all." "I'll try, sir," said Stephen, meaning what he said. "I know you will, my boy. It's not easy work to begin with, but it's easier far in the long run. Try, and if you have difficulties, as you are sure to have, come to me.
"Not a bit of it," replied Paul. "The Fifth are safe to win, I tell you." "But they've got no decent bowlers," said Raddleston. "Never mind," said Stephen. "Loman's not going to play for the Sixth. He's sprained his wrist." "Hip, hip, hurrah?" yelled Paul, "that is jolly! They are sure to be licked now. Are you sure he's out of it?" "Yes. Look at him there with his arm in a sling."
Stephen stared at his master, and the master looked very pleasantly at Stephen. "I copied it off Raddleston," said the boy, in a trembling voice, and mentally resigning himself to his fate. "Ah!" said Mr Rastle, laughing; "it's a funny thing, now, Greenfield, I knew that myself. No two boys could possibly have translated `nobody' into `nullus corpus' without making common cause!"
Stephen was desperately perplexed. He had expected a regular row on the head of his confession, and here was his master cracking jokes about the affair! "I'm very sorry I did it. I won't do it again," said he. "That's right, my boy; Raddleston isn't infallible. Much better do it yourself. I venture to say, now, you can tell me what the Latin for `nobody' is without a dictionary."
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