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"And they do say," the Chancellor went on sheepishly looking much more like a convicted thief than an Officer of State, "that a change of Government, by the abolition of the Sub-Warden -I mean," he hastily added, on seeing the Warden's look of astonishment, "the abolition of the office of Sub-Warden, and giving the present holder the right to act as Vice-Warden whenever the Warden is absent would appease all this seedling discontent I mean," he added, glancing at a paper he held in his hand, "all this seething discontent!"
All this time the Sub-Warden was busy, with the Chancellor's help, shifting the papers from side to side, and pointing out to the Warden the place whew he was to sign. He then signed it himself, and my Lady and the Chancellor added their names as witnesses. "Short partings are best," said the Warden. "All is ready for my journey.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "The storm seems to have passed." There was a murmur of "Yes, Warden." "And how did our boat acquit itself?" There was a shuffling pause. Every one looked at the Sub-Warden: it was manifestly for him to break the news, or to report the hallucination. He was nudged forward a large man, with a large beard at which he plucked nervously.
Uggug's triumph was a very short one: the Sub-Warden had returned, just in time to be a witness of his dear child's playfulness, and in another moment a skilfully-applied box on the ear had changed the grin of delight into a howl of pain. "My darling!" cried his mother, enfolding him in her fat arms. "Did they box his ears for nothing? A precious pet!"
At this moment the door, very slowly and creakingly, began to open, and Sylvie and Bruno jumped up, and ran to meet the well-known footstep. "It's my brother!" the Sub-warden exclaimed, in a warning whisper. "Speak out, and be quick about it!"
A'Dale, who was a well-practised London lad, and knew its ways thoroughly, whispered to Ernst to produce only one of his coins at a time, being very sure that the sub-warden would otherwise not grant them any favour until he had possessed himself of the greater number. Ernst accordingly at once placed a couple of marks in the warden's hands.
"Lord have mercy on us," muttered Moon, making a backward movement as men do when a gun goes off. "Hi am the Sub-Warden of Brikespeare College, Cambridge," proclaimed the uncompromising Moses, "and I can endorse the description you gave of the un'appy Smith.
Why, you're a born orator, man!" "Oh, that's nothing! the Chancellor replied, modestly, with downcast eyes. "Most orators are born, you know." The Sub-Warden thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Why, so they are!" he admitted. "I never considered it in that light. Still, you did it very well. A word in your ear!"
He must be able to spring from the floor to about twice his own height, gradually turning over as he rises, so as to come down again head first." "Why, you need a flea, not a man!" exclaimed the Sub-Warden. "Pardon me," said the Professor. "This particular kind of bath is not adapted for a flea.
"It's some hyaena or other," replied the Sub-Warden, looking vaguely up to the ceiling, as if that was where they usually were to be found. "Let us to business, my dear. Here comes the Warden."
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