tinct from bottled gases, which lasted till the bell rang. Then Beetle, concertinaing his books, observed to Winton, 'When King's really on tap he's an interestin' dog. Hartopp's chlorine uncorked him.'
'Yes; but why did you tell me delubris was "deluges," you silly ass?' said Winton.
'Well, that uncorked him too. Look out, you hoof-handed old owl!' Winton had cleared for action as the Form poured out like puppies at play and was scragging Beetle. Stalky from behind collared Winton low. The three fell in confusion.
'Dis te minorem quod geris imperas.' quoth Stalky, ruffling Winton's lint-white locks. ''Mustn't jape with Number Five study. Don't be too virtuous. Don't brood over it. 'Twon't count against you in your future caree-ah. Cheer up, Pater.'
'Pull him off my—er—essential guts, will you?' said Beetle from beneath. 'He's squashin' 'em.'
They dispersed to their studies.
······
No one, the owner least of all, can explain what is in a growing boy's mind. It might have been the blind ferment of adolescence, Stalky's random remarks about virtue might have stirred him; like his betters he might have sought popularity by way of clowning; or, as the Head asserted years later, the only known jest of his serious life might have worked on him, as a sober-sided man's one love colours and dislocates all his after days. But, at the next lesson, mechanical drawing with Mr. Lidgett who as drawing-master had very limited
