mitories, devoid of inner doors, were crossed at all hours of the night by masters visiting one another; for bachelors sit up later than married folk. Beetle had never dreamed that there might be a purpose in this steady policing.
'Talking about bullying,' the Reverend John resumed, 'you all caught it pretty hot when you were fags, didn't you?'
'Well, we must have been rather awful little beasts,' said Beetle, looking serenely over the gulf between eleven and sixteen. 'My Hat, what bullies they were then—Fairburn, "Gobby" Maunsell, and all that gang!'
' 'Member when "Gobby" called us the Three Blind Mice, and we had to get up on the lockers and sing while he buzzed inkpots at us?' said Stalky. 'They were bullies if you like!'
'But there isn't any of it now,' said M'Turk soothingly.
'That's where you make a mistake. We're all inclined to say that everything is all right as long as we ourselves aren't hurt. I sometimes wonder if it is extinct—bullying.'
'Fags bully each other horrid; but the upper forms are supposed to be swottin' for exams. They've got something else to think about,' said Beetle.
'Why? What do you think?' Stalky was watching the chaplain's face.
'I have my doubts.' Then, explosively, 'On my word, for three moderately intelligent boys you aren't very observant. I suppose you were too busy making things warm for your house-
