that was the Epistle to King—so it was. We-ell, Foxy?' Stalky put his chin on his hands and regarded the victim with deep delight.
'Ti-ra-la-la-i-tu! I gloat! Hear me!' said M'Turk. 'Foxy brought us tea when we were moral lepers. Foxy has a heart. Foxy has been in the Army, too,'
'I wish I'd ha' had you in my company, young gentlemen,' said the Sergeant from the depths of his heart; 'I'd ha' given you something.'
'Silence at drum-head court-martial,' M'Turk went on. 'I'm advocate for the prisoner; and, besides, this is much too good to tell all the other brutes in the Coll. They'd never understand. They play cricket, and say, "Yes, sir," and "Oh, sir," and "No, sir"
'Never mind that. Go ahead,' said Stalky.
'Well, Foxy's a good little chap when he does not esteem himself so as to be clever.'
'"Take not out your 'ounds on a werry windy day,"' Stalky struck in. 'I don't care if you let him off.'
'Nor me,' said Beetle. 'Heffy is my only joy—Heffy and King.'
'I 'ad to do it,' said the Sergeant plaintively.
'Right O! Led away by bad companions in the execution of his duty, or—or words to that effect. You're dismissed with a reprimand, Foxy. We won't tell about you. I swear we won't,' M'Turk concluded. 'Bad for the discipline of the school. Horrid bad.'
'Well,' said the Sergeant, gathering up the tea-things, 'knowin' what I know o' the young
