Turkey elbowed into a cohort of scuffling fags, cut out Thornton tertius (he that had been Harland's bosom friend), and bade him tell his tale.
It was a simple one, interrupted by tears. Many of King's house trod already battered him for libel.
"Oh, it's nothing," McTurk cried. "He says that King's house stinks. That's all.""Stale!" Stalky shouted. "We knew that years ago, only we didn't choose to run about shoutin' 'stinker.' We've got some manners, ir they haven't. Catch a fag, Turkey, and make sure of it."Turkey's long arm closed on a hurried and anxious ornament of the Lower Second.
"Oh, McTurk, please let me go. I don't stink--I swear I don't!""Guilty conscience!" cried Beetle. "Who said you did?""What d'you make of it?" Stalky punted the small boy into Beetle's arms.
"Snf! Snf! He does, though. I think it's leprosy--or thrush. P'raps it's both. Take it away.""Indeed, Master Beetle"--King generally came to the house-door for a minute or two as the bell rang--" we are vastly indebted to you for your diagnosis, which seems to reflect almost as much credit on the natural unwholesomeness of your mind as it does upon your pitiful ignorance of the diseases of which you discourse so glibly. We will, however, test your knowledge in other directions."That was a merry lesson, but, in his haste to scarify Beetle, King clean neglected to give him an imposition, and since at the same time he supplied him with many priceless adjectives for later use, Beetle was well content, and applied himself most seriously throughout third lesson (algebra with little Hartopp) to composing a poem entitled "The Lazar-house."After dinner King took his house to bathe in the sea off the Pebbleridge. It was an old promise; but he wished he could have evaded it, for all Prout's lined up by the Fives Court and cheered with intention. In his absence not less than half the school invaded the infected dormitory to draw their own conclusions. The cat had gained in the last twelve hours, but a battlefield of the fifth day could not have been so flamboyant as the spies reported.
"My word, she _is_ doin' herself proud," said Stalky. "Did you ever smell anything like it? Ah, an' she isn't under White's dormitory at all yet.""But she will be. Give her time," said Beetle. "She'll twine like a giddy honeysuckle. What howlin' Lazarites they are! No house is justified in makin' itself a stench in the nostrils of decent--""High-minded, pure-souled boys. Do you burn with remorse and regret?" said McTurk, as they hastened to meet the house coming up from the sea. King had deserted it, so speech was unfettered. Round its front played a crowd of skirmishers--all houses mixed--flying, reforming, shrieking insults. On its tortured flanks marched the Hoplites, seniors hurling jests one after another--simple and primitive jests of the Stone Age. To these the three added themselves, dispassionately, with an air of aloofness, almost sadly.
"And they look all right, too," said Stalky. "It can't be Rattray, can it? Rattray?"No answer.
"Rattray, dear? He seems stuffy about something or other. Look here, old man, we don't bear any malice about your sending that soap to us last week, do we? Be cheerful, Rat. You can live this down all right. I dare say it's only a few fags.
Your house is so beastly slack, though."
"You aren't going back to the house, are you?" said McTurk. The victims desired nothing better. "You've simply no conception of the reek up there. Of course, frowzin' as you do, you wouldn't notice it; but, after this nice wash and the clean, fresh air, even you'd be upset. 'Much better camp on the Burrows. We'll get you some straw. Shall we"?" The house hurried in to the tune of "John Brown's body," sung by loving schoolmates, and barricaded themselves in their form-room. Straightway Stalky chalked a large cross, with "Lord, have mercy upon us," on the door, and left King to find it.
The wind shifted that night and wafted a carrion-reek into Macrea's dormitories; so that boys in nightgowns pounded on the locked door between the houses, entreating King's to wash. Number Five study went to second lesson with not more than half a pound of camphor apiece in their clothing; and King, too wary to ask for explanations, gibbered a while and hurled them forth. So Beetle finished yet another poem at peace in the study.
"They're usin' carbolic now. Malpas told me," said Stalky. "King thinks it's the drains.""She'll need a lot o' carbolic," said McTurk. "No harm tryin', I suppose. It keeps King out of mischief.""I swear I thought he was goin' to kill me when I sniffed just now. He didn't mind Burton major sniffin' at me the other day, though. He never stopped Alexander howlin' 'Stinker!' into our form-room before--before we doctored 'em. He just grinned," said Stalky. "What was he frothing over you for, Beetle?""Aha! That, was my subtle jape. I had him on toast. You know he always jaws about the learned Lipsius.""'Who at the age of four'--that chap?" said McTurk.
"Yes. Whenever he hears I've written a poem. Well, just as I was sittin' down, Iwhispered, 'How is our learned Lepsius?' to Burton major. Old Butt grinned like an owl. _He_ didn't know what I was drivin' at; but King jolly well did. That was really why he hove us out. Ain't you grateful? Now shut up. I'm goin' to write the 'Ballad of the Learned Lipsius.'""Keep clear of anything coarse, then," said Stalky. "I shouldn't like to be coarse on this happy occasion.""Not for wo-orlds. What rhymes to 'stenches,' someone?"In Common-room at lunch King discoursed acridly to Prout of boys with prurient minds, who perverted their few and baleful talents to sap discipline and corrupt their equals, to deal in foul imagery and destroy reverence.
