Stalky & Co. by Rudyard Kipling (young adult books to read .txt) đ
- Author: Rudyard Kipling
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âNow,â said Stalky at bedtime, making pilgrimage through the dormitories before the prefects came by, ânow what have you got to say for yourselves? Foster, Carton, Finch, Longbridge, Marlin, Brett! I heard you chaps catchinâ it from Kingâhe made hay of youâanâ all you could do was to wriggle anâ grin anâ say, âYes, sir,â anâ âNo, sir,â anâ âO, sir,â anâ âPlease, sirâ! You anâ your resolution! Urh!â
âOh, shut up, Stalky.â
âNot a bit of it. Youâre a gaudy lot of resolutionists, you are! Youâve made a sweet mess of it. Perhaps youâll have the decency to leave us alone next time.â
Here the house grew angry, and in many voices pointed out how this blunder would never have come to pass if Number Five study had helped them from the first.
âBut you chaps are so beastly conceited, anââanâ you swaggered into the meetinâ as if we were a lot of idiots,â growled Orrin of the resolution.
âThatâs precisely what you are! Thatâs what weâve been tryinâ to hammer into your thick heads all this time,â said Stalky. âNever mind, weâll forgive you. Cheer up. You canât help beinâ asses, you know,â and, the enemyâs flank deftly turned, Stalky hopped into bed.
That night was the first of sorrow among the jubilant Kingâs. By some accident of under-floor drafts the cat did not vex the dormitory beneath which she lay, but the next one to the right; stealing on the air rather as a pale-blue sensation than as any poignant offense. But the mere adumbration of an odor is enough for the sensitive nose and clean tongue of youth. Decency demands that we draw several carbolized sheets over what the dormitory said to Mr. King and what Mr. King replied. He was genuinely proud of his house and fastidious in all that concerned their well-being. He came; he sniffed; he said things. Next morning a boy in that dormitory confided to his bosom friend, a fag of Macreaâs, that there was trouble in their midst which King would fain keep secret.
But Macreaâs boy had also a bosom friend in Proutâs, a shock-headed fag of malignant disposition, who, when he had wormed out the secret, toldâtold it in a high-pitched treble that rang along the corridor like a batâs squeak.
âAnââanâ theyâve been calling us âstinkersâ all this week. Why, Harland minor says they simply canât sleep in his dormitory for the stink. Come on!â
âWith one shout and with one cryâ Proutâs juniors hurled themselves into the war, and through the interval between first and second lesson some fifty twelve-year-olds were embroiled on the gravel outside Kingâs windows to a tune whose leit-motif was the word âstinker.â
âHark to the minute-gun at sea!â said Stalky. They were in their study collecting books for second lessonâLatin, with King. âI thought his azure brow was a bit cloudy at prayers. âShe is cominâ, sister Mary. She isâââ
âIf they make such a row now, what will they do when she really begins to look up anâ take notice?â
âWell, no vulgar repartee, Beetle. Ali we want is to keep out of this row like gentlemen.â
ââTis but a little faded flower.â Whereâs my Horace? Look here, I donât understand what she means by stinkinâ out Rattrayâs dormitory first. We holed in under Whiteâs, didnât we?â asked McTurk, with a wrinkled brow.
âSkittish little thing. Sheâs rompinâ about all over the place, I suppose.â
âMy Aunt! Kingâll be a cheerful customer at second lesson. I havenât prepared my Horace one little bit, either,â said Beetle. âCome on!â
They were outside the form-room door now. It was within five minutes of the bell, and King might arrive at any moment.
Turkey elbowed into a cohort of scuffling fags, cut out Thornton tertius (he that had been Harlandâs bosom friend), and bade him tell his tale.
It was a simple one, interrupted by tears. Many of Kingâs house trod already battered him for libel.
âOh, itâs nothing,â McTurk cried. âHe says that Kingâs house stinks. Thatâs all.â
âStale!â Stalky shouted. âWe knew that years ago, only we didnât choose to run about shoutinâ âstinker.â Weâve got some manners, ir they havenât. Catch a fag, Turkey, and make sure of it.â
Turkeyâs long arm closed on a hurried and anxious ornament of the Lower Second.
âOh, McTurk, please let me go. I donât stinkâI swear I donât!â
âGuilty conscience!â cried Beetle. âWho said you did?â
âWhat dâyou make of it?â Stalky punted the small boy into Beetleâs arms.
âSnf! Snf! He does, though. I think itâs leprosyâor thrush. Pâraps itâs both. Take it away.â
âIndeed, Master BeetleââKing generally came to the house-door for a minute or two as the bell rangââ 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.â
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 âThe Lazar-house.â
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 Proutâs 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.
âMy word, she is doinâ herself proud,â said Stalky. âDid you ever smell anything like it? Ah, anâ she isnât under Whiteâs dormitory at all yet.â
âBut she will be. Give her time,â said Beetle. âSheâll twine like a giddy honeysuckle. What howlinâ Lazarites they are! No house is justified in makinâ itself a stench in the nostrils of decentââ
âHigh-minded, pure-souled boys. Do you burn with remorse and regret?â 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 skirmishersâall houses mixedâflying, reforming, shrieking insults. On its tortured flanks marched the Hoplites, seniors hurling jests one after anotherâsimple and primitive jests of the Stone Age. To these the three added themselves, dispassionately, with an air of aloofness, almost sadly.
âAnd they look all right, too,â said Stalky. âIt canât be Rattray, can it? Rattray?â
No answer.
âRattray, dear? He seems stuffy about something or other. Look here, old man, we donât 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 itâs only a few fags. Your house is so beastly slack, though.â
âYou arenât going back to the house, are you?â said McTurk. The victims desired nothing better. âYouâve simply no conception of the reek up there. Of course, frowzinâ as you do, you wouldnât notice it; but, after this nice wash and the clean, fresh air, even youâd be upset. âMuch better camp on the Burrows. Weâll get you some straw. Shall weâ?â The house hurried in to the tune of âJohn Brownâs body,â sung by loving schoolmates, and barricaded themselves in their form-room. Straightway Stalky chalked a large cross, with âLord, have mercy upon us,â on the door, and left King to find it.
The wind shifted that night and wafted a carrion-reek into Macreaâs dormitories; so that boys in nightgowns pounded on the locked door between the houses, entreating Kingâs 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.
âTheyâre usinâ carbolic now. Malpas told me,â said Stalky. âKing thinks itâs the drains.â
âSheâll need a lot oâ carbolic,â said McTurk. âNo harm tryinâ, I suppose. It keeps King out of mischief.â
âI swear I thought he was goinâ to kill me when I sniffed just now. He didnât mind Burton major sniffinâ at me the other day, though. He never stopped Alexander howlinâ âStinker!â into our form-room beforeâbefore we doctored âem. He just grinned,â said Stalky. âWhat was he frothing over you for, Beetle?â
âAha! That, was my subtle jape. I had him on toast. You know he always jaws about the learned Lipsius.â
ââWho at the age of fourââthat chap?â said McTurk.
âYes. Whenever he hears Iâve written a poem. Well, just as I was sittinâ down, I whispered, âHow is our learned Lepsius?â to Burton major. Old Butt grinned like an owl. He didnât know what I was drivinâ at; but King jolly well did. That was really why he hove us out. Ainât you grateful? Now shut up. Iâm goinâ to write the âBallad of the Learned Lipsius.ââ
âKeep clear of anything coarse, then,â said Stalky. âI shouldnât like to be coarse on this happy occasion.â
âNot for wo-orlds. What rhymes to âstenches,â someone?â
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.
âBut you didnât seem to consider this when your house called usâahâstinkers. If you hadnât assured me that you never interfere with another manâs house, I should almost believe that it was a few casual remarks of yours that started all this nonsense.â
Prout had endured much, for King always took his temper to meals.
âYou spoke to Beetle yourself, didnât you? Something about not bathing, and being a water-funk?â the school chaplain put in. âI was scoring in the pavilion that day.â
âI may haveâjestingly. I really donât pretend to remember every remark I let fall among small boys; and full well I know the Beetle has no feelings to be hurt.â
âMay be; but he, or theyâit comes to to same thingâhave the fiendâs own knack of discovering a manâs weak place. I confess I rather go out of my way to conciliate Number Five study. It may be soft, but so far, I believe, I am the only man here whom they havenât maddened by theirâwellâattentions.â
âThat is all beside the point. I flatter myself I can deal with them alone as occasion arises. But if they feel themselves morally supported by those who should wield an absolute and open-handed justice, then I say that my lot is indeed a hard one. Of all things I detest, I admit that anything verging on disloyalty among ourselves is the first.â
The Common-room looked at one another out of the corners of their eyes, and Prout blushed.
âI deny it absolutely,â he said. âErâin fact, I own that I personally object to all three of them. It is not fair, therefore, toââ
âHow long do you propose to allow it?â said King.
âBut surely,â said Macrea, deserting his usual ally, âthe blame, if there be any, rests with you, King. You canât hold them responsible for theâyou prefer the good old Anglo-Saxon, I believeâstink in your house. My boys arc complaining of it now.â
âWhat can you expect? You know what boys are. Naturally they
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