Stalky & Co. by Rudyard Kipling (young adult books to read .txt) đ
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STALKY & CO.
By Rudyard Kipling
âLet us now praise famous menââ Men of little showingâ For their work continueth, And their work continueth, Greater than their knowing.
Western wind and open surge Tore us from our mothers; Flung us on a naked shore (Twelve bleak houses by the shore! Seven summers by the shore!) âMid two hundred brothers.
There we met with famous men Set in office oâer us. And they beat on us with rodsâ Faithfully with many rodsâ Daily beat us on with rodsâ For the love they bore us!
Out of Egypt unto Troyâ Over Himalayaâ Far and sure our bands have goneâ Hy-Brasil or Babylon, Islands of the Southern Run, And cities of Cathaia!
And we all praise famous menâ Ancients of the College; For they taught us common senseâ Tried to teach us common senseâ Truth and Godâs Own Common Sense Which is more than knowledge!
Each degree of Latitude Strung about Creation Seeth one (or more) of us, (Of one muster all of usâ Of one master all of usâ) Keen in his vocation.
This we learned from famous men Knowing not its uses When they showed in daily work Man must finish off his workâ Right or wrong, his daily work-And without excuses.
Servants of the staff and chain, Mine and fuse and grapnelâ Some before the face of Kings, Stand before the face of Kings; Bearing gifts to divers Kingsâ Gifts of Case and Shrapnel.
This we learned from famous men Teaching in our borders. Who declareâd it was best, Safest, easiest and bestâ Expeditious, wise and bestâ To obey your orders.
Some beneath the further stars Bear the greater burden. Set to serve the lands they rule, (Save he serve no man may rule) Serve and love the lands they rule; Seeking praise nor guerdon.
This we learned from famous men Knowing not we learned it. Only, as the years went byâ Lonely, as the years went byâ Far from help as years went by Plainer we discerned it.
Wherefore praise we famous men Prom whose bays we borrowâ They that put aside Todayâ All the joys of their Todayâ And with toil of their Today Bought for us Tomorrow!
Bless and praise we famous men Men of little showing! For their work continueth And their work continueth Broad and deep continueth Great beyond their knowing!
Copyright, 1899. by Rudyard Kipling
CONTENTS
I. IN AMBUSH II. SLAVES OF THE LAMPâPART I. III. AN UNSAVORY INTERLUDE IV. THE IMPRESSIONISTS V. THE MORAL REFORMERS VI. A LITTLE PREP. VII. THE FLAG OF THEIR COUNTRY VIII. THE LAST TERM IX. SLAVES OF THE LAMP âPART II.
âIN AMBUSH.â
In summer all right-minded boys built huts in the furze-hill behind the Collegeâlittle lairs whittled out of the heart of the prickly bushes, full of stumps, odd root-ends, and spikes, but, since they were strictly forbidden, palaces of delight. And for the fifth summer in succession, Stalky, McTurk, and Beetle (this was before they reached the dignity of a study) had built like beavers a place of retreat and meditation, where they smoked.
Now, there was nothing in their characters as known to Mr. Prout, their housemaster, at all commanding respect; nor did Foxy, the subtle red-haired school Sergeant, trust them. His business was to wear tennis-shoes, carry binoculars, and swoop hawklike upon evil boys. Had he taken the field alone, that hut would have been raided, for Foxy knew the manners of his quarry; but Providence moved Mr. Prout, whose school-name, derived from the size of his feet, was Hoofer, to investigate on his own account; and it was the cautious Stalky who found the track of his pugs on the very floor of their lair one peaceful afternoon when Stalky would fain have forgotten Prout and his works in a volume of Surtees and a new briar-wood pipe. Crusoe, at sight of the footprint, did not act more swiftly than Stalky. He removed the pipes, swept up all loose match-ends, and departed to warn Beetle and McTurk.
But it was characteristic of the boy that he did not approach his allies till he had met and conferred with little Hartopp, President of the Natural History Society, an institution which Stalky held in contempt, Hartopp was more than surprised when the boy meekly, as he knew how, begged to propose himself, Beetle, and McTurk as candidates; confessed to a long-smothered interest in first-flowerings, early butterflies, and new arrivals, and volunteered, if Mr. Hartopp saw fit, to enter on the new life at once. Being a master, Hartopp was suspicious; but he was also an enthusiast, and his gentle little soul had been galled by chance-heard remarks from the three, and specially Beetle. So he was gracious to that repentant sinner, and entered the three names in his book.
Then, and not till then, did Stalky seek Beetle and McTurk in their house form-room. They were stowing away books for a quiet afternoon in the furze, which they called the âwuzzy.â
âAll up,â said Stalky, serenely. âI spotted Heffyâs fairy feet round our hut after dinner. âBlessing theyâre so big.â
âConfound! Did you hide our pipes?â said Beetle.
âOh, no. Left âem in the middle of the hut, of course. What a blind ass you are, Beetle! Dâyou think nobody thinks but yourself? Well, we canât use the hut any more. Hoofer will be watchinâ it.â
ââBother! Likewise blow!ââ said McTurk thoughtfully, unpacking the volumes with which his chest was cased. The boys carried their libraries between their belt and their collar. âNice job! This means weâre under suspicion for the rest of the term.â
âWhy? All that Heffy has found is a hut. He and Foxy will watch it. Itâs nothing to do with us; only we mustnât be seen that way for a bit.â
âYes, and where else are we to go?â said Beetle. âYou chose that place, tooâanââanâ I wanted to read this afternoon.â
Stalky sat on a desk drumming his heels on the form.
âYouâre a despondinâ brute, Beetle. Sometimes I think I shall have to drop you altogether. Did you ever know your Uncle Stalky forget you yet? Hisrebus_infectis_âafter Iâd seen Heffyâs man-tracks marchinâ round our hut, I found little Hartoppâ_destricto_ense_âwavinâ a butterfly-net. I conciliated Hartopp. âTold him that youâd read papers to the Bug-hunters if heâd let you join, Beetle. âTold him you liked butterflies, Turkey. Anyhow, I soothed the Hartoffles, and weâre Bug-hunters now.â
âWhatâs the good of that?â said Beetle.
âOh, Turkey, kick him!â
In the interests of science bounds were largely relaxed for the members of the Natural History Society. They could wander, if they kept clear of all houses, practically where they chose; Mr. Hartopp holding himself responsible for their good conduct.
Beetle began to see this as McTurk began the kicking.
âIâm an ass, Stalky!â he said, guarding the afflicted part. âPax, Turkey. Iâm an ass.â
âDonât stop, Turkey. Isnât your Uncle Stalky a great man?â
âGreat man,â said Beetle.
âAll the same bug-huntinâs a filthy business,â said McTurk. âHow the deuce does one begin?â
âThis way,â said Stalky, turning to some fagsâ lockers behind him. âFags are dabs at Natural History. Hereâs young Braybrookeâs botany-case.â He flung out a tangle of decayed roots and adjusted the slide. ââGives one no end of a professional air, I think. Hereâs Clay Minorâs geological hammer. Beetle can carry that. Turkey, youâd better covet a butterfly-net from somewhere.â
âIâm blowed if I do,â said McTurk, simply, with immense feeling. âBeetle, give me the hammer.â
âAll right. Iâm not proud. Chuck us down that net on top of the lockers, Stalky.â
âThatâs all right. Itâs a collapsible jamboree, too. Beastly luxurious dogs these fags are. Built like a fishinâ-rod. âPon my sainted Sam, but we look the complete Bug-hunters! Now, listen to your Uncle Stalky! Weâre goinâ along the cliffs after butterflies. Very few chaps come there. Weâre goinâ to leg it, too. Youâd better leave your book behind.â
âNot much!â said Beetle, firmly. âIâm not goinâ to be done out of my fun for a lot of filthy butterflies.â
âThen youâll sweat horrid. Youâd better carry my Jorrocks. âTwonât make you any hotter.â
They all sweated; for Stalky led them at a smart trot west away along the cliffs under the furze-hills, crossing combe after gorzy combe. They took no heed to flying rabbits or fluttering fritillaries, and all that Turkey said of geology was utterly unquotable.
âAre we going to Clovelly?â he puffed at last, and they flung themselves down on the short, springy turf between the drone of the sea below and the light summer wind among the inland trees. They were looking into a combe half full of old, high furze in gay bloom that ran up to a fringe of brambles and a dense wood of mixed timber and hollies. It was as though one-half the combe were filled with golden fire to the cliffâs edge. The side nearest to them was open grass, and fairly bristled with notice-boards.
âFee-rocious old cove, this,â said Stalky, reading the nearest. ââProsecutedwiththeutmost_rigour_ofthelaw_. G. M. Dabney, Col., J.P.,â anâ all the rest of it. âDonât seem to me that any chap in his senses would trespass here, does it?â
âYouâve got to prove damage âfore you can prosecute for anything! âCanât prosecute for trespass,â said McTurk, whose father held many acres in Ireland. âThatâs all rot!â
âGlad of that, âcause this looks like what we wanted. Not straight across, Beetle, you blind lunatic! Anyone could spot us half a mile off. This way; and furl up your beastly butterfly-net.â
Beetle disconnected the ring, thrust the net into a pocket, shut up the handle to a two-foot stave, and slid the cane-ring round his waist. Stalky led inland to the wood, which was, perhaps, a quarter of a mile from the sea, and reached the fringe of the brambles.
âNow we can get straight down through the furze, and never show up at all,â said the tactician. âBeetle, go ahead and explore. Snf! Snf! Beastly stink of fox somewhere!â
On all fours, save when he clung to his spectacles, Beetle wormed into the gorse, and presently announced between grunts of pain that he had found a very fair fox-track. This was well for Beetle, since Stalky pinched him atergo_. Down that tunnel they crawled. It was evidently a highway for the inhabitants of the combe; and, to their inexpressible joy, ended, at the very edge of the cliff, in a few square feet of dry turf walled and roofed with impenetrable gorse.
âBy gum! There isnât a single thing to do except lie down,â said Stalky, returning a knife to his pocket. âLook here!â
He parted the tough stems before him, and it was as a window opened on a far view of Lundy, and the deep sea sluggishly nosing the pebbles a couple of hundred feet below. They could hear young jackdaws squawking on the ledges, the hiss and jabber of a nest of hawks somewhere out of sight; and, with
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