Stalky & Co. by Rudyard Kipling (young adult books to read .txt) đ
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Twenty-one years in the army had left their mark on Foxy. He obeyed.
âNow. March!â The high Lodge gate shut with a clang. âMy duty! A sergeant to tell me my duty!â puffed Colonel Dabney. âGood Lard! more sergeants!â
âItâs King! Itâs King!â gulped Stalky, his head on the horsehair pillow. McTurk was eating the rag-carpet before the speckless hearth, and the sofa heaved to the emotions of Beetle. Through the thick glass the figures without showed blue, distorted, and menacing.
âIâI protest against this outrage.â King had evidently been running up hill. âThe man was entirely within his duty. Letâlet me give you my card.â
âHeâs in flannels!â Stalky buried his head again.
âUnfortunatelyâmost unfortunatelyâI have not one with me, but my name is King, sir, a housemaster of the College, and you will find me preparedâfully preparedâto answer for this manâs action. Weâve seen threeââ
âDid ye see my notice-boards?â
âI admit we did; but under the circumstancesââ
âI stand inloco_parentis_.â Proutâs deep voice was added to the discussion. They could hear him pant.
âFâwhat?â Colonel Dabney was growing more and more Irish.
âIâm responsible for the boys under my charge.â
âYe are, are ye? Then all I can say is that ye set them a very bad exampleâa damâ bad example, if I may say so. I do not own your boys. Iâve not seen your boys, anâ I tell you that if there was a boy grinninâ in every bush on the place, still yeâve no shadow of a right here, cominâ up from the combe that way, anâ frighteninâ everything in it. Donât attempt to deny it. Ye did. Ye should have come to the Lodge anâ seen me like Christians, instead of chasinâ your damâ boys through the length and breadth of my covers. Inloco_parentis_ ye are? Well, Iâve not forgotten my Latin either, anâ Iâll say to you: âQuiscustodiet_ipsos_custodes_.â If the masters trespass, how can we blame the boys?â
âBut if I could speak to you privately,â said Prout.
âIâll have nothing private with you! Ye can be as private as ye please on the other side oâ that gate anââI wish ye a very good afternoon.â
A second time the gate clanged. They waited till Colonel Dabney had returned to the house, and fell into one anotherâs arms, crowing for breath.
âOh, my Soul! Oh, my King! Oh, my Heffy! Oh, my Foxy! Zeal, all zeal, Mr. Simple.â Stalky wiped his eyes. âOh! Oh I Oh!ââI did boil the exciseman!â We must get out of this or weâll be late for tea.â
âGeâGeâget the badger and make little Hartopp happy. Maâmaâmake âem all happy,â sobbed McTurk, groping for the door and kicking the prostrate Beetle before him.
They found the beast in an evil-smelling box, left two half-crowns for payment, and staggered home. Only the badger grunted most marvelous like Colonel Dabney, and they dropped him twice or thrice with shrieks of helpless laughter. They were but imperfectly recovered when Foxy met them by the Fives Court with word that they were to go up to their dormitory and wait till sent for.
âWell, take this box to Mr. Hartoppâs rooms, then. Weâve done something for the Natural History Society, at any rate,â said Beetle.
ââFraid that wonât save you, young genâelmen,â Foxy answered, in an awful voice. He was sorely ruffled in his mind.
âAll sereno, Foxibus.â Stalky had reached the extreme stage of hiccups. âWeâweâll never desert you, Foxy. Hounds choppinâ foxes in cover is more a proof of vice, ainât it?⊠No, youâre right. IâmâIâm not quite well.â
âTheyâve gone a bit too far this time,â Foxy thought to himself. âVery far gone, Iâd say, excepâ there was no smell of liquor. Anâ yet it isnât like âemâsomehow. King and Prout they âad their dressinâ-down same as me. Thatâs one comfort.â
âNow, we must pull up,â said Stalky, rising from the bed on which he had thrown himself. âWeâre injured innocenceâas usual. We donât know what weâve been sent up here for, do we?â
âNo explanation. Deprived of tea. Public disgrace before the house,â said McTurk, whose eyes were running over. âItâs damâ serious.â
âWell, hold on, till King loses his temper,â said Beetle. âHeâs a libelous old rip, anâ heâll be in a ravinâ paddy-wack. Proutâs too beastly cautious. Keep your eye on King, and, if he gives us a chance, appeal to the Head. That always makes âem sick.â
They were summoned to their housemasterâs study, King and Foxy supporting Prout, and Foxy had three canes under his arm. King leered triumphantly, for there were tears, undried tears of mirth, on the boysâ cheeks. Then the examination began.
Yes, they had walked along the cliffs. Yes, they had entered Colonel Dabneyâs grounds. Yes, they had seen the notice-boards (at this point Beetle sputtered hysterically). For what purpose had they entered Colonel Dabneyâs grounds? âWell, sir, there was a badger.â
Here King, who loathed the Natural History Society because he did not like Hartopp, could no longer be restrained. He begged them not to add mendacity to open insolence. But the badger was in Mr. Hartoppâs rooms, sir. The Sergeant had kindly taken it up for them. That disposed of the badger, and the temporary check brought Kingâs temper to boiling-point. They could hear his foot on the floor while Prout prepared his lumbering inquiries. They had settled into their stride now. Their eyes ceased to sparkle; their faces were blank; their hands hung beside them without a twitch. They were learning, at the expense of a fellow-countryman, the lesson of their race, which is to put away all emotion and entrap the alien at the proper time.
So far good. King was importing himself more freely into the trial, being vengeful where Prout was grieved. They knew the penalties of trespassing? With a fine show of irresolution, Stalky admitted that he had gathered some information vaguely bearing on this head, but he thoughtâThe sentence was dragged out to the uttermost: Stalky did not wish to play his trump with such an opponent. Mr. King desired no buts, nor was he interested in Stalkyâs evasions. They, on the other hand, might be interested in his poor views. Boys who creptâwho sneakedâwho lurkedâout of bounds, even the generous bounds of the Natural History Society, which they had falsely joined as a cloak for their misdeedsâtheir vicesâtheir villainiesâtheir immoralitiesâ
âHeâll break cover in a minute,â said Stalky to himself. âThen weâll run into him before he gets away.â
Such boys, scabrous boys, moral lepersâthe current of his words was carrying King off his feetâevil-speakers, liars, slow-belliesâyea, incipient drunkardsâŠ
He was merely working up to a peroration, and the boys knew it; but McTurk cut through the frothing sentence, the others echoing:
âI appeal to the Head, sir.â
âI appeal to the head, sir.â
âI appeal to the Head, sir.â
It was their unquestioned right. Drunkenness meant expulsion after a public flogging. They had been accused of it. The case was the Headâs, and the Headâs alone.
âThou hast appealed unto Caesar: unto Caesar shalt thou go.â They had heard that sentence once or twice before in their careers. âNone the less,â said King, uneasily, âyou would be better advised to abide by our decision, my young friends.â
âAre we allowed to associate with the rest of the school till we see the Head, sir?â said McTurk to his housemaster, disregarding King. This at once lifted the situation to its loftiest plane. Moreover, it meant no work, for moral leprosy was strictly quarantined, and the Head never executed judgment till twenty-four cold hours later.
âWellâerâif you persist in your defiant attitude,â said King, with a loving look at the canes under Foxyâs arm. âThere is no alternative.â
Ten minutes later the news was over the whole school. Stalky and Co. had fallen at lastâfallen by drink. They had been drinking. They had returned blind-drunk from a hut. They were even now lying hopelessly intoxicated on the dormitory floor. A few bold spirits crept up to look, and received boots about the head from the criminals.
âWeâve got himâgot him on the Caudine Toasting-fork!â said Stalky, after those hints were taken. âKingâll have to prove his charges up to the giddy hilt.â
âToo much ticklee, him bust,â Beetle quoted from a book of his reading. âDidnât I say heâd go pop if we lat un bide?â
âNo prep., either, O ye incipient drunkards,â said McTurk, âand itâs trig night, too. Hullo! Hereâs our dear friend Foxy. More tortures, Foxibus?â
âIâve brought you something to eat, young gentlemen,â said the Sergeant from behind a crowded tray. Their wars had ever been waged without malice, and a suspicion floated in Foxyâs mind that boys who allowed themselves to be tracked so easily might, perhaps, hold something in reserve. Foxy had served through the Mutiny, when early and accurate information was worth much.
âIâI noticed you âadnât âad anything to eat, anâ I spoke to Gumbly, anâ he said you wasnât exactly cut off from supplies. So I brought up this. Itâs your potted âam tin, ainât it, Mr. Corkran?â
âWhy, Foxibus, youâre a brick,â said Stalky. âI didnât think you had this muchâwhatâs the word, Beetle?â
âBowels,â Beetle replied, promptly. âThank you, Sergeant. Thatâs young Carterâs potted ham, though.â
âThere was a C on it. I thought it was Mr. Corkranâs. This is a very serious business, young gentlemen. Thatâs what it is. I didnât know, perhaps, but there might be something on your side which you hadnât said to Mr. King or Mr. Prout, maybe.â
âThere is. Heaps, Foxibus.â This from Stalky through a full mouth.
âThen you see, if that was the case, it seemed to me I might represent it, quiet so to say, to the âEad when he asks me about it. Iâve got to take âim the charges to-night, anââit looks bad on the face of it.â
ââTrocious bad, Foxy. Twenty-seven cuts in the Gym before all the school, and public expulsion. âWine is a mocker, strong drink is raginâ,ââ quoth Beetle.
âItâs nothinâ to make fun of, young gentlemen. I âave to go to the âEad with the charges. Anââanâ you maynât be aware, perâaps, that I was followinâ you this afternoon; havinâ my suspicions.â
âDid ye see the notice-boards?â croaked McTurk, in the very brogue of Colonel Dabney.
âYeâve eyes in your head. Donât attempt to deny it. Ye did!â said Beetle.
âA sergeant! To run about poachinâ on your pension! Damnable, O damnable!â said Stalky, without pity.
âGood Lord!â said the Sergeant, sitting heavily upon a bed. âWhereâwhere the devil was you? I might haâ known it was a doâsomewhere.â
âOh, you clever maniac!â Stalky resumed. âWe maynât be aware you were followinâ us this afternoon, maynât we? âThought you were stalkinâ us, eh? Why, we led you bung into it, of course. Colonel Dabneyâdonât you think heâs a nice man, Foxy?âColonel Dabneyâs our pet particular friend. Weâve been goinâ there for weeks and weeks, he invited us. You and your duty! Curse your duty, sir! Your duty was to keep off his covers.â
âYouâll never be able to hold up your head again, Foxy. The fags âll hoot at you,â said Beetle.
âThink of your giddy prestige!â The Sergeant was thinkingâhard.
âLook âere, young gentlemen,â he said, earnestly. âYou arenât surely ever goinâ to tell, are you? Wasnât Mr. Prout and Mr. King inâin it too?â
âFoxibusculus, they was. They wasâsingular horrid. Caught it worse than you. We
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