Stalky & Co. by Rudyard Kipling (young adult books to read .txt) đ
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âAnâ itâs all goinâ up to the âEad. Oh, Good Lord!â
âEvery giddy word of it, my Chingangook,â said Beetle, dancing. âWhy shouldnât it? Weâve done nothing wrong. We ainât poachers. We didnât cut about blastinâ the characters of poor, innocent boysâsaying they were drunk.â
âThat I didnât,â said Foxy. âIâI only said that you beâaved uncommon odd when you come back with that badger. Mr. King may have taken the wrong hint from that.â
ââCourse he did; anâ heâll jolly well shove all the blame on you when he finds out heâs wrong. We know King, if you donât. Iâm ashamed of you. You ainât fit to be a sergeant,â said McTurk.
âNot with three thorough-goinâ young devils like you, I ainât. Iâve been had. Iâve been ambuscaded. Horse, foot, anâ guns, Iâve been had, anââanâ thereâll be no holdinâ the junior forms after this. Mârover, the âEad will send me with a note to Colonel Dabney to ask if what you say about beinâ invited was true.â
âThen youâd better go in by the Lodge-gates this time, instead of chasinâ your damâ boysâoh, that was the Epistle to Kingâso it was. We-el, Foxy?â Stalky put his chin on his hands and regarded the victim with deep delight.
âTi-ra-la-la-i-tu! I gloat! Hear me!â said McTurk. âFoxy brought us tea when we were moral lepers. Foxy has a heart. Foxy has been in the Army, too.â
âI wish Iâd haâ had you in my company, young gentlemen,â said the Sergeant from the depths of his heart; âIâd haâ given you something.â
âSilence at drumhead court-martial,â McTurk went on. âIâm advocate for the prisoner; and, besides, this is much too good to tell all the other brutes in the Coll. Theyâd never understand. They play cricket, and say: âYes sir,â and âO, sir,â and âNo, sir.ââ
âNever mind that. Go ahead,â said Stalky.
âWell, Foxyâs a good little chap when he does not esteem himself so as to be clever.â
ââTake not out your âounds on a werry windy day,ââ Stalky struck in. âI donât care if you let him off.â
âNor me,â said Beetle. âHeffy is my only joyâHeffy and King.â
âI âad to do it,â said the Sergeant, plaintively.
âRight, O! Led away by bad companions in the execution of his duty orâor words to that effect. Youâre dismissed with a reprimand, Foxy. We wonât tell about you. I swear we wonât,â McTurk concluded. âBad for the discipline of the school. Horrid bad.â
âWell,â said the Sergeant, gathering up the tea-things, âknowinâ what I know oâ the young devâgentlemen of the College, Iâm very glad to âear it. But what am I to tell the âEad?â
âAnything you jolly well please, Foxy. We arenât the criminals.â
To say that the Head was annoyed when the Sergeant appeared after dinner with the dayâs crime-sheet would be putting it mildly.
âCorkran, McTurk, and Co., I see. Bounds as usual. Hullo! What the deuce is this? Suspicion of drinking. Whose charge??â
âMr. Kingâs, sir. I caught âem out of bounds, sir: at least that was âow it looked. But thereâs a lot beâind, sir.â The Sergeant was evidently troubled.
âGo on,â said the Head. âLet us have your version.â He and the Sergeant had dealt with one another for some seven years; and the Head knew that Mr. Kingâs statements depended very largely on Mr. Kingâs temper.
âI thought they were out of bounds along the cliffs. But it come out they wasnât, sir. I saw them go into Colonel Dabneyâs woods, andâMr. King and Mr. Prout come alongâand the fact was, sir, we was mistook for poachers by Colonel Dabneyâs peopleâMr. King and Mr. Prout and me. There were some words, sir, on both sides. The young gentlemen slipped âome somehow, and they seemed âighly humorous, sir. Mr. King was mistook by Colonel Dabney himselfâColonel Dabney beinâ strict. Then they preferred to come straight to you, sir, on account of whatâwhat Mr. King may âave said about their âabits afterwards in Mr. Proutâs study. I only said they was âighly humorous, laughinâ anâ gigglinâ, anâ a bit above âemselves. Theyâve since told me, sir, in a humorous way, that they was invited by Colonel Dabney to go into âis woods.â
âI see. They didnât tell their housemaster that, of course?â
âThey took up Mr. King on appeal just as soon as he spoke about theirââabits. Put in the appeal at once, sir, anâ asked to be sent to the dormitory waitinâ for you. Iâve since gathered, sir, in their humorous way, sir, that someâow or other theyâve âeard about every word Colonel Dabney said to Mr. King and Mr. Prout when he mistook âem for poachers. IâI might haâ known when they led me on so that they âeld the inner line of communications. Itâsâitâs a plain do, sir, if you ask me; anâ theyâre gloatinâ over it in the dormitory.â
The Head sawâsaw even to the uttermost farthingâand his mouth twitched a little under his mustache.
âSend them to me at once, Sergeant. This case neednât wait over.â
âGood evening,â said he when the three appeared under escort. âI want your undivided attention for a few minutes. Youâve known me for five years, and Iâve known you forâtwenty-five. I think we understand one another perfectly. I am now going to pay you a tremendous compliment (the brown one, please, Sergeant. Thanks. You neednât wait). Iâm going to execute you without rhyme, Beetle, or reason. I know you went to Colonel Dabneyâs covers because you were invited. Iâm not even going to send the Sergeant with a note to ask if your statement is true; because I am convinced that on this occasion you have adhered strictly to the truth. I know, too, that you were not drinking. (You can take off that virtuous expression, McTurk, or I shall begin to fear you donât understand me.) There is not a flaw in any of your characters. And that is why I am going to perpetrate a howling injustice. Your reputations have been injured, havenât they? You have been disgraced before the house, havenât you? You have a peculiarly keen regard for the honor of your house, havenât you? Well, now I am going to lick you.â
Six apiece was their portion upon that word.
âAnd this I thinkââthe Head replaced the cane, and flung the written charge into the waste-paper basketââcovers the situation. When you find a variation from the normalâthis will be useful to you in later lifeâalways meet him in an abnormal way. And that reminds me. There are a pile of paper-backs on that shelf. You can borrow them if you put them back. I donât think theyâll take any harm from being read in the open. They smell of tobacco rather. You will go to prep. this evening as usual. Good-night,â said that amazing man.
âGood-night, and thank you, sir.â
âI swear Iâll pray for the Head to-night,â said Beetle. âThose last two cuts were just flicks on my collar. Thereâs a âMonte Cristoâ in that lower shelf. I saw it. Bags I, next time we go to Aves!â
âDearr man!â said McTurk. âNo gating. No impots. No beastly questions. All settled. Hullo! whatâs King goinâ in to him forâKing and Prout?â
Whatever the nature of that interview, it did not improve either Kingâs or Proutâs ruffled plumes, for, when they came out of the Headâs house, eyes noted that the one was red and blue with emotion as to his nose, and that the other was sweating profusely. That sight compensated them amply for the Imperial Jaw with which they were favored by the two. It seemsâand who so astonished as they?âthat they had held back material facts; were guilty both of suppressioveri_ and suggestiofalsi_ (well-known gods against whom they often offended); further, that they were malignant in their dispositions, untrustworthy in their characters, pernicious and revolutionary in their influences, abandoned to the devils of wilfulness, pride, and a most intolerable conceit. Ninthly, and lastly, they were to have a care and to be very careful.
They were careful, as only boys can be when there is a hurt to be inflicted. They waited through one suffocating week till Prout and King were their royal selves again; waited till there was a house-matchâtheir own house, tooâin which Prout was taking part; waited, further, till he had his pads in the pavilion and stood ready to go forth. King was scoring at the window, and the three sat on a bench without.
Said Stalky to Beetle: âI say, Beetle,_quis_custodet_ipsos_custodes_?â
âDonât ask me,â said Beetle. âIâll have nothinâ private with you. Ye can be as private as ye please the other end of the bench; and I wish ye a very good afternoon.â
McTurk yawned.
âWell, ye should haâ come up to the lodge like Christians instead oâ chasinâ yourâa-hemâboys through the length anâ breadth of my covers. I think these house-matches are all rot. Letâs go over to Colonel Dabneyâs anâ see if heâs collared any more poachers.â
That afternoon there was joy in Aves.
SLAVES OF THE LAMP
The music-room on the top floor of Number Five was filled with the âAladdinâ company at rehearsal. Dickson Quartus, commonly known as Dick Four, was Aladdin, stage-manager, ballet-master, half the orchestra, and largely librettist, for the âbookâ had been rewritten and filled with local allusions. The pantomime was to be given next week, in the down-stairs study occupied by Aladdin, Abanazar, and the Emperor of China. The Slave of the Lamp, with the Princess Badroulbadour and the Widow Twankay, owned Number Five study across the same landing, so that the company could be easily assembled. The floor shook to the stamp-and-go of the ballet, while Aladdin, in pink cotton tights, a blue and tinsel jacket, and a plumed hat, banged alternately on the piano and his banjo. He was the moving spirit of the game, as befitted a senior who had passed his Army Preliminary and hoped to enter Sandhurst next spring.
Aladdin came to his own at last, Abanazar lay poisoned on the floor, the Widow Twankay danced her dance, and the company decided it would âcome all right on the night.â
âWhat about the last song, though?â said the Emperor, a tallish, fair-headed boy with a ghost of a mustache, at which he pulled manfully. âWe need a rousing old tune.â
ââJohn Peelâ? âDrink, Puppy, Drinkâ?â suggested Abanazar, smoothing his baggy lilac pajamas. âPussyâ Abanazar never looked more than one-half awake, but he owned a soft, slow smile which well suited the part of the Wicked Uncle.
âStale,â said Aladdin. âMight as well have âGrandfatherâs Clock.â Whatâs that thing you were humming at prep. last night, Stalky?â
Stalky, The Slave of the Lamp, in black tights and doublet, a black silk half-mask on his forehead, whistled lazily where he lay on the top of the piano. It was a catchy music-hall tune.
Dick Four cocked his head critically, and squinted down a large red nose.
âOnce more, and I can pick it up,â he said, strumming. âSing the words.â
âArrah, Patsy, mind the baby! Arrah, Patsy, mind the child! Wrap him in an overcoat, heâs surely going wild! Arrah, Patsy, mind the baby! just you mind the child awhile! Heâll kick and bite and cry all night! Arrah, Patsy, mind the child!â
âRippinâ! Oh, rippinâ!â said Dick Four. âOnly we shanât have any piano on the night. We must work it with the banjoesâplay anâ dance at the same time. You try, Tertius.â
The Emperor pushed aside his pea-green sleeves of state, and followed Dick Four on a heavy nickel plated banjo.
âYes, but Iâm dead all this time. Bung in the middle of
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