Stalky & Co. by Rudyard Kipling (young adult books to read .txt) đ
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âPoor chap!â said Beetle, with a false, feigned sympathy. âLet it bleed a little. Thatâll prevent apoplexy,â and he held the blind head skilfully over the table, and the papers on the table, as he guided the howling Manders to the door.
Then did Beetle, alone with the wreckage, return good for evil. How, in that office, a complete set of âGibbonâ was scarred all along the back as by a flint; how so much black and copying ink came to be mingled with Mandersâs gore on the table-cloth; why the big gum-bottle, unstoppered, had rolled semicircularly across the floor; and in what manner the white china door-knob grew to be painted with yet more of Mandersâs young blood, were matters which Beetle did not explain when the rabid King returned to find him standing politely over the reeking hearth-rug.
âYou never told me to go, sir,â he said, with the air of Casabianca, and King consigned him to the outer darkness.
But it was to a boot-cupboard under the staircase on the ground floor that he hastened, to loose the mirth that was destroying him. He had not drawn breath for a first whoop of triumph when two hands choked him dumb.
âGo to the dormitory and get me my things. Bring âem to Number Five lavatory. Iâm still in tights,â hissed Stalky, sitting on his head. âDonât run. Walk.â
But Beetle staggered into the form-room next door, and delegated his duty to the yet unenlightened McTurk, with an hysterical precis of the campaign thus far. So it was McTurk, of the wooden visage, who brought the clothes from the dormitory while Beetle panted on a form. Then the three buried themselves in Number Five lavatory, turned on all the taps, filled the place with steam, and dropped weeping into the baths, where they pieced out the war.
âMoi! Je! Ich! Ego!â gasped Stalky. âI waited till I couldnât hear myself think, while you played the drum! Hid in the coal-lockerâand tweaked Rabbits-Eggsâand Rabbits-Eggs rocked King. Wasnât it beautiful? Did you hear the glass?â
âWhy, heâheâhe,â shrieked McTurk, one trembling finger pointed at Beetle.
âWhy, IâIâI was through it all,â Beetle howled; âin his study, being jawed.â
âOh, my soul!â said Stalky with a yell, disappearing under water.
âTheâthe glass was nothing. Manders minorâs headâs cut open. Laâlaâlamp upset all over the rug. Blood on the books and papers. The gum! The gum! The gum! The ink! The ink! The ink! Oh, Lord!â
Then Stalky leaped out, all pink as he was, and shook Beetle into some sort of coherence; but his tale prostrated them afresh.
âI bunked for the boot-cupboard the second I heard King go down-stairs. Beetle tumbled in on top of me. The spare keyâs hid behind the loose board. There isnât a shadow of evidence,â said Stalky. They were all chanting together.
âAnd he turned us out himselfâhimselfâhimself!â This from McTurk. âHe canât begin to suspect us. Oh, Stalky, itâs the loveliest thing weâve ever done.â
âGum! Gum! Dollops of gum!â shouted Beetle, his spectacles gleaming through a sea of lather. âInk and blood all mixed. I held the little beastâs head all over the Latin proses for Monday. Golly, how the oil stunk! And Rabbits-Eggs told King to poultice his nose! Did you hit Rabbits-Eggs, Stalky?â
âDid I jolly well not.? Tweaked him all over. Did you hear him curse? Oh, I shall be sick in a minute if I donât stop.â
But dressing was a slow process, because McTurk was obliged to dance when he heard that the musk basket was broken, and, moreover, Beetle retailed all Kingâs language with emendations and purple insets.
âShockinâ!â said Stalky, collapsing in a helpless welter of half-hitched trousers. âSo damâ bad, too, for innocent boys like us! Wonder what theyâd say at âSt. Winifredâs, or the World of School.ââBy gum! That reminds me we owe the Lower Third one for assaultinâ Beetle when he chivied Manders minor. Come on! Itâs an alibi, Samivel; and, besides, if we let âem off theyâll be worse next time.â
The Lower Third had set a guard upon their form-room for the space of a full hour, which to a boy is a lifetime. Now they were busy with their Saturday evening businessesâcooking sparrows over the gas with rusty nibs; brewing unholy drinks in gallipots; skinning moles with pocket-knives; attending to paper trays full of silkworms, or discussing the iniquities of their elders with a freedom, fluency, and point that would have amazed their parents. The blow fell without warning. Stalky upset a form crowded with small boys among their own cooking utensils, McTurk raided the untidy lockers as a terrier digs at a rabbit-hole, while Beetle poured ink upon such heads as he could not appeal to with a Smithâs Classical Dictionary. Three brisk minutes accounted for many silkworms, pet larvae, French exercises, school caps, half-prepared bones and skulls, and a dozen pots of home-made sloe jam. It was a great wreckage, and the form-room looked as though three conflicting tempests had smitten it.
âPhew!â said Stalky, drawing breath outside the door (amid groans of âOh, you beastly ca-ads! You think yourselves awful funny,â and so forth). âThatâs all right. Never let the sun go down upon your wrath. Rummy little devils, fags. Got no notion oâ combininâ.â
âSix of âem sat on my head when I went in after Manders minor,â said Beetle. âI warned âem what theyâd get, though.â
âEverybody paid in fullâbeautiful feelinâ,â said McTurk absently, as they strolled along the corridor. âDonât think weâd better say much about King, though, do you, Stalky?â
âNot much. Our line is injured innocence, of courseâsame as when the Sergeant reported us on suspicion of smoking in the bunkers. If I hadnât thought of buyinâ the pepper and spillinâ it all over our clothes, heâd have smelt us. King was gha-astly facetious about that. âCalled us bird-stuffers in form for a week.â
âAh, King hates the Natural History Society because little Hartopp is president. Mustnât do anything in the Coll. without glorifyinâ King,â said McTurk. âBut he must be a putrid ass, know, to suppose at our time oâ life weâd go and stuff birds like fags.â
âPoor old King!â said Beetle. âHeâs unpopular in Common-room, and theyâll chaff his head off about Rabbits-Eggs. Golly! How lovely! How beautiful! How holy! But you should have seen his face when the first rock came in! And the earth from the basket!â
So they were all stricken helpless for five minutes.
They repaired at last to Abanazarâs study, and were received reverently.
âWhatâs the matter?â said Stalky, quick to realize new atmospheres.
âYou know jolly well,â said Abanazar. âYouâll be expelled if you get caught. King is a gibbering maniac.â
âWho? Which? What? Expelled for how? We only played the war-drum. Weâve got turned out for that already.â
âDo you chaps mean to say you didnât make Rabbits-Eggs drunk and bribe him to rock Kingâs rooms?â
âBribe him? No, that Iâll swear we didnât,â said Stalky, with a relieved heart, for he loved not to tell lies. âWhat a low mind youâve got, Pussy! Weâve been down having a bath. Did Rabbits-Eggs rock King? Strong, perseverinâ man King? Shockinâ!â
âAwfâly. Kingâs frothing at the mouth. Thereâs bell for prayers. Come on.â
âWait a sec,â said Stalky, continuing the conversation in a loud and cheerful voice, as they descended the stairs. âWhat did Rabbits-Eggs rock King for?â
âI know,â said Beetle, as they passed Kingâs open door. âI was in his study.â
âHush, you ass!â hissed the Emperor of China. âOh, heâs gone down to prayers,â said Beetle, watching the shadow of the housemaster on the wall. âRabbits-Eggs was only a bit drunk, swearinâ at his horse, and King jawed him through the window, and then, of course, he rocked King.â
âDo you mean to say,â said Stalky, âthat King began it?â
King was behind them, and every well-weighed word went up the staircase like an arrow. âI can only swear,â said Beetle, âthat King cursed like a bargee. Simply disgustinâ. Iâm goinâ to write to my father about it.â
âBetter report it to Mason,â suggested Stalky. âHe knows our tender consciences. Hold on a shake. Iâve got to tie my bootlace.â
The other study hurried forward. They did not wish to be dragged into stage asides of this nature. So it was left to McTurk to sum up the situation beneath the guns of the enemy.
âYou see,â said the Irishman, hanging on the banister, âhe begins by bullying little chaps; then he bullies the big chaps; then he bullies some one who isnât connected with the College, and then catches it. Serves him jolly well right⊠I beg your pardon, sir. I didnât see you were coming down the staircase.â
The black gown tore past like a thunder-storm, and in its wake, three abreast, arms linked, the Aladdin company rolled up the big corridor to prayers, singing with most innocent intention:
âArrah, Patsy, mind the baby! Arrah, Patsy, mind the child! Wrap him up in an overcoat, heâs surely goinâ wild! Arrah, Patsy, mind the baby; just ye mind the child awhile! Heâll kick anâ bite anâ cry all night! Arrah, Patsy, mind the child!â
AN UNSAVORY INTERLUDE.
It was a maiden aunt of Stalky who sent him both books, with the inscription, âTo dearest Artie, on his sixteenth birthday;â it was McTurk who ordered their hypothecation; and it was Beetle, returned from Bideford, who flung them on the window-sill of Number Five study with news that Bastable would advance but ninepence on the two; âEric; or, Little by Little,â being almost as great a drug as âSt. Winifredâs.â âAnâ I donât think much of your aunt. Weâre nearly out of cartridges, tooâArtie, dear.â
Whereupon Stalky rose up to grapple with him, but McTurk sat on Stalkyâs head, calling him a âpure-minded boyâ till peace was declared. As they were grievously in arrears with a Latin prose, as it was a blazing July afternoon, and as they ought to have been at a house cricket-match, they began to renew their acquaintance, intimate and unholy, with the volumes.
âHere we are!â said McTurk. ââCorporal punishment produced on Eric the worst effects. He burned not with remorse or regretââmake a note oâ that, Beetleââ but with shame and violent indignation. He glaredââoh, naughty Eric! Letâs get to where he goes in for drink.â
âHold on half a shake. Hereâs another sample. âThe Sixth,â he says,âis the palladium of all public schools.â But this lotââ Stalky rapped the gilded bookââcanât prevent fellows drinkinâ and stealinâ, anâ lettinâ fags out of window at night, anââanâ doinâ what they please. Golly, what weâve missedânot goinâ to St. Winifredâs!âŠâ
âIâm sorry to see any boys of my house taking so little interest in their matches.â
Mr. Prout could move very silently if he pleased, though that is no merit in a boyâs eyes. He had flung open the study-door without knockingâanother sinâand looked at them suspiciously. âVery sorry, indeed, I am to see you frowsting in your studies.â
âWeâve been out ever since dinner, sir,â said. McTurk wearily. One house-match is just like another, and their âployâ of that week happened to be rabbit-shooting with saloon-pistols.
âI canât see a ball when itâs coming, sir,â said Beetle. âIâve had my gig-lamps smashed at the Nets till I got excused. I wasnât any good even as a fag, then, sir.â
âTuck is probably your form. Tuck and brewing. Why
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