worrying it.

Chaos reigned.

"A rat!" shouted Robinson.

The twenty-three members of the Brigade who were not earnest instantly
dealt with the situation, each in the manner that seemed proper to him.
Some leaped onto forms, others flung books, all shouted. It was a
stirring, bustling scene.

Sammy had by this time disposed of the clockwork rat, and was now
standing, like Marius, among the ruins barking triumphantly.

The banging on Mr. Downing's desk resembled thunder. It rose above all
the other noises till in time they gave up the competition and
died away.

Mr. Downing shot out orders, threats, and penalties with the rapidity of
a Bren gun.

"Stone, sit down! Donovan, if you do not sit down you will be severely
punished. Henderson, one hundred lines for gross disorder! Windham, the
same! Go to your seat, Vincent. What are you doing, Broughton-Knight? I
will not have this disgraceful noise and disorder! The meeting is at an
end; go quietly from the room, all of you. Jackson and Wilson, remain.
_Quietly_, I said, Durand! Don't shuffle your feet in that
abominable way."

Crash!