Society). "The cat looked at the King--and died of it! Hoosh! Yai!
Yaow! Maiow! Ftzz!" were some of the cries that followed.

Again Richards appeared.

"She've been"--he checked himself suddenly--"dead a long taime."

The school roared.

"Well, come on out for a walk," said Stalky in a well-chosen pause.
"It's all very disgustin', and I do hope the Lazar-house won't do it
again."

"Do what?" a King's boy cried furiously.

"Kill a poor innocent cat every time you want to get off washing. It's
awfully hard to distinguish between you as it is. I prefer the cat, I
must say. She isn't quite so whiff. What are you goin' to do,
Beetle?"

"_Je_vais_gloater_. _Je_vais_gloater_tout_le_ blessed afternoon.
_Jamais_j'ai_ _gloate'_comme_je_gloaterai_aujourd'hui_.
_Nous_bunkerons_aux_ bunkers."

And it seemed good to them so to do.


Down in the basement, where the gas flickers and the boots stand in
racks, Richards, amid his blacking-brushes, held forth to Oke of the
Common-room, Gumbly of the dining-halls, and fair Lena of the