when I turned un ovver. They're clever, oh, they'm clever, but
they'm not too clever for old Richards! 'Twas on the born tip o' my
tongue to tell, tu, but... he said us niver washed, he did. Let his
dom boys call us 'stinkers,' he did. Sarve un dom well raight, I
say!"

Richards spat on a fresh boot and fell to his work, chuckling.




THE IMPRESSIONISTS.



They had dropped into the chaplain's study for a Saturday night
smoke---all four house-masters--and the three briars and the one
cigar reeking in amity proved the Rev. John Gillett's good
generalship. Since the discovery of the cat, King had been too ready
to see affront where none was meant, and the Reverend John,
buffer-state and general confidant, had worked for a week to bring
about a good understanding. He was fat, clean-shaven, except for a
big mustache, of an imperturbable good temper, and, those who loved
him least said, a guileful Jesuit. He smiled benignantly upon his
handiwork--four sorely tried men talking without very much malice.

"Now remember," he said, when the conversation turned that way, "I
impute nothing. But every time that any one has taken direct steps
against Number Five study, the issue has been more or less
humiliating to the taker."