evening as usual. Good-night," said that amazing man.

"Good-night, and thank you, sir."

"I swear I'll pray for the Head to-night," said Beetle. "Those last
two cuts were just flicks on my collar. There's a 'Monte Cristo' in
that lower shelf. I saw it. Bags I, next time we go to Aves!"

"Dearr man!" said McTurk. "No gating. No impots. No beastly questions.
All settled. Hullo! what's King goin' in to him for--King and
Prout?"

Whatever the nature of that interview, it did not improve either
King's or Prout's ruffled plumes, for, when they came out of the
Head's 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 seems--and who so astonished as they?--that
they had held back material facts; were guilty both of
_suppressio_veri_ and _suggestio_falsi_ (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-match--their own house, too--in which Prout was taking part;