He banged his pandybat down on the desk and cried:

--Up, Fleming! Up, my boy!

Fleming stood up slowly.

--Hold out! cried the prefect of studies.

Fleming held out his hand. The pandybat came down on it with a loud
smacking sound: one, two, three, four, five, six.

--Other hand!

The pandybat came down again in six loud quick smacks.

--Kneel down! cried the prefect of studies.

Fleming knelt down, squeezing his hands under his armpits, his face
contorted with pain; but Stephen knew how hard his hands were because
Fleming was always rubbing rosin into them. But perhaps he was in great
pain for the noise of the pandybat was terrible. Stephen's heart was
beating and fluttering.

--At your work, all of you! shouted the prefect of studies. We want no
lazy idle loafers here, lazy idle little schemers. At your work, I tell
you. Father Dolan will be in to see you every day. Father Dolan will be
in tomorrow.

He poked one of the boys in the side with his pandybat, saying: