wash the floor. It was obviously his duty to do so. The form thought so
too. For a solid hour, thirty weary but enthusiastic reprobates
laboured without ceasing, and by the time the bell rang all was
prepared. The floor was one still, silent pool. Two caps and a few
notebooks floated sluggishly on the surface, relieving the picture of
any tendency to monotony. The form crept silently to their places along
the desks. As Mr Smith's footsteps were heard approaching, they began
to beat vigorously upon the desks, with the result that Mr Smith,
quickening his pace, dashed into the form-room at a hard gallop. The
immediate results were absolutely satisfactory, and if matters
subsequently (when Mr Smith, having changed his clothes, returned with
the Headmaster) did get somewhat warm for the thirty criminals, they
had the satisfying feeling that their duty had been done, and a hearty
and unanimous vote of thanks was passed to Farnie. From which it will
be seen that Master Reginald Farnie was managing to extract more or
less enjoyment out of his life at Beckford.

Another person who was enjoying life was Pringle of the School House.
The keynote of Pringle's character was superiority. At an early period
of his life--he was still unable to speak at the time--his grandmother
had died. This is probably the sole reason why he had never taught that
relative to suck eggs. Had she lived, her education in that direction
must have been taken in hand. Baffled in this, Pringle had turned his
attention to the rest of the human race. He had a rooted conviction
that he did everything a shade better than anybody else. This belief
did not make him arrogant at all, and certainly not offensive, for he
was exceedingly popular in the School. But still there were people who
thought that he might occasionally draw the line somewhere. Watson, the
ground-man, for example, thought so when Pringle primed him with advice
on the subject of preparing a wicket. And Langdale, who had been