Fiction  |  Rudyard Kipling  |  Stalky and Company  |  An Unsavoury Interlude

Stalky and Company — An Unsavoury Interlude (Part 12 of 16)

In Common-room at lunch King discoursed acridly to Prout of boys with prurient minds, who perverted their few and baleful talents to sap discipline and corrupt their equals, to deal in foul imagery and destroy reverence.

`But you didn't seem to consider this when your house called us -- ah -- stinkers. If you hadn't assured me that you never interfere with another man's house, I should almost believe that it was a few casual remarks of yours that started all this nonsense.'

Prout had endured much, for King always took his temper to meals.

`You spoke to Beetle yourself, didn't you? Something about not bathing, and being a water-funk?' the school chaplain put in. `I was scoring in the pavilion that day.'

`I may have -- jestingly. I really don't pretend to remember every remark I let fall among small boys; and full well I know the Beetle has no feelings to be hurt.'

`Maybe; but he, or they -- it comes to the same thing -- have the fiend's own knack of discovering a man's weak place. I confess I rather go out of my way to conciliate Number Five study. It may be soft, but so far, I believe, I am the only man here whom they haven't maddened by their -- well -- attentions.'

`That is all beside the point. I flatter myself I can deal with them alone as occasion arises. But if they feel themselves morally supported by those who should wield an absolute and open-handed justice, then I say that my lot is indeed a hard one. Of all things I detest, I admit that anything verging on disloyalty among ourselves is the first.'

The Common-room looked at one another out of the corners of their eyes, and Prout blushed.

`I deny it absolutely,' he said. `Er -- in fact, I own that I personally object to all three of them. It is not fair, therefore, to --'

`How long do you propose to allow it?' said King.

`But surely,' said Macrea, deserting his usual ally, `the blame, if there be any, rests with you, King. You can't hold them responsible for the -- you prefer the good old Anglo-Saxon, I believe -- stink in your house. My boys are complaining of it now.'

`What can you expect? You know what boys are. Naturally they take advantage of what to them is a heaven-sent opportunity,' said little Hartopp. `What is the trouble in your dormitories, King?'

Mr. King explained that as he had made it the one rule of his life never to interfere with another man's house, so he expected not to be too patently interfered with. They might be interested to learn -- here the chaplain heaved a weary sigh -- that he had taken all steps that, in his poor judgment, would meet the needs of the case. Nay, further, he had himself expended, with no thought of reimbursement, sums, the amount of which he would not specify, on disinfectants. This he had done because he knew by bitter -- by most bitter -- experience that the management of the College was slack, dilatory, and inefficient. He might even add almost as slack as the administration of certain houses which now thought fit to sit in judgment on his actions. With a short summary of his scholastic career, and a précis of his qualifications, including his degrees, he withdrew, slamming the door.

`Heigho!' said the chaplain. `Ours is a dwarfing life -- a belittling life, my brethren. God help all schoolmasters! They need it.'

`I don't like the boys, I own' -- Prout dug viciously with his fork into the table-cloth -- `and I don't pretend to be a strong man, as you know. But I confess I can't see any reason why I should take steps against Stalky and the others because King happens to be annoyed by -- by --'