`Makin' a treaty with Foxy. Didn't you hear Stalky say: "That's what we'll do -- an' if he don't like it he can lump it"? They'll use Foxy for a cram. Can't you see, you idiot? They're goin' up for Sandhurst or the Shop in less than a year. They'll learn their drill an' then they'll drop it like a shot. D'you suppose chaps with their amount of extra-tu. are takin' up volunteerin' for fun?'
`Well, I don't know. I thought of doin' a poem about it -- rottin' 'em, you know -- "The Ballad of the Dogshooters" -- eh?'
`I don't think you can, because King 'll be down on the corps like a cartload o' bricks. He hasn't been consulted. He's sniffin' round the noticeboard now. Let's lure him.' They strolled up carelessly towards the house-master -- a most meek couple.
`How's this?' said King, with a start of feigned surprise. `Methought you would be learning to fight for your country.'
`I think the company's full, sir,' said M`Turk.
`It's a great pity,' sighed Beetle.
`Forty valiant defenders, have we, then? How noble! What devotion! I presume that it is possible that a desire to evade their normal responsibilities may be at the bottom of this zeal. Doubtless they will be accorded special privileges, like the Choir and the Natural History Society -- one must not say Bug- hunters.'
`Oh, I suppose so, sir,' said M`Turk cheerily. `The Head hasn't said anything about it yet, but he will, of course.'
`Oh, sure to.'
`It is just possible, my Beetle,' King wheeled on the last speaker, `that the house-masters -- a necessary but somewhat neglected factor in our humble scheme of existence -- may have a word to say on the matter. Life, for the young at least, is not all weapons and munitions of war. Education is incidentally one of our aims.'
`What a consistent pig he is,' cooed M`Turk, when they were out of earshot. `One always knows where to have him. Did you see how he rose to that draw about the Head and special privileges?'
`Confound him, he might have had the decency to have backed the scheme. I could do such a lovely ballad, rottin' it; and now I'll have to be a giddy enthusiast. It don't bar our pulling Stalky's leg in the study, does it?'
`Oh no; but in the Coll. we must be procadet-corps like anything. Can't you make up a giddy epigram, à la Catullus, about King objectin' to it?' Beetle was at this noble task when Stalky returned all hot from his first drill.
`Hullo, my ramrod-bunger!' began M`Turk. `Where's your dead dog? Is it Defence or Defiance?'
`Defiance,' said Stalky, and leaped on him at that word. `Look here, Turkey, you mustn't rot the corps. We've arranged it beautifully. Foxy swears he won't take us out into the open till we say we want to go.'
`Dis-gustin' exhibition of immature infants apin' the idiosyncrasies of their elders. Snff!'
`Have you drawn King, Beetle?' Stalky asked in a pause of the scuffle.
`Not exactly; but that's his genial style.'