ou 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 precis 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--"

"Falling into the pit he has digged," said little Hartopp. "Certainly
not, Prout. No one accuses you of setting one house against another
through sheer idleness."

"A belittling life--a belittling life." The chaplain rose. "I go to
correct French exercises. By dinner King will have scored off some
unlucky child of thirteen; he will repeat to us every word of his
brilliant repartees, and all will be well."

"But about those three. Are they so prurient-minded?"

"Nonsense," said little Hartopp. "If you thought for a minute, Prout,
you would see that the 'precocious flow of fetid imagery,' that King
complains of, is borrowed wholesale from King. He 'nursed the pinion
that impelled the steel.' Naturally he does not approve. Come into the
smoking-room for a minute. It isn't fair to listen to boys; but they
should be now rubbing it into King's house outside. Little things please
little minds."

The dingy den off the Common-room was never used for anything except
gowns. Its wind