t. Wish I could get a peep out of
this beastly timber yard. I'd like to see what they're grinning at. Hark
at 'em. They're off again."

At last Leveson stopped.

"See it," he cried. "Who could help it? Jolly good, isn't it? Like the
young bounder to a T--the same nose, the same coarse wiry thatch, the
same eyebrows running away from the forehead into the middle of next
week."

The perspiration began to ooze from Plunger. He had an uneasy feeling as
to whom they were referring.

"Young bounder!" he repeated. "Coarse, wiry thatch, eyebrows running
away from the forehead. Leveson thinks that awfully smart, I s'pose?
Still it--it--must be a bit like."

Plunger had the additional pleasure of hearing more laughter at his
expense as other scholars of the Fifth entered, and added their
criticisms to Leveson's. Plunger's ears tingled as they had never
tingled before, for never before had he heard himself so freely
criticised. In addition to the not very flattering remarks "the bounders
of the Fifth" had to pass on his features, Plunger had to listen to
terse descriptions of himself as "that ass, Plunger," "a mixed pickle,"
"a queer egg," "conceited young biped," and so on.

Plunger made remarks of his own as these pleasant criticisms reached his
ears. They were scarcely less vigorous than those descriptive of
himself, and were fairly divided between "those bounders of the Fifth"
and "the fellow who had scratched things" on the window. But
unfortunately Plunger's eloquence was wasted, as neither the "bounders
of the Fifth" nor "the fellow who scratched things on the window" had
the advantage of hearing it. His attention was soon turned from himself,
however, to the proceedings that were taking place in the shed.

There were about twenty in the Fifth. Nineteen put in an appearance.
Hasluck, as head of the Form, took up his place at the rostrum, while
most of the others sat on the boxes which had been arranged for their
convenience by Arbery and Leveson, who were known as M.C.'s--masters of
ceremonies--of the Form.

"All here?" asked Hasluck, after bringing down his mallet on the box
before him.

"All--except Moncrief," answered Leveson.

The absence of Moncrief had been noticed with some surprise by the Form,
by none more than Newall.

"Is he coming, does any one know? If so, we'll wait a little longer."

"No; he isn't coming," answered Paul. "He wanted to; but I persuaded him
to stop away."

"You persuaded him t