I rather fancy they won't have it all
to themselves. _We'll_ put a spoke in their wheels."

"Look here, young Wheatfield," said Clapperton, put out by the
obtuseness of his fag, "the long and short of it is you're not to go.
You know what's happened. Our side has been snubbed and cut out of the
games by those fellows; and now they want to get us to come to their
precious meeting to help them collar the clubs."

"That's just why I and my chaps are going to turn up," said Percy.
"We'll let them know!"

"Do you hear what I say? You're not to go, you or any of them. If you
can't understand the reason, I dare say you'll understand a thrashing.
You'll get it unless you stand out like the rest of us."

"I say, what's the Latin for `wrong,' Clapperton?"

"Do you hear what I say?"

"Yes, yes--is it `malus,' or `unrectus,' or what?"

"Are you going to do what I tell you?"

"How can I say what the chaps'll do?"

"You must tell them; you're fags' captain. They must do what you tell
them."

"I'd jolly well like to catch them not," said Percy, tossing his head:
"I'd teach 'em. I say, do you think `unrectus' will do?"

"Remember, you'll get it pretty hot if you disobey in this, I promise
you."

"Perhaps `malus' is better form," suggested the junior.

Clapperton left in despair.

"What a fearful ass I was," said Percy when he had gone, "not to make
him write my impot! Just like me. Catch our lot not going to that
meeting! We aint going to skulk. Whew! there goes the quarter to! I
shall never get done this brutal thing."

"Id est malus non facere quad magister dicit. Vos voluntas laetus
audire ut Fellsgarthus liquebat Rendleshamus ad pedemballum super
Saturdaium durare," (Saturday last). "Nos obtenebanus unum goalum ad
nil quod non erat malum. Ego debeo nunc concludere. Ego sum vestrum
fideliter Perceius Granum agrum." (Percy flattered himself he knew the
correct Latin for his own name.)

He had a rush to get this work of art over to Mr Forder in time, and
was considerably mortified to observe that the master did not seem at
all gratified by the performance. Just like Forder! the more you laid
yourself out to please him, the worse he was.

"Leave it, sir. I'll speak to you to-morrow."

"That means a licking," said Percy to himself. "I can see it in his
eye. All serene. That's his way of showing his gratitude."

And he went back in a very bad temper to his own room, where his
comrades had ar